Page 64 of Finding Storm

Stevie might be messy bun, no makeup, tank top and jeans, and her grandmother is the complete opposite. But the similarity between the two is uncanny.

I really like Stevie’s laid-back approach to how she dresses. She doesn’t give a shit.

And she doesn’t need to.

Because she’s fuck hot without all the extras.

“You’ll be back for dinner? Both of you?” Stella asks.

“Dinner is part of the room rate,” Stevie explains to me. “So is breakfast. And Gran is one hell of a cook.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll definitely be here.”

“Good.” Stella smiles, clapping her hands together. “You both go have fun at the store, and I’ll see you later.”

I was totally going to let Nick kiss me.

Well, I think he wanted to kiss me. I mean, I’m dumb when it comes to men, but the signals he was firing off sure seemed like he wanted to.

I know this because I was firing off the same damn signals.

Hell, what am I even doing? I can’t be getting tangled up with a guy like Nick.

He’s dangerous with a capital D.

Is it ego-boosting that a guy like him might be interested in a girl like me? And when I say a girl like me, I mean, hobo-looking Stevie, who hasn’t showered since having her arm down a blocked toilet.

Of course it is. It’s a massive ego boost.

But I like my heart.

I’m quite attached to her.

It took me a long time to heal her after my ex cracked her down the middle.

That crack is healed, but once something has had a fracture, it will always be weaker.

And I know that a guy like Nick Slater wouldn’t just re-break my heart.

He’d obliterate it.

I don’t need to know a guy long to know what type of man he is.

And Nick is a good guy. A fun guy. A flirty guy.

But a keeper he isn’t.

We’ve just gotten in the car and buckled up when Nick says to me, “So, I’ve met your dad, brother, and now your grandmother. When do I get to meet your mom?”

I pull the car off the drive before I speak, “Um … probably never. She skipped out on us when I was a baby.”

“Shit.” I catch his wince. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I tell him, meaning it. “The only person who should be sorry is my mother. And, honestly, I’d rather have no mom than a shitty mom. I have my dad, Beck, and Gran. I’m lucky ’cause they’re the absolute shit. Although don’t tell Beck that. His ego is big enough as it is.”

I turn onto the street, my Bluetooth connecting to the stereo, and my music plays.

James Cagney’s voice echoes through my car speakers. The opening to Madonna’s “White Heat” is a scene from an old black-and-white movie, titled the same. I tap my fingers in time to the music. I know this song by heart. I’ve listened to it enough times. It literally gives me goose bumps. Totally underrated in my opinion.