Finding Storm Read online

  Of course he did. I knew from the car that he was loaded.

  “Well, from thirteen I did.”

  “Why at thirteen?” I glance at him again, enough to see him shift in his seat. He suddenly looks uncomfortable.

  “I … was, um … I was adopted when I was thirteen. My family … they have … a big house.”

  Oh. Wow.

  Well, what do I say to that?

  “At least you got your own bathroom, right?” I shrug, going for light humor, smiling at him.

  He briefly meets my eyes. They don’t look as happy as they did before. “Right.”

  After that, the mood in the car seems to lower. Nick doesn’t say anything more. Even my innate urge to want to fill the silence has nothing. So, I’m a little relieved when I pull onto the forecourt of the garage. But, weirdly, I’m also a little disappointed that my time with Nick is over.

  His hotness aside, I enjoyed bantering with him. Dude is fun to talk to.

  There’s no sign of Beck or Dad, so I press the horn to let them know we’re here. Then, I climb out of the truck. Nick follows suit.

  Beck comes sauntering out of the door that leads to the office.

  “Where’s Dad?” I ask him.

  “On the phone with a supplier. He’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Beck, this is Nick Slater.” I thumb in Nick’s direction, who’s standing just to my right.

  “Black smoke coming out of the exhaust?” Beck says to him, getting straight to the point, moving toward the back of the pickup where Nick’s car is.

  I follow them too.

  “Yeah, that’s right. She was fine. Then, she just started chugging, and black smoke started pouring out of the exhaust,” Nick tells Beck.

  Beck’s got his head under the back end of the car, inspecting the exhaust.

  “Any problems like this before?” Beck asks him.

  “Nope. I’ve only had her six months.”

  Why do men always refer to cars as her and she? I’ve grown up around cars all my life, and I still don’t get it.

  Dad says it’s because cars carry life. And women carry life.

  But not all women carry life. Some women don’t have children, so his point is moot in my opinion.

  Beck runs his index finger around the inside of the exhaust. His finger comes out black. He puts it to his nose and sniffs his finger.

  “Diesel,” Beck says.

  “What?” is Nick’s reply.

  “Diesel.” Beck wipes his finger on a rag he got out of his coverall pocket. “She’s a gas car, right?”

  There’s a pause.

  Then, Nick glances at his car and then back to Beck. “Yeah.” His word comes out slowly.

  “You filled her up just before she started acting up, right?”

  I can see the color start to drain from Nick’s face. Even I know where this is going. He put the wrong fuel in his car.

  Uh-oh.

  “Uh-huh.” Nick nods.

  “Sorry to say this, man. But you put diesel in her. I can smell it.”

  “What?” Another glance to his car. “No. I’ve filled her up a hundred times. I’ve never …” He drifts off, eyes going to his car again. “Fucking hell.” He sighs. “I’d been driving for a while. I was tired.” He drags his hands through his hair. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  “Happens to the best of us, man. Don’t sweat it,” Beck says kindly.

  “Is she fucked?” Nick asks.

  “I can’t say without looking at her. But I’d be surprised if she was. You pulled over as soon as the smoke started kicking out, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can’t promise anything. But worst-case scenario, she’ll need a new fuel system. That’s worst case. Just let me take a look at her, and I can tell you better.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “You ain’t going anywhere today,” Beck tells him. “After that, hard to say ’til I’ve looked at her.”

  Nick sighs, dragging a hand through his hair again.

  “I’ll check her over and give you an estimate.”

  Nick waves a hand. “Whatever it costs is fine. Just fix her.”

  Beck pauses and glances at me. I shrug my shoulders.

  “Well, let me price her up, and you can make your mind up from there.”

  Nick stares at Beck. “She needs fixing. I ain’t taking her anywhere else.” He glances at me before looking back to Nick. “You seem like trustworthy people. So, I’m happy with whatever you say.”

  “Uh …” Beck looks a little stunned. Customers are never that easy. Usually, they argue about the price or even try to haggle it down. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.”

  Hate to say it, but Nick’s confidence is super sexy. It’s just ramped back up the points that he lost earlier.

  Imagine if he’s that confident and take-charge in the bedroom. It’d definitely be an experience; that’s for sure.

  I start to feel a little knock-kneed.

  “Well, at least let us hook you up with a car to use in the meantime. We have a loaner here, but you can use it free of charge. Just put back in the fuel you use—but not diesel.” Beck laughs. So do I. Nick not so much.

  “It’s no Maserati, but it’ll get you where you need to be,” I say.

  Nick looks at me. “Not necessary. I ain’t going anywhere.”

  Oh.

  Are those flutters in my stomach I feel or indigestion?

  Indigestion. Definitely.

  The air suddenly feels thick. I want to look away from him, but I can’t seem to will my eyes to move.

  “How’s it looking?” Dad appears, his voice breaking the moment.

  Thank God.

  I glance at Beck, and he’s grinning at me.

  I stick my tongue out at him.

  Grinning, Beck turns his head to Dad. “Wrong fuel input.”

  Dad puts his hand out to Nick, introducing himself, “Bryan Cavalli.”

  Nick takes his hand and shakes it. “Nick Slater.”

  Dad turns to the car. “Diesel?” Dad asks Beck.

  “Yep. It didn’t run through the system too long, from what Nick said. So, the damage shouldn’t be extensive. Won’t know until I get under her and have a look. I’ve offered Nick the loaner until we have a better idea of how long it’ll take to fix her.”

  “Like I said, not necessary,” Nick says.

  I refuse to look at Nick again, so I keep my eyes fixed on my dad.

  “You local?” Dad asks. “Stevie can give you a ride to where you need to go.”

  “I’m not local,” Nick answers. “I’m from LA.”

  That brings my eyes to him. He’s not looking at me now.

  He’s from LA. What’s he doing here in Lake Havasu?

  “You here on vacation?” Dad asks, saying the next thought in my head.

  We get a lot of tourists through here. A lot of boaters from March to September. Students come here in droves for spring break.

  Spring break was when my ex’s dick decided to take a detour into another vagina.

  Not that he’s ever admitted it, but I figure it wasn’t his first detour into unknown territory.

  Just the one that I caught him doing.

  “Something like that,” Nick answers vaguely.

  “So, you got somewhere to stay then?” Dad probes, and I know where this is going. “’Cause no saying how long it’ll take to fix her.” Dad pats a hand to the rear bumper of Nick’s car. “Not until we’ve looked her over. We’ve got a couple of jobs to finish today. We’ll try to look at her tonight before we close, but if not, definitely first thing in the morning.”

  Nick’s eyes come to me again. “No problem.”

  Why does he keep looking at me?

  “And to answer your question,” Nick continues, “no, I don’t have a place to stay, so if you could point me in the direction of a hotel, I’d really appreciate it.”

  Dad beams. “Ah, great.” He
claps his hands together. “Well, Stevie is your woman if you’re looking for a bed for the night.”

  There are a few things that happen in this moment.

  I get whiplash from moving my head so quickly to look at Dad.

  Nick makes a choking sound.

  And Beck bursts out laughing.

  “Dad!” I exclaim. I rub a hand to the back of my now-sore neck.

  I can feel my chest going hot. It’s going to be all red and blotchy; I just know it. It always happens when I’m embarrassed.

  Dad looks back at me, confused. Then, dawning happens as he hears the words back in his head. His mouth drops open. His eyes dart from me to Nick and back to me, finally resting on Nick.

  It’d be comical if it wasn’t so embarrassing.

  “God! No!” he says to Nick. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded. Christ, no! Stevie runs the B&B with my mother. I meant, you can stay there. Not in Stevie’s bed!”

  I don’t think I’ve ever heard my dad speak so quickly. Or seen his face go quite so red.

  Beck’s still laughing. He’s almost doubled over from it.

  I’m dying a silent, quiet death.

  I daren’t even look at Nick.

  “Jesus, Dad,” I groan.

  Dad ignores me and just keeps on talking, “We all live there. At the B&B. Our part of the house is at the back. So, it won’t just be Stevie there. We’ll all be there.”

  I’m just waiting for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

  “He gets it, Dad.” Beck laughs, patting Dad on the back. “A bed at the B&B. Not actually Stevie’s bed.”

  “Uh …” Nick says, sounding as uncomfortable as I feel. “Sure. B&B. That sounds great.”

  Beck is still laughing as he walks toward the front of the truck. He’s such a tool.

  “I swear, that might be the funniest thing that Dad has ever said.” Beck chuckles. “I can’t wait to tell Gran.”

  “You shut your face!” I call after Beck.

  But he just laughs again.

  Asswipe.

  “Well, I’m gonna go … help Beck … unload your car off the truck.” Dad steps away. “Stevie, you’ll get Nick sorted with a room of his own, right?”

  I hold back a groan and the urge to run far from here. “Sure.”

  I force myself to turn to Nick. He’s so damn tall. I have to crane my neck to look up at him.

  There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

  “So, you run a B&B?” he says.

  “Yep.” I let the P pop. “Me and my gran.” I take a small step toward him and lower my voice. “Uh … look, Nick … don’t feel like you have to stay at the B&B, if you don’t want to.” I give his car a glance before looking back at him. “There are some nice hotels in town if you want to stay at one of those. No five stars, but decent places. The Nautical overlooks the bay, and it has a pool. I can give them a call for you. I’m sure they’ll have availability.”

  It’s only early February, so the season hasn’t begun yet. It’s still fairly quiet around here. That’s why the B&B is quiet. This is our downtime before the crowds of tourists start to come.

  And it’s not that our B&B isn’t the shiz. ’Cause it is. It’s gorgeous. I love it. But the closest we have to a swimming pool is when I turn on the sprinkler to water the little grass we have.

  Nick is clearly loaded, and rich people like nice hotels with swimming pools. Not B&Bs with a sprinkler.

  Nick’s brow furrows. He looks at his car and then back to me. The frown deepens. His arms fold over his chest. “Your B&B will do just fine. I’m actually looking forward to seeing it.”

  Oh. Right. Okay then.

  I guess my time with Nick isn’t coming to an end just yet.

  And I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that.

  Stevie thinks I’m some jacked-up rich boy who has to have expensive things.

  Little does she know, that car is my only real indulgence. An indulgence which I’ve screwed up by putting the wrong fuel in her.

  What kind of idiot puts the wrong fuel in his car? This kind of fucking idiot—that’s who.

  It bothers me that Stevie has that impression of me. Money doesn’t matter to me. Don’t get me wrong. It’s nice to have. It makes some things in life easy. But I’ve lived without it. I could live without it again.

  Why do I care so much about what she thinks?

  Because I like her.

  I can honestly say I have never met a girl like Stevie before.

  So confident in who she is. She literally gives zero fucks.

  She likes what she likes. And she likes who she is.

  If only everyone could be like that, the world would be a much better place.

  There is nothing fake about Stevie. She’s as real as it gets.

  Some women think that men want the fantasy when all we really want is reality.

  An honest-to-God real woman.

  And Stevie is reality. She’s quirky. She’s fun. She’s a breath of fresh fucking air.

  And the fact that she’s hot as fuck is an absolute bonus.

  I could not only stare at her all day, but I could spend my day talking to her too.

  I’ve never experienced that really with anyone before. And I ain’t sad that I’m going to have to hang around here while my baby gets fixed because it means I get to spend more time around Stevie. And feel this sense of freedom I’ve felt since the moment I met her, realizing that she has no clue who I am.

  When she got out of that truck and walked over to me, I braced myself for it. The recognition. The excited giggle. Asking for a selfie with me. Probably asking me to sign her tits. And then she would subsequently hit on me.

  That’s the way it always happens.

  But when Stevie looked at me, there was no recognition. She definitely liked what she was looking at. I saw the flicker of interest in her eyes before she quickly squashed it. But the interest wasn’t because I was Storm Slater.

  It was because she genuinely liked the way I looked.

  Can’t blame the girl.

  But in that moment of realization where she had no clue who I was, I felt this weight leave my shoulders.

  I felt light.

  And when she started giving me shit about the cigarette butt, I’d never had that much fun in ages.

  How fucking pathetic is that?

  A pretty girl giving me a hard time is fun.

  But she wasn’t making it easy for me.

  When you live your life around easy girls, willing to give you anything, meeting one who doesn’t is refreshing.

  I just didn’t want that to change. So, when she asked my name, I lied.

  Well, it’s not a total lie. My middle name is Nicholas.

  When I was younger, around six or seven, a kid from school made fun of my name. Said it was stupid. So, I went home and told my mom I was changing my name to Nick. I made her call me it for a month solid.

  Until I realized that kid from school was a little prick and I didn’t actually care what he thought of my name.

  The likelihood of Stevie even knowing who I am or even caring who I am seems small. The girl said herself she isn’t interested in music outside of the eighties.

  But I just didn’t want to take that chance.

  I just don’t want the way she treats me to change.

  People have a tendency to act differently around celebrities. If someone finds out that you’re famous, they treat you differently. It’s just a fact.

  It’s the disease of the modern human condition called celebrity.

  When she mentioned having a brother, I did worry he might know who I was and call me out on it, but he didn’t seem to know me either.

  Clearly, he’s not into our music.

  And that suits me just fine.

  They seem like good people. Normal people.

  And her dad is just as funny as fuck. When he said that thing about Stevie’s bed, I nearly swallowed my tongue.

  It was like he’
d read all the dirty thoughts in my mind that I’d been having about his daughter since I met her not even an hour before.

  It feels weird that I’ve only known her an hour.

  I feel like I’ve known her way longer.

  “Do you need to get anything from your car before we go to the B&B?” Stevie asks me.

  “No, I’m good.” I’ve got my cell, wallet, smokes, and sunglasses in my jacket pockets. I’m good to go.

  She gives me a curious look. “You don’t have a bag with you?”

  Why would I have a bag? I’m not a chick.

  “Nope.”

  Her head tips to the side, exposing her neck. I have the sudden urge to lick the skin there. Heat flashes in my groin.

  A smile tilts the corner of her lips. “I know you’re not keen on wearing clothes.” She gestures a hand to my chest. “But do you always travel without clothes?”

  Shit, yeah. When her dad asked if I was on vacation. I said, “Something like that,” basically giving the impression that I was. And when people go on vacation, they take clothes with them.

  I stare at her, unsure of what to say.

  I’ve said enough already. Telling her I was adopted. What the fuck was I thinking? I lied about my name, but I tell her private details about my life? Well, not that I have any privacy in my life. But if I don’t want her to know who I am, I need to stop flapping my lips.

  “It was an … unplanned trip.” That’s the best I can come up with.

  Her smile goes wider. Her eyes beaming.

  God, she’s fucking pretty.

  “They’re usually the best kinds of trips. I loves me an impromptu trip. Well, unless I’m stuck in a car, listening to shitty music. Then, it’s not so fun. So, your trip must have sucked big time. Sorry about that.”

  The smile becomes a grin, and I laugh.

  “I’ll have you know, my taste in music is fucking awesome.”

  “Sure it is, Mr. I Don’t Like Fun Music. Well, we can’t have you walking around naked, so you can borrow one of Beck’s shirts if you want until you get some clothes. Stop you from scaring the locals with your naked skin.”

  “Scaring?” I chuckle, falling into step with her as she starts to walk toward the way we came in, exiting the garage forecourt. I pull my sunglasses from my pocket and slip them on. It’s not exceptionally sunny today, but they help conceal my face a little. Help stop me from being recognized.