Page 99 of Finding Storm

He’s singing along to the song, which means I get to hear him sing, which of course is a bonus.

He has such an amazing singing voice. It surprises me that he doesn’t sing in his band.

“How come you don’t sing in your band?” I echo my thoughts, turning onto the street that will lead us to London Bridge, taking us over the water to the island where the marina is and where Dad keeps his boat.

“I do. Well, I sing backup.”

“Why don’t you sing lead?” I briefly glance at him.

He’s watching me with those intense eyes of his. I catch a shrug before I look back to the road ahead.

“I guess it’s just always been that way. Raze sings. I play guitar.”

Raze. That’s the one Pen thinks is hot.

“So, Raze is the singer. You play guitar. Who else is in your band?” I ask.

He chuckles, making me ask, “What?”

“I’m just not used to someone asking me these kinds of questions. Especially not a girl.”

Another glance at him. “Because they always already know?”

“Pretty much,” he says. “But I like that you don’t know, if that makes sense.”

I smile, feeling happy at that. “It makes perfect sense.”

“Thank you,” he says in a quiet voice.

“For?” I pull up to a set of lights, allowing me to look at him properly.

His eyes meet mine.

He shrugs again. He seems shy, which is at total odds with the confident man I’ve come to know.

“For not … caring. About who I am out there.” He tips his head to the window, indicating the world outside.

I swallow. Then, of course, I make a joke. “I’ve never been thanked for not caring before.”

He chuckles, smiling at me. “Well then, I’m officially the first person to ever thank you for not caring.”

“I feel like I need a badge to commemorate it. Or maybe a certificate. Framed, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Certificate of Achievement awarded to Stevie Cavalli for being the first girl to not care that Storm Slater is a rock star.”

“Has quite the ring to it.”

“I think so.” I grin at him, earning me one of his gorgeous smiles that I feel all the way down to my toes.

The car beeps its horn behind me, making me realize the light has changed.

I put my car in drive and set off moving.

We drive over London Bridge, and I tell Storm about how it was the original bridge that spanned the River Thames in London. Built in the 1800s, it was bought by a founder of Lake Havasu in the 1960s when they built the bridge they have in London now. It was dismantled and shipped here and reconstructed over the water to link the island to the main shore in the early ’70s. He seems interested in the brief history lesson, and I’m relieved that I didn’t bore him to death.

We reach the marina, and I park the car.