Page 145 of Finding Storm

“Weird. But okay. Whatever makes you happy, man.”

“It’s not weird,” Belle says to JJ. She hops down off her stool and comes over to me. She wraps her arm around my waist, hugging me. I look down at her, and she smiles up at me. “I think it’s really romantic.”

“Well, just so everyone knows, I won’t be leaving home for any chick anytime—ever,” Billy announces, and I chuckle.

Leaving Jake, Tru walks over to me and takes hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I agree with Belle. I think it’s really romantic. You know, I moved halfway around the world to be with Jake, and it was the best thing I ever did.”

“Course it was. I’m fucking amazing,” Jake says.

“Dollar in the swear jar, Dad,” Belle tells him, going back to sit down.

“Jesus, why do we even still have that thing?” Jake complains. “You’re all practically grown adults, for fu—God’s sake.”

“We have it to annoy you.” JJ smirks at him.

“And if we’re grown adults, that means we don’t have to have curfew anymore,” Belle adds.

“I said, practically grown adults. Not actual grown-ups.”

“Semantics, Dad. You can’t have it both ways,” Billy tells him. “It’s one or the other.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Jake growls, rising from his stool.

“Two dollars,” Belle singsongs.

Jake shoots Belle a look before walking over to me. “You’re leaving me to deal with them on my own?” He’s smiling when he says it.

“Sorry.” I grin.

God, I fucking love these people. This house.

It’ll always be home.

But I need to go be with Stevie.

If she’ll still have me, that is.

“So …” Jake says. “You’re moving to Arizona.”

It’s just me and him now. Tru has moved to sit with the kids at the counter.

“Yeah. But like I said, I’ll be back in the studio as often as needed. I won’t slack off.”

Jake puts his hands on my shoulders. “Storm, don’t sweat it. It’ll be fine. And I get it. I do. I would have given up the whole world for Tru.”

“Gross, Dad!” Billy calls, and I chuckle.

“Your mom loves it. Right, babe?”

“Sure do,” Tru says back.

Jake focuses back on me. “Do what you need to do, and we’ll be right here, whenever you need us.”

“Thank you,” I tell him. “For everything.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.” One of his hands goes to the back of my neck, and he looks me in the eyes. “We love you, kid. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters. And I know I’m not your dad, but—”

“You are,” I cut him off. “You, Tom, and Den. You’re all my dads. But you win Tom and Den out for the top spot, just don’t tell them,” I mock-whisper.