Pull it together, Stevie. Don’t get upset. This was always going to happen.
He was never here forever.
He has a life in LA. His band is there.
“Yeah … Beck said he’ll fix it today. My car will be ready … tonight.”
I love my brother, but I could kick him for being so damn efficient at his job.
I can’t speak because the words won’t come without the waterworks, so I force my smile bigger and brighter.
Storm pulls off his sunglasses and pockets them. His eyes look bluer than ever. They look conflicted. “Stevie—”
“This is good news, right?” I take a step back, putting some distance between us.
He frowns.
But distance is what I need to get through this.
“Your car being fixed means you can get back to LA. Which is good. It’s great. I’m happy for you.” I’m officially smiling the widest smile I’ve ever smiled. I must look deranged. But I’m desperately trying not to burst into tears.
Which is stupid.
I’m stupid.
I’ve known this guy for a short period of time.
I knew this was temporary.
He was never mine to keep.
Storm lowers the grocery bag to the floor. Steps closer, reclaiming the space I put between us, and takes my face in his hands. I close my eyes.
I can’t have him this close, touching me like this, and not cry.
Funny because, only moments ago, I was feeling happy.
Shows you just how quickly things can change.
“Stevie … look at me.” His voice is low and commanding.
I blink my eyes open. His stare is focused and intense.
“I don’t care that my car is ready. Because I’m not ready to go yet. I want more time with you.”
Yet.
That one words says everything.
He’s not ready to go yet. But he will be at some point.
My mouth is dry. My chest aches.
I do want more time with him. But won’t it just hurt more when it does come time for him to leave?
Because, inevitably, it will happen.
He said it himself. Yet.
He will eventually leave.
He presses his forehead to mine. “Tell me you want me to stay.”
Conflicting feelings have my mind and heart at war.
He stays, and it only prolongs the inevitable. The longer I’m with him, the more I’ll feel. The more it will hurt when he goes.
But sense has never been my strong point. And knowing he wants to stay, even if just a bit longer, makes me find it harder to care about my own feelings.
I’ll deal with the pain when it’s time.
I wet my lips, exhaling a breath. “I want you to stay.”
He groans, and it sounds an awful lot like relief. Then, his lips find mine, and he kisses me right here in the street.
It’s deep and wet and intoxicating. And it feels like a claiming.
I’m clutching on to him for dear life, kissing him back equally as desperately.
He breaks off, breathing heavy. He tilts his head back, staring into my eyes, his own bright with some unnamed emotion. His hands still cradling my face. “You want me to stay?” he checks.
“Yes.”
“Then, I’m staying.” His words sound final, but we both know they’re not. Because left unsaid was for how long he’s staying … another day or a week or a month.
He kisses me again. Softly this time. Light, feathery kisses over my mouth, along my jaw. Then, he pulls me tight into his arms, holding me.
And I grip on to him, praying that my heart can take it when he does finally decide that it’s time for him to go.
It’s early evening, and Beck has brought my car from the garage to the B&B for me. She’s all shiny and beautiful and working.
I used to think she was the most beautiful thing in the world.
I was wrong.
Stevie is.
“Thanks, man,” I say as Beck gets out of my car, handing me my keys.
“No problem. She was a dream to drive. Back to new, like nothing ever happened.”
But it did happen, and I’m so fucking glad it did because it brought me here to Stevie.
“How much do I owe you?”
Beck pulls the bill from his pocket and hands it to me. “Just settle it up later with me.”
I open up the bill. Not bad. Could’ve been worse. But, honestly, I’d have paid anything to meet Stevie.
“It’s fine. I’ve got the money on me. Let me pay now.” I grab my wallet from my pocket and pull the hundred-dollar bills, adding extra to it.
Beck takes the money from me, briefly counting it. “There’s too much here,” he tells me, trying to hand back the extra bills I put in there.
“The extra is a thanks for fixing her.”
“That’s my job. And it’s not like I didn’t charge for labor.” He laughs. “Because I did.”
“Beck, it’s fine. Take it.”
He eyes me for a moment. “This isn’t because you’re …” He trails off. “With Stevie, is it? Because I ain’t buyable, man. I don’t give a shit who you are. You hurt my sister, and I’ll kick your ass, just like I did the last one who screwed her over.” He holds the extra money out for me to take.
He kicked her ex’s ass. I’m glad someone did.
Since Beck and Bryan, Stevie’s dad, found out who I really am, neither of them have treated me any differently. But then, they’re Stevie’s people, so I didn’t expect any less.
“No, man, it’s not because I’m with Stevie. It’s a thanks for fixing my car. And I’m glad you kicked her ex’s ass. And if I do anything to hurt her, I’ll fucking stand there and let you beat the shit out of me.”
He’s still watching me carefully.
“I think Stevie is fucking amazing. I don’t know where this thing between us is going.” Somewhere, I hope. “But I do know I would never do anything to purposefully hurt her.”
And I do know that. Because I think the world of her.
The man who came here isn’t the same man that I am now.
In the past, I wouldn’t have given a shit how a woman I was with was feeling. Only how she was going to make me feel when I got to fucking her.
God, I was a total prick.
In some ways, I’m just as bad as that shithead ex of hers. Except I’m no cheater.
No, because you’ve never committed to anyone to be able to cheat on them.
True. But even still, I know me … and I would never cheat. Especially not on a girl like Stevie.
I might not know where this thing between us is going.
Her life is here. Mine is in LA.
But I do know how I feel about her. And she feels an awful lot like she’s mine.
Beck sighs and pockets the money. “Fine. I’m taking you on your word. Stevie is sweet and trusting. She comes off as tough, but she’s not. Not really. She hurts. And if she hurts, I hurt whoever made her cry. So, you ever do anything, on purpose or not, and I will beat the crap out of you. And I’ll also stuff this money where the sun don’t fucking shine.”
Nodding, I say, “I accept that.”
Because if someone ever hurt Belle, purposefully or not, I’d do the exact same.
The back door bangs open. I turn to see Stevie. My face breaks out into a big smile at the sight of her, and I was just with her literally minutes ago.
I’m so screwed.
“You got your car back then.” She’s smiling back at me, but it’s missing that Stevie spark. It has been since the conversation of my car being fixed came up.
We were living in a bubble until that point.
Now, my car being back and working has put an end date on this thing between us. But I really don’t want there to be an end date. I just can’t figure out how to keep Stevie and go back to LA. And I have to go back for the guys. We made a pact in the beginning. If one of us goes, we all go.
Ther
e’s no Slater Raze without the four of us.
And I’ve been writing songs since I got here, and I haven’t written anything decent in a long time.
It’s because of Stevie. She fucking inspires me.
And this is different material. Really good music.
The boys will love it.
But for them to hear it, I have to go home, and right now, that feels hard to do.
But I know I have to leave here at some point.
I love the guys, the music. So do Levi and Cash.
But we could go on without it.
Raze couldn’t. The band is his life.
And he’s my best friend.
So, I have to return there.
I just don’t know how to do it. Go back to LA and keep Stevie. I don’t know how to get everything I want.
But right now, I have her, and I’m going to make the most of it.
I grab hold of her around the waist. Swinging her around, I plant a kiss on her lips.
Beck mutters something about, “Don’t need to see this shit,” and disappears inside the house.
“Come for a drive with me?” I say, pressing individual kisses to her mouth.
“You’re offering to drive me?” She blinks dramatically, and I chuckle.
Stevie has been driving me everywhere since my car has been out of service.
“Yep. I want to introduce you to the other woman in my life. Show you your competition.”
She laughs, pressing her hands against my chest, leaning back to stare into my eyes. “Dude, there is no competition. I’m awesome.” She shrugs, smiling.
“Yeah, you are.” I pull her back in and plant one more kiss on her lips.
Then, taking her hand, I lead her around to the passenger seat. I open the door, and she gets inside. Once she’s in, I close the door behind her and round the car to the driver’s side and climb in.
Stevie’s already got her seat belt on, ready to go.
I pull mine on and start my baby up.
She purrs to life.
It’s like fingers sliding over my skin. Feels almost as good as when Stevie touches me.
“Where are we going?” she asks as I reverse off the driveway.
“Where do you want to go?”
She shrugs. “Don’t care. As long as I’m with you.”
I smile at her. Pick her hand up and kiss it. I don’t let go. I keep her hand in mine, resting it on my thigh.
I head toward the 95, so I can take her out on the highway and open her up.
The sun is setting, giving the sky a reddish glow. My window is down. The radio is playing. The girl I’m crazy about is sitting beside me.
Life doesn’t get any better than this.
“Who sings this song?” Stevie asks about what’s currently playing on the radio.
It’s the acoustic version of “I Don’t Care.”
“Ed Sheeran.”
“Who’s he?”
I chuckle. “Singer from England. Good guy.”
“You know him?”
“Met him a couple of times.”
“And what’s this song called?”
“ ‘I Don’t Care.’ ” I glance across at her, momentarily taking my eyes off the road. Her brow has furrowed. I laugh. “That’s the name of the song, not that I don’t care.” Because I care about you. A fuck of a lot. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“Stevie …”
“Yep?”
“You like it, don’t you?”
Her lips purse, her eyes narrowing. “I never said that.”
I laugh again. “You didn’t say you didn’t either. Holy shit, Stevie … you like it. You like a song that’s not from the eighties. I don’t know whether to high-five Ed Sheeran or be offended that you like his music and not mine.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I haven’t heard your music.”
“Again. Offended or not …” I chuckle.
“I’ll listen to it if you want?”
“Let me think on that for a little while.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know if my fragile ego could take the criticism.”
“Hey! I’m not critical.”
“Nope. Just honest. And so far, you like cheesy eighties pop and Ed Sheeran. I don’t think I stand a good chance.”
“One song, dude!” She sticks her index finger up. “One! It’s just a catchy tune, is all.” She pouts, and it’s fucking adorable.
“So, you admit you like the song?” I deadpan.
She scowls at me. “You ass … you tricked me into that.”
I shrug. “I’m smart. Can’t help it.”
“You’re a butthead, and you can help that,” she mutters, making me grin. “I just like the words. That’s all. Doesn’t mean anything.”
I’m laughing now. “Course not, babe.” Then, I give her a sobering look. “But you know, on the original chart release of this song, he sings it with Justin Bieber.”
Her hand covers her mouth, her eyes going wide. “You’re shitting me?” The words come out between her fingers.
“Nope.” I grin.
“Oh God, I’m a Bieber fan. Pen will be so proud.”
“You wanna hear the Bieber version?”
She pauses. Then, she glances around like there’re people around us who might hear. “Yeah, I kinda do.” She sighs.
And I’m laughing again. Like I always do when I’m with her.
“You can’t tell anyone. If you do, I’ll put your nuts in a shredder.”
I shudder. “That sounds fucking awful.”
She gives me an evil grin. “Exactly.”
Smiling, I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss it again. “Your secret’s safe with me.” I release her hand and search through my music until I find the Sheeran and Bieber collab version. I hit play, and the music fills the car.
“I’m such a dirty cheater.” She sighs. “But, damn, this is a good song. I don’t know if I prefer this version or the first version … probably the first version,” she adds a moment later.
“You’ll probably like more of Ed’s songs. I’ll introduce you to them.”
“Hey, calm down there.” She lifts a hand in a stopping gesture. “Don’t be getting all crazy. I like this song. But I’m not sure if I’m ready to go all full-blown affair and cheat on the eighties with this Ed guy.”
This Ed guy.
God, she cracks me up.
“Stevie Cavalli, you are the best kind of nuts,” I tell her, and she smiles, seeming to like that.
I’m staring at her, grinning, my eyes flickering between the road and her because I can’t not look at her. Because she’s beautiful and sexy and fucking awesome.
And I’m hard. Yep, that’s right; my dick is hard. Because this is what she does to me. I’ve never known anyone like her before.
I get hard from hearing her laugh. From laughing with her. I’m either losing my fucking mind or this is how it is for everyone when they meet the girl.
And she is the girl.
She’s my girl.
I come off the 95, taking the turn heading for the bridge, to drive us onto the island where the marina is and where her dad’s boat is kept. There are some nice beaches on here. Not that we’ll be able to see them. The sun has set now, and night has come in. But then I’m not coming here to look at the beaches.
I want to make out with my girl in my car.
I follow the road round the island and park the car up in a space facing out over the water. There are no other cars around.
It’s just me and her.
I turn off the engine, plunging us into darkness, leaving the music playing.
I shove my seat back as far as it will go. “Come here,” I say to her, holding out a hand.
She takes my hand and climbs over into my lap, tucking her legs between mine.
I cup her chin in my hand and kiss her. Softly at first. But it quickly turns into more. Deeper. Wanting.
Because I want her all the damn tim
e.
I’ve been holding back with her even though I’ve felt her pushing for more.
I haven’t wanted to rush things with her.
But now, I’m feeling the time that I have left here with her. Like it’s slipping through my fingers.
Her hand slides into my hair, gripping. She moans into my mouth. It’s like a lightning rod to my dick.
Def Leppard’s “Hysteria” is now playing on the radio, and I’m feeling every single one of those fucking lyrics.
Because that’s how I feel about her. Hysteria when she’s near. Like I’m coming out of my skin with wanting her.
It’s amazing and scary and fucking intense.
But I want all of these feelings.
I want all of her.
My hand slides up her bare leg to her thigh, fingers inching under the hem of her denim skirt.
She shifts restlessly in my lap. Her ass pressing against my hard, aching dick.
I suck on her tongue, at the same time grazing the underside of her tit with my thumb, knowing it drives her crazy.
She squirms against me.
Then, she grabs ahold of my hand and guides it down, putting it between her legs. “Touch me,” she whispers. “Please.”
I almost come out of my seat. And my dick.
I haven’t suffered premature ejaculation since I figured out what my cock was for. But I have a feeling I’ll be coming in my pants like a preteen the second I put my hand on her.
Leaving my hand where she put it, I rub my thumb up and down against her skin. I bring my other hand around the back of her neck, cupping it. My thumb presses against her pulse.
It’s beating wildly.
I stare into her eyes.
I need to know she really wants this.
I’m so nervous with her. All my confidence is gone. I’ve got nothing.
I’m never nervous with a woman.
But with her, I am. Because she means so much to me.
I don’t want to fuck this up. And I am absolutely stellar at fucking things up.
But I can’t mess this up with her. She’s too important to me.
I could sit here and say it’s not a big deal, that it’s just fooling around in my car with a girl.
But it is a big deal. It’s Stevie.
I could say I’m not falling for her. But it’d be a lie.
Because I am.
Finding Storm Page 17