Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Jesus, Storm.”
“What?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t give a fuck who knows. Hey, guys!” he called over to their table, and for a split second I was so mortified I hoped the Earth might open up and swallow me whole.
“Don’t—” I tried to say, reaching out to grip Storm’s arm.
“I kissed a guy once,” Storm shouted over toward them, “when I was drunk.”
My heart was suddenly beating twice as fast. I gripped Storm’s arm harder, and he didn’t try to stop me.
“Nice, man,” Shawn yelled back. The rest of the guys at the table were totally unfazed, nibbling at a plate of nachos and sipping their drinks. “Did he taste like Cherry Chapstick?”
Storm laughed. “No. He tasted like good whiskey, actually. I kind of liked it.”
My cock stirred. He’d liked how I tasted that night?
“I hate you,” I muttered under my breath.
“You’re the best, Storm,” Shawn said, already turning back toward his table and waving Storm off. “Don’t give Emmett too much of a hard time over there.”
Storm gave them a little salute. “No problem, boys.” He turned back to me, his mischievous smile on his face. “See? It’s fine. You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, by the way.”
I released my grip on his arm, pulling back and scrubbing a palm over my face. “I cannot handle you.”
“I think you can,” he said in a velvety voice that was too appealing right now. He was looking at me—really looking at me, and in moments like these, I was reminded that I was standing across from a true superstar.
All of his attention was focused on me. Like somewhere in the stormy blue of his eyes, I could tell that he loved making me squirm. Why was I enjoying it, too? My cock had already perked up and the last thing I needed was to add completely fucking turned on to the mix of emotions running through me.
I breathed evenly. I closed my eyes for a second and re-centered myself. The air smelled amazing. My beer was delicious. There was no reason this should be any different than any other fall evening.
Other than the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about how good his arm had felt under my hand. How good it felt to have his eyes on me now. Or, for Christ’s sake, that he’d called me adorable. Had I heard that correctly?
“Can I ask you something?” Storm said.
I pulled in a long breath. “I’m already afraid of what it’s going to be,” I said. “But yes. Lay it on me.”
His eyes danced across my face. “Why does it upset you so badly when I say that you just want money?”
“It doesn’t tick me off that badly,” I said.
“Bullshit.”
I paused for a moment, already feeling my guard go up. “Okay, it does. For personal reasons.”
“And those personal reasons are…”
“You think I’m going to tell you?” I challenged him. “They’re personal for a reason.”
He watched me close. “You don’t have to tell me,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me a damn thing. But I’m allowed to ask. Right?”
“I guess so,” I said.
I let my words hang in the air, expecting Storm to bite back with some quick comment. Instead we lapsed into silence, with only the sound of faint music in the air and the occasional laughter coming over from the Fixer Brothers’ table.
After a minute, it seemed like Storm had just accepted that I wasn't going to answer his question, and he’d respectfully not pushed it any further. I really hadn’t been planning on answering it. It was personal, and it wasn’t the kind of thing I talked about with anyone other than Landry.
I swallowed hard, watching a small bird fluttering from one pine tree to the next, noticing emotion rise up in me again.
“I was dating a guy named Sam,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “For a long time. Sam was… great, to be honest. Graduated from Princeton the same year I graduated from Harvard. He was handsome. Considerate. Husband material, you know?”
I looked over at Storm. I was surprised to find he was listening intently, watching me with those annoyingly soulful eyes. Eyes that could make anyone’s guard go down.
“And then… you two lived happily ever after?” he asked gently.
“Not exactly,” I said, shifting on my feet. “Well, I’d bought him a ring. I was ready to propose. Then my dad died. Then Sam ended up leaving me anyway, a couple of months later.”
Something twinged in my chest. I was really doing it. I was telling someone the sad little story about my ex, something I wasn’t even a little bit prepared for.
Storm furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry, Emmett. That sounds shitty beyond belief.”
“It wasn’t a good time,” I said. “The reason I don’t like you saying I only care about money is because it’s something Sam told me a few times, too. He really saw me as a millionaire first, and a person second, I think.”