5. Storm
FIVE
STORM
S torm leaned back in one of the old leather chairs in the common room. He was pretty sure the thing had been around since the club had formed. They really needed to upgrade some of the furniture. Something that ancient couldn’t be safe for the Littles.
He absently peeled the label from his beer bottle. The third one he’d had since he got back from following Brook home. Across the room, Steele reclined on one of the couches, Ivy sound asleep in his lap.
“So,” Steele began softly, dragging out the word as though testing the waters of a conversation he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to have. His voice was calm but probing, like a fisherman casting a line and waiting to see if it would snag. “You gonna tell me why you’re making confetti out of your beer labels, or should I guess?”
Storm shot him a dry look, but the irritation didn’t last long. It crumbled under the weight of his own frustration, and he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. He set the half-empty beer bottle down with more force than intended, the glass clinking sharply against the table. Ivy stirred in Steele’s lap, prompting the club president to glare at Storm in silent reprimand.
“Sorry,” Storm muttered, his words came out low, rough with something he didn’t want to name. He hesitated for a beat, his fingers brushing over the pile of shredded beer labels like he could smooth away his turmoil. Finally, he admitted, “It’s Brook.”
Steele’s grin spread slowly, smug and knowing. “Pretty much already figured that out, genius. I’ve known you all our lives.” He leaned back, letting out a quiet half laugh. “You like her. Haven’t seen you look at someone like that since…”
His friend’s words hung in the air, heavy with history, and for once, Storm was grateful his friend let them trail off. He didn’t need her name spoken aloud, didn’t need the weight of that memory crashing into the room, sullying the atmosphere. It had no place here.
“It’s not a thing,” Storm muttered, his tone defensive, almost desperate to dismiss the thoughts tangling in his head. He dragged a hand through his dark hair, sighing. “She’s... I don’t know, man. Brook’s cute. Sweet. The kind of person who smiles at everyone, you know? A little ray of fucking sunshine.”
Steele nodded, though the smirk never left his face. “Yeah,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “the kind of sunshine that’s dangerous. Definitely don’t want anyone sweet or cute in your life, Storm. Might make you feel human for once. Can’t have that, right?” Steele winked at Storm, knowing full-well what his words were doing.
Storm glared at him, and Steele’s chuckle only deepened. The tension lingered as Storm reached for his beer again, his fingers tightening around the bottle.
“I’m serious,” Storm whispered. His friends could be such assholes sometimes. “She’s... different. Feels like she’s got this light around her or something. Watching her in Little Space was addictive. It would never work out, but fuck, I had thoughts while she was here tonight.”
“You’re getting poetic on me now. This is worse than I thought. You’re fucking sprung.”
Storm scoffed and shook his head. “See, this is why I don’t talk to you about this kind of stuff.”
“Relax, I’m kidding.” Steele beamed. “So, what’s the problem? She’s cute, you like her, she’s Little, she’s apparently glowing or something—sounds like a win to me.”
“I don’t know if I’d be... good for her,” he admitted quietly. “She’s got this positivity, this... I don’t know, lightness. And I’m—” He gestured to himself, “Whatever this is. Dark. Broken. Fucking poison.”
“You mean ‘a grumpy loner with a good heart buried somewhere under all that pissed-off charm’?” Steele offered helpfully.
“Fuck off,” Storm said dryly. “I don’t want to drag her into my crap. I have trust issues. No one wants to deal with that bullshit. I know I’m an asshole.”
“Look,” Steele said as he flexed his feet in his reclined position, his tone measured but firm. “I get it. You’re scared. Last time sucked—I know that better than anyone. But Brook’s not Emmaline.”
Storm flinched, the name hitting him like a slap, sharp and unwanted. It wasn’t just the sound of it; it was the memories that came with the name. He hated even thinking about her.
Steele continued, “You didn’t do anything wrong with Emmaline. She’s the one who decided to go fuck ten other guys around town. Did she think you wouldn’t find out? She was a terrible fucking person, Storm. Plain and simple. And yeah, I don’t know Brook all that well yet, but I can already tell she’s not like that. Not even close.”
Storm stayed silent for a long moment, his jaw so tight it was painful. Finally, he sighed, his lips curving into a faint smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re annoyingly good at this pep-talk thing, you know that? You’ve gotten all wise and shit since you took over the club and found your Little girl.”
“Perks of being your best friend,” Steele shot back, the smile returning to his face, but this time, it carried a warmth that only years of camaraderie could forge. “Now it’s your turn to become wise, dipshit. Take a chance.”
Maybe Steele had a point. Maybe the past didn’t have to dictate the future. Maybe, just maybe, Brook wasn’t a risk but an opportunity.
Storm stood outside the real estate office, hesitating. It had been two days since he’d seen Brook, and he couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to set his eyes on her. To know if she’d slept. If she’d eaten. To make sure she wasn’t skipping lunch or napping with the door unlocked again.
The faint hum of lunchtime traffic drifted through the air, mingling with the drool-worthy scent of fresh bread wafting from the bakery a few doors down. The crisp air filled his lungs as he took a steadying breath and then walked through the door.
Brook’s gaze lifted from her computer screen, her bright eyes catching the sunlight streaming through the windows. The golden rays made them sparkle. Her face lit up with a genuine smile that warmed him down to his bones.
“Hi, Storm,” she said a little unsteadily, as though surprised to see him.
“Hey, sunshine,” he replied, low and casual, though his heart thudded harder than he liked to admit. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d see if you’ve had lunch yet.”
“Not yet,” she answered, her voice soft but intrigued.
“Good,” was his firm yet surprisingly gentle response. “I came to take you to lunch. We can go to the diner.”
Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink that matched the little bow she wore in her hair. The sight made his chest tighten. Damn, she was cute. Even dressed in her business clothes, she exuded the same sweet, playful energy he’d seen when she was in Little Space. It didn’t matter what she wore; to him, she’d always be that endearing Little girl.
Brook swallowed, the movement drawing his attention to the graceful line of her neck. “You’re asking me to lunch?”
“I don’t usually ask, sunshine.”
She blinked, her wide eyes studying him before she giggled softly. “I’ve kind of noticed.” Her tone was playful. She gestured to her computer. “Give me a minute to finish this email, and then we can go.”
Storm nodded, leaning casually against the desk as he watched her type, her fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. He couldn’t stop himself from noticing the way her blush lingered. He loved it when she did that.
When they arrived at the diner, Storm slid into the booth across from her, wanting to see her face while they ate. The place was cozy—the typical 1950s style diner, with red vinyl seats and a jukebox in the corner.
He already knew what he wanted, but Brook seemed utterly engrossed in the menu, her gaze flicking across the pages. She reread it several times, her lips pressing together in concentration. Remembering her confession the other night, Storm reached across the table, tugging the menu from her hands.
“How many things are you trying to decide between?”
“Three,” she admitted softly.
“What are they?”
“The cheeseburger, the Cobb salad, and the chicken strips.”
Storm leaned back, watching her closely. He couldn’t seem to tear his attention away from her even if he tried. “What did you have for dinner last night?”
“Um, chicken nuggets,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He arched an eyebrow, his expression both incredulous and teasing. “And?”
She lifted her gaze to meet his, the corners of her lips twitching like she was trying to hold back a smile. “And… ranch?”
He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward slightly as though to emphasize his point. “Is that a question, sunshine? Because if so, I don’t have an answer for you. But if I’d been there, you damn sure would’ve had more than just chicken nuggets and ranch for dinner.”
When she gave him a weak smile and didn’t reply, he sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I’ll order you the Cobb salad.”
He noticed the subtle way her shoulders dropped, a flicker of disappointment passing over her features. He’d ignore it—for now. She’d understand soon enough.
After the waitress came by and he placed their order, the silence between them was slightly awkward. Brook fidgeted, her fingers brushing the edge of the table, while Storm stared at her, trying to decide what to say. Finally, he cleared his throat.
“I should tell you something,” he began, his voice steady though his nerves prickled.
Brook raised her eyebrows. “Okay,” she replied, drawing out the word.
He drew in a deep breath, the weight of what he had to say pressing against his chest. “I like you, Brook. A lot. Which is saying something because I don’t fucking like anyone. I only met you at the end of last week, but ever since I first saw you in the real estate office, you’ve been on my mind.”
Her mouth fell open slightly, looking surprised. How could she not know? She was stunning—those bright green eyes, that soft, pillowy smile—and she was so damn sweet it was fucking painful.
“Um, I don’t know what to say,” she finally managed shakily as her gaze dropped to her lap before rising to meet his again.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to continue. “I’m not the easiest guy to be around,” he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. “I can be… possessive. And trust doesn’t come easy for me. I’ve been burned before.”
Brook stayed quiet, her eyes studying him, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, she was calm, almost hesitant. “By a woman?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “I just… if this goes anywhere, I want you to know what you’re getting into.”
The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable, the magnitude of his confession settling between them as Brook processed his words.
Finally, she smiled, but it wasn’t the dazzling grin that lit up the room and tugged at his chest. This one was smaller, softer, and tinged with a sadness that made his stomach twist. “Thank you for being honest,” she said, a little quieter now… “And for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good guy, Storm. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but good.”
Her gaze dropped to the table for a moment before she looked back up, her eyes filled with a hesitant vulnerability. “I’m an introvert, and I spend a lot of time reading or doing quiet things to decompress after work or hanging out with people. I pretty much hid in my bed all weekend after Friday night. The party was so much fun, but it takes me time to regroup after being social.”
Storm’s brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t understand where she was going with this. Did she think he’d care? Introvert or not, it didn’t matter to him. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as he waited for her to continue.
“What I’m trying to say,” she added, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her napkin, “is that I’m not great at relationships. I can’t hold a conversation for hours, I don’t like going out much, and honestly, watching movies or reading in bed is my idea of the perfect night.”
Ah. Now he got it.
“Sunshine,” he said, his voice steady and laced with dry amusement, “do I look fucking social to you?” He gestured to himself as though to drive the point home. “The only reason I stuck around for the whole party was because Steele guilt-tripped me about the house situation—and because you were there. Normally, I’d be in my apartment, hiding all night so I didn’t have to deal with a bunch of people.”
Brook blinked, her lips twitching as though she was fighting a smile. “Carlee was right. You do curse a lot.”
That threw him off for a second, but then he chuckled gruffly. “Yeah, sunshine. I do.”
Their conversation was interrupted as the waitress arrived, setting their plates on the table. Storm asked for an extra plate, and when it arrived, he immediately set to work. With deliberate movements, he cut his burger in half, added a generous handful of fries to the plate, and slid it across the table to her.
Brook tilted her head, her brows knitting together in confusion. “What’s this for?”
“Give me some of your salad,” he said. “We’ll share. That way, you get to try two of the things you wanted, and I’ll get my vegetables for the day.”
She stared at him, her expression softening as a smile slowly playing across her face. “You’re sharing your burger with me?”
He shrugged and took a massive bite of his half, chewing for a moment before swallowing. “Yeah, sunshine. And for the record, I don’t share my food with just anyone.”
Her grin widened, and for the first time since they sat down, he felt like he’d done something right.
Even though he could have downed three scoops of mint chocolate chip, by the time they left the diner, Brook turned down going for ice cream because of how full she was. It was cute the way she rubbed her tummy and groaned. Especially since she’d only had three bites of the burger, five fries, and a few bites of salad. Storm had polished off everything she hadn’t.
“You’re sure you don’t want dessert?” he asked as they walked back toward the real estate office.
Giggling, she looked up at him. “I don’t know where you put all that food.”
“Between my hours in the shop and working out in the gym, I’m sure I burn most of it off. I’ve always eaten like that, though. My mom used to tell me I was going to eat them out of a home when I was a teenager.”
Brook laughed, the sound floating through the air like a melody. His cock twitched, but he forced himself to ignore it, hoping it wouldn’t embarrass him in the middle of Main Street.
When they stopped in front of her office, she turned to him, hesitated for a heartbeat, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug.
Storm froze for a second, his brain short-circuiting, but then his arms came up almost instinctively, holding her close. She smelled like soft powder and something sweet, and momentarily, everything felt startlingly perfect.
When she pulled back, she gave him that soft smile again. “Thanks for lunch.”
He nodded, his throat suddenly dry. “Yeah. Anytime, sunshine.”
As she slipped back inside, Storm stood there for a moment, staring after her. Something shifted inside him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. And it scared the hell out of him.