Page 47 of Finding Storm

“Why do I feel like my entire existence depends on this answer?”

“It does.” Well, your hotness points anyway. Not that I’m sharing that fact with him.

I smirk, earning me a chuckle from him.

“Well … I don’t hate her music, if that helps.”

I look at him, and he’s smiling. Showing me a hint of those white teeth again.

“But if we’re going back to the eighties, I’m more of a Metallica, Iron Maiden kind of guy.”

I look at his leather jacket and tattoos. Makes sense.

“Fair enough. I can accept that. They had some good songs.”

He splutters out a choked sound. “I’m sorry, what? I think you’re mistaken. Pretty sure you meant, they had a shit-ton of great songs. Or do I need to start naming them?”

I laugh despite myself. “Calm down, heavy metal boy. I like Guns N’ Roses, if that helps.”

A grunt. “I suppose.” A pause then. “So, you really like the eighties cheese music then?”

“If by cheese, you mean, musical awesomeness, then yes.”

There’s another pause, but this one feels tangible. I can almost feel it in the air. I’m just not sure why.

“And what about recent music?” His voice sounds quieter than just before, and there’s a difference to his tone.

“What about it?”

“Do you like it?”

When I glance at him, he’s looking straight ahead, out of the window.

I shrug and answer, “I’m not really into modern music. Weird, I know, because I probably should be. But my dad loves the eighties, and I grew up listening to it. I only listen to the newer stuff when I’m in my best friend, Penny’s, car because she has law over the stereo.”

“What kind of music is your friend into?”

I slide him a look. “Uh … mostly Bieber.”

He laughs. There’s almost a hint of relief in it, which is strange.

“Dude, she’s obsessed. It’s his abs. They’ve got her mind all befuddled.”

Like yours have mine.

“He does have good abs, to be fair.” He shrugs.

Not as good as yours. “Yep,” I agree with a nod. “So, I know you like heavy metal music from the eighties. What about movies?”

He thinks about this a moment. “Terminator is my favorite film.”

“What? No way! Come on! Terminator 2 was far superior!”

“Didn’t that come out in the nineties?”

Huh. “Possibly. Maybe. Okay. Early nineties,” I admit, and he laughs. “But it was way better. The only movie where the sequel trumped the first movie.”

“Disagree. The first movie was better. I can’t believe you’re cheating on the eighties with the nineties.”