Page 182 of Overcast

Breakfast in bed—neverthought I’d do that for someone but standing over a skillet of sizzling bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns confirm that I’m way in over my head with Stormi.

I’m deep, so far that I give up. I’m over fighting it and just accept any minute I get to spend with her.

Last night was limited talking after she confessed that she’d never hate me. And as much as I want to believe it, I’m skeptical.

Call it my paranoia or that no one has ever been able to break through my walls, but I’m waiting for the ball to drop.

“Aw, man, you shouldn’t have.” Mills’s melodic tone fills in through my inner peace and turmoil as he stands unnecessarily close to me, looking over my shoulder. “Shit looks good.”

“Get away from me,” I chide. “Don’t you have shit to do.”

He sighs. “I wish, but...you took that away from me last night.” My brows clash together as I quickly spin around to face him, ready to throw fists at him again. “Bianca, bruh, Bianca. Chill.”

“Where’s Bishop?” I digress, returning back to Stormi and mine’s breakfast.

“I was hoping you knew,” he replies. “He took off like a bat out of hell last night. Tried to ask him where the hell he was going, but he was in that tunnel vision thing he gets into. There’s no breaking into that.”

“Do you know if Em tried yet?”

“Yeah, I think so. She’s still sleeping at Reagan’s. I don’t think she slept much, worrying about him and shit.”

“He’ll be alright, probably got a booty call or something.”

“Damn, that pussy must be—”

“Morning!” Stormi’s voice sing-songs, interrupting the annoying one behind me.

I tense.

Not because she’s entered the room but because the only dude I don’t feel comfortable with being in her presence is here.

Mills is a pretty fucking boy with an education and the charm of that prince I was telling Stormi about last night.

Mind you, the dickhead does exactly what I do, but he’s graced no sin on the woman that I want, and that doesn’t work in my favor.

And then there’s that kiss I walked in on.

“What’s going on, Cinderella?” Mills offers back. “Sleep good?” A hefty smirk creates off my lips because we didn’t sleep for shit.

“Very well,” she replies. “Thanks. Where’s Emmy?”

“Still sleeping, I was going to grab her some coffee, so she didn’t bite my head off when she woke up. She’s fucking evil, I hope you never see it.”

Stormi chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mills does what he says he’s going to do, making Em’s coffee, and I hear Stormi pull out a chair from the dining room table to sit. I focus on not burning our meal when Mills makes his goodbyes and promises to be back for lunch.

Fantastic.

“Focusing over there, big guy?” I peer over my shoulder to see Stormi cross-legged, her naked thighs exposed for Mills to eye-fuck while my back was turned. Her blue hair is pulled into a messy bun, alluding to all the changes she’s made since we first met.

She’s more complacent around me. I mean, shit, she wrapped those beautiful lips around my cock and almost had me asking her to marry me.

“Wanted you to be able to eat and not scrape black shit off your food.”

She smiles. “Cereal would’ve been alright.”

“Not good enough for the likes of you. Besides—” I scoop the scrambled eggs out of one pan and lay them on an empty plate. “—it keeps me on my game with my cooking skills.”