Page 54 of Finding Storm

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.