Page 144 of Finding Storm

I wander into the kitchen. Jake, JJ, Billy, and Belle are all seated around the breakfast bar. Tru’s at the counter, making coffee. She’s the first to spot me.

“Hey.” She smiles. “What are you doing here so early? Thought you rock stars slept late. You want some breakfast?”

“Hey, don’t be rock-star-ist,” Jake says. Picking up his cell phone from the counter, he starts tapping on it.

“What the heck is rock-star-ist?” Belle’s face screws up.

Jake finishes tapping on his phone and puts it back down on the counter. “Ist,” he highlights the word, if it even is one. “Like racist, ageist. Your mom was characterizing a person on the grounds of being a rock star. Like all rock stars sleep late. And drink. And smoke.”

JJ’s brow goes up. “You do all of those things.”

“I don’t smoke.” Jake’s voice goes higher at the end.

“Uh-huh, sure you don’t, Dad.” That’s Billy in that awesome sardonic voice of his.

“I don’t,” Jake exclaims. “Tru, tell our kids that I don’t smoke. I used to, but I stopped when your mom was pregnant with you, JJ.”

Tru laughs. Coming over with a cup of coffee, she puts it down in front of Jake and kisses him on his cheek. “No, babe, course you don’t smoke.”

Jake turns to Tru, captures her chin in his hand, and briefly kisses her on the lips.

“Ugh, gross,” Belle complains. “Can we stop the PDA? Please. And, Dad, we know you hide your cigarette butts in the planter. FYI, you’re a terrible hider. But it’s okay. We know you only smoke when you’re stressed with work. So, we let it go.”

God, Stevie would have a hernia if she knew where Jake was disposing of his cigarette butts.

Not that I didn’t already know where he hid them. He’s been doing it since I came to live here. It’s a running joke among all of us. Jake thinks that no one knows that he still smokes occasionally.

Jake glances around all our faces, brows drawn together. “You all know?”

Tru slides her arm over his shoulders and laughs. “Course we know.”

“Huh,” he says. “So, that means I can smoke freely then?”

“No!” is the resounding answer, and I start to laugh.

I fucking love these people.

It’s going to be weird, not seeing them nearly every day.

“So, was it a yes to that breakfast?” Tru asks me, still standing next to Jake.

I shake my head. “No. I’m good.” I swallow down.

I feel so goddamn nervous, telling them that I’m leaving. I’m not sure why because they’ve always been nothing but supportive to me.

“Everything okay?” Tru asks, still smiling at me.

I nod and swallow. “Yeah … I just … I came to tell you that I’m leaving,” I blurt out.

No one says anything. And they don’t seem surprised either. Which is surprising.

“Well, I met this girl when I was away in Arizona. She’s called Stevie. And … well, she’s awesome and I’m crazy about her and I want to be with her … so I’m moving to Arizona to be with her. I’m going today. Well, now in fact.”

My eyes go to Jake’s, who’s just looking at me steadily. “I’m not quitting the band,” I tell him. “I spoke to the boys and Zane last night. I’m going to keep writing the songs from there and then fly back to record them. It’s literally an hour’s flight from there to LA, so I can be here at the drop of a hat. I’ll be back as often as I’m needed. I won’t slack. But I want to be with her. And she’s there. She can’t move here. So … I’m going there to be with her.”

There’s absolute quiet in the kitchen, and then JJ says, “So, you met a girl, and now, you’re moving to Arizona?”

I look at him. “In a nutshell, yeah,” I tell him.