Finding Storm

by Samantha Towle

“Christ almighty, Stevie,” Pen sighs.

  “Raze is the singer in Storm’s band,” Gran tells me while getting the now-freshly-made waffles out of the maker.

  How does Gran even know all of this stuff?

  “See, even Gran knows!” Pen exclaims. “Babe, I love ya. But you really need to spend more time out of the eighties.”

  I lean my hip against the counter. “And why would I do that when all the best music came from that decade?”

  “I wouldn’t say that to your boyfriend in there.”

  “Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend.” And I’m five years old and back in the school playground.

  Pen laughs. “You’re totally crushing on him. I could tell yesterday.”

  “Whatever. He’s good-looking. And since I last checked, it’s not a crime to crush on a good-looking guy.”

  “No, it’s not. And it’s definitely about time.”

  I give Pen a look. “I said I was crushing. Not that I was going to do anything about it.”

  “I told her she should,” Gran imparts while getting the strawberries from the refrigerator to top Nick’s—Storm’s, damn it!—waffle.

  I roll my eyes. “Thanks for both of your input, but I can handle my love life”—or lack of it—“myself. And as for Nick—Storm, or whatever the hell he’s called, we keep silent. We do not let on that we know his real name. He wants us to call him Nick, so that’s the name we’ll call him.”

  “What if he wants you to call him Daddy?” Pen says, and I nearly choke.

  “Jesus, Pen!” I splutter.

  “Just saying, I’d call him Daddy if he asked me to.” She shrugs, grinning.

  “Me too,” Grans says.

  And I actually die on the spot.

  Fucking. Die.

  Pen bursts out laughing. Same goes for me.

  Screw keeping our voices down. I can’t hold anything in after hearing that.

  “Christ almighty, Gran!” I gasp, holding my stomach with my hand.

  “Just saying.” Gran grins before chopping the strawberries, setting me and Pen off again.

  When my laughter calms, I try again. “Okay, so we agree to say nothing. We do not call him Storm—or Daddy.” I snort. “We call him Nick. The guy has had a rough time. His private business is all over the news. He clearly wants privacy. So, privacy is what we’ll give him.”

  “So, basically, what you’re saying is that I can’t tell one single person that Storm Slater is here in town and staying at the B&B?” Pen looks less than impressed.

  “In a nutshell.” I nod.

  “You’re killin’ me, Smalls. This is the news of the century.”

  “I know. But think about it. If people find out that he’s here, journalists will turn up, he’ll get harassed, and he’ll have to leave. He leaves, and you won’t be able to fangirl over him.”

  “Well, it’s not like I can fangirl over him because I’m not allowed to let on that I know who he really is.” She folds her arms over her chest, lips pouting.

  And that’s when I know I have her. She’ll keep quiet.

  And me asking this of her has absolutely nothing to do with me not wanting him to leave.

  Nope.

  Okay, maybe a little.

  But, mostly, it’s for his benefit.

  “Thanks, Pen. I appreciate it.”

  She shoots me an unhappy look. “Fine. But I’m only keeping quiet ’cause I love you.”

  “I know. Love you too.” I turn to Gran, who’s just finished placing the strawberries on the waffles. “Gran, I can count on you not to say anything, right?”

  “Of course.” She smiles, picking up Storm’s plate.

  For a woman who loves her gossip, she’s a damn good secret-keeper when necessary.

  “You want to take this through?” she asks me.

  “Sure.” I take the plate from her and pick up his coffee.

  Moving through the kitchen, I fix Pen with a stare. “Stay,” I tell her.

  I push the door open with my hip, and there he is, still sitting at the table, reading the Sports section Dad left there earlier.

  Nick. But not Nick.

  “Hey. Sorry it took a while.”

  He glances up at me and smiles.

  That smile hits me square in the chest.

  Honestly, he could be called Lucifer, and I wouldn’t care.

  I like him.

  Just him.

  “No problem,” he says, folding the paper up and moving it aside.

  I’ve just put the plate down when the door opens, and I know just who’s walking in through it.

  Fucking hell, Pen!

  “Hey, Nick!” She comes striding over. “Thought I’d come and say hello.”

  I’m glaring at her. She is, of course, blatantly ignoring me.

  I’m going to kill her.

  “Sure. Hey. Penny, right?” he says to her.

  She giggles.

  Actually giggles.

  I’ve never heard that girl giggle in her life.

  “Yep. That’s me. Penny. Stevie’s best friend. And you’re Nick.”

  He nods slowly, staring at her. “Didn’t we already cover that yesterday?”

  “Duh. Of course we did. Silly me.” She flicks her hair and giggles again.

  Christ almighty.

  He’s still staring at her. His brows pinched together.

  Then, his eyes dart to me.

  I freeze in his gaze.

  He holds it there. Then, I watch as his eyes dim before moving down to his plate.

  My heart sinks. He knows we know.

  He picks his coffee up and takes a large drink.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” he says quietly, dismissing me.

  Fucking hell, Penny! I’m literally going to murder her.

  “No worries,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice. Then, I flash Pen a look that means retribution.

  She just shrugs and mouths, What?

  “Enjoy your breakfast,” I tell him. “Say bye, Penny.”

  “Bye, Penny,” she says, her voice way too high to be normal.

  I grab her arm and pull her back into the kitchen.

  “Fucking hell, Pen,” I hiss. “I told you to stay put.”

  “I’m sorry.” She pouts. “I just wanted to see the rock star.”

  “You saw him yesterday!”

  “But I didn’t know who he was then,” she whines.

  I let out a hint of frustration. My eyes swing Gran’s way. “You couldn’t have stopped her?”

  Gran’s hands go up in surrender. “She snuck past me when I was in the pantry.”

  I pin Pen with a stare. “You’re officially banned from the B&B.”

  “What?” Pen yelps. “No fair!”

  “Until Nick,” I emphasize the name, “has left or you can learn to behave yourself, you’re not allowed to come here.”

  She pouts again, arms folding. “You’re being mean.”

  “I’m being a good B&B manager and protecting my guest from a crazy fangirl.”

  “Hey!” she exclaims. “I’m not a fangirl.”

  “No?” I do a girlie giggle, imitating her a moment ago, and flick my ponytail. “Hi, Nick. I’m Penny. Total fangirl,” I say in a high-pitched voice. I add another hair flick for good measure.

  She’s glaring at me, less than impressed. But I’m not feeling so impressed with her myself right now.

  He’s probably sitting in there, feeling shitty because he knows we know who he really is.

  I just need to tell him it doesn’t matter to me who he is, and I’ll keep his identity a secret for however long he wants me to. And so will Penny, if I have to gag and bind her and lock her in the garage.

  We’re in a staredown at the moment. I know I’ll win because Pen is shit at the staring game. She always cracks first. Me, I could go on until the end of time.

  “Fine!” She blinks. “I was totally obvious. I didn’t mean to be. But he’s so famous, Stevie. And you know I’ve never met anyone f
amous before. He’s this famous rock star with abs that go on for days! And you know abs make me stupid. I mean, come on, have you seen his abs?”

  “Actually, yes.” I fold my arms over my chest, eyes narrowing. “When did you see them?”

  “Calm down, tiger.” She rolls her eyes. “I saw a pic of him shirtless online. He was photographed on the beach last year.” She mimics me, crossing her arms over her chest, and fixes me with a look. “But more importantly, when did you see them?” I open my mouth to speak, and she cuts me off, “And do not say online ’cause I’ll know you’re lying.”

  “Fine,” I huff, dropping my arms. “I saw them yesterday. When I went to tow him. He didn’t have a shirt on because he’d spilled coffee on it. He was just wearing his leather jacket.”

  “I saw them too.” Gran waves her hand again from her spot by the coffee machine that she’s now cleaning down. “He took his shirt off in the gas station when I was there. That’s where he spilled the coffee on himself.”

  “Sweet Jesus.” Pen fans herself. “You’re telling me that he had on just a leather jacket? And those abs?”

  “Yep,” I answer.

  “How did you not maul him on sight?”

  “Because I’m not an animal.”

  “Dude, we’re all animals. If those abs were put in front of me, I would have climbed that eight-step ladder all the way to sex god heaven.”

  I laugh despite myself. “You’re a perv.”

  She grins and shrugs. “I just really like abs.”

  “Don’t we all?” Gran says on a sigh, making Pen and me chuckle.

  “You should totally go for it with him,” Pen says to me. “He likes you. I could see from the way he was looking at you when you brought him to my work yesterday. Jeez, an A-list rock star wants to bone my bestie.” She fans herself again.

  “He does not want to bone me.” I roll my eyes.

  Totally not feeling giddy at that thought.

  But also, I’m crushing on a man who doesn’t want me to know who he really is.

  That’s not messed up at all.

  “Pen’s right,” Gran says. “He does. I told you this last night.”

  My eyes flick to Gran. “You did not say he wants to bone me. You said I should go up to his room and take the whipped cream with me. Although I don’t know which is worse to hear.”

  “Whipped cream? Go, Gran!” Pen claps her hands together.

  “Don’t you need to get to work?” I say to her.

  Her eyes go to the clock on the wall, and she sighs. “Ugh. Suppose I’d better go. Don’t want Gary getting his panties in a twist if I’m late.”

  I follow her to the back door. Pen collecting her bag and cell on the way.

  “Later, Gran,” she calls, opening the back door and stepping outside onto the driveway.

  “Bye, Penny,” Gran calls to her.

  I hold the door open, leaning against it.

  “Seriously though, babe, you should go for it with him,” Pen says to me. “Opportunities like this don’t come along … ever for girls like us. The chance to bang a rock star. Dude, do it, or you’ll regret it.”

  “I don’t care that he’s a rock star.”

  “I do.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” I deadpan, and she chuckles.

  “Okay, rock star aside, you like the guy. He likes you. He’s hot as hell. And you deserve hot after prick-face Josh.”

  I bristle at hearing my ex’s name.

  Fucking Josh.

  I’m over him. But that doesn’t mean I like hearing his name—ever.

  “If I were you,” Pen continues, “I’d ride that rock star for days. Or let him ride you. Either way, you deserve a good riding.”

  That makes me laugh. “Go to work,” I tell her.

  “Promise me you’ll ride the rock star,” she whisper-shouts, walking to her car. “Do it for the both of us! It’s the only chance we’ll ever get!”

  I shake my head, laughing.

  “Say you’ll do it!”

  “Bye, Pen.” I wave, giving her nothing.

  She slaps a hand to her chest before getting in her car. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls!”

  I roll my eyes, holding back a smile.

  “Love you!” she calls before shutting her car door. “And bang the rock star!”

  I close the back door to the sound of her engine starting and car reversing off the drive, still chuckling to myself.

  “So, you think Pen gave the game away?” Gran asks as I walk back into the kitchen.

  I glance at the door to the dining room and sigh. “Yeah, I think she did.”

  “That girl.” Gran shakes her head, smiling. “She always was overexcitable. Means no harm though.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” I agree.

  I wouldn’t be friends with her if she did.

  “What do I do now?” I ask Gran. “Do I go in there and play it cool, wait and see if he says anything to me? Or do I just tell him I know who he is and get it over and done with?”

  Gran shrugs, wiping her hands on a towel. “I’d just go in there and play it by ear.”

  “Play it by ear. Right. Got it.”

  I walk over to the door and pause.

  I wipe my hands on my thighs, smooth my ponytail back, take a deep breath, push open the door, and walk into the dining room.

  The now-empty dining room.

  “Hey.” Stevie’s sweet, soft voice comes from my left.

  I turn my head to look at her. “Hey.” I smile, but it’s weak as fuck.

  A mix of feelings hits me in this moment. Disappointment because she knows who I am even though I knew this was coming. I guess I just didn’t want it to come so soon. I wanted a little more time. Happiness at seeing her because I’m always happy when I see Stevie. And anxiety at what’s to come.

  I don’t think things will change. I don’t think she will change or treat me any differently.

  But then what the fuck do I know?

  I didn’t know everyone had been lying to me for years.

  So, how would I know how this girl, who I’ve known for a day, is going to react toward me now? Now that she knows who I am.

  And there’s no doubt in my mind she knows.

  It was written as clear as day all over her friend’s face back in the dining room.

  And the discomfort I saw in Stevie’s eyes as she stood beside her just confirmed it for me.

  I move my eyes from her and stare across the street. I take a drag of my cigarette and let the smoke out through my nose.

  Stevie comes and sits next to me on the wall outside the B&B where I parked my ass ten minutes ago. I’m also on cigarette number two. But let’s not share that with her.

  She’s so damn short.

  Whereas I’ve got my ass resting on the wall, legs stretched out, feet resting on the pavement, Stevie had to hop up on it, leaving her legs dangling, not touching the floor.

  God, she’s so fucking cute.

  Please don’t let this go to shit.

  Please don’t change.

  Treat me the same as before.

  She’s silent next to me. Which isn’t like her at all.

  I mean, it’s a good thing she’s not freaking out on me, going all fangirl. But her silence is equally unnerving.

  I take another drag of my cigarette. I let my words out with the smoke, “Must be bad. You’re not giving me shit about smoking.”

  She laughs softly. “Oh, I’m totally gonna give you shit. I just wanted to make sure you were okay first.”

  “And why wouldn’t I be okay?” I turn my eyes to her, waiting to see what she says next. A lot depends on this.

  “Well, you make shit music, so …” She grins, and my fucking heart soars.

  Laughter bursts from me.

  Relief. Elation. What-the-fuck-ever it is, it’s because of her.

  This fucking girl.

  She’s amazing.

  She’s everything.

  I tap the ash from my ci
g to the pavement. “So … you’ve heard my music?”

  “Christ, no. I’m guessing no tambourines, triangles, or electric synthesizers were harmed in the making?”

  I chuckle. “Fuck no. Just plain old guitar, bass, and drums.”

  “Ah, well, bummer for you.” She grins and bumps her shoulder against mine.

  I feel that quick touch of her body against mine, like she just put her hand on my dick. Heat suffuses in my groin.

  I tilt my head her way, looking at her. “So, you’re not mad that I lied … about my name?”

  Her brows draw together, confusion lying between them. “Why would I be mad?”

  I shrug. Another drag of my cigarette.

  “If it makes you feel any better,” she says, “I had no clue who you were when Pen told me. Still kinda don’t. My sixty-six-year-old grandmother knows who you are. Me, not so much. Not sure what that says about me though.”

  “It means, you’re fucking awesome.”

  “Ah, well, tell me something I don’t already know.”

  She grins at me, and all of my remaining tension melts away.

  How does she do that? Make me feel so at ease in my own skin.

  Untangle the complicated and make it seem not so messy anymore.

  “I’ve gotta say though, Storm is a pretty fucking cool name. I mean, it’s no Stevie, but no one can achieve that level of awesome.”

  “Thanks. I think.” I’m smiling an honest-to-God smile. And I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever smiled this way with her. Because of her.

  There’s a beat of silence between us. I feel a shift in the air around us. It makes me tense because I don’t know what’s brought it on.

  “Storm?”

  “Yep?” It feels weird, hearing her say my name. But I also like it a fuck of a lot.

  Another pull on my smoke, and I brace myself for what she’s about to say.

  “I need to be honest with you about something.”

  And here we fucking go. “Hit me with it.”

  “I feel like a total dick for this, but … I read about you online. I know it’s tacky as fuck. I feel bad for it.”

  I let out a laugh of relief. That’s what’s bothering her.

  Christ. And there was me, thinking it was gonna be something bad.

  She just keeps on surprising me.

  “Stevie, it’s fine. I’m used to it.”

  “You shouldn’t be.” She frowns. “And I shouldn’t have read it. I should’ve just spoken to you as soon as Pen told me about you. Well, to be fair, Pen had to give me your Wiki page to read because I just wasn’t getting it at first.”