Page 11 of Home Game

“Want to keep an eye on your dog for once?” I asked Storm, noticing an edge in my tone that was never usually there.

You can get along with anyone. Just grit your teeth and be nice to the guy.

He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Maybe if I wasn’t too busy in here wondering why a complete stranger was such a dickhead to me during that whole house tour.”

I set my jaw.

“Because the Fixer Brothers are a career-making partnership for me,” I said, “and because I’ve been working toward a deal as big as the Racks one for months.”

“So you’re an asshole to me because of some precious business brand deal?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I know you wouldn’t give a shit about that, and you’d probably get off on publicly slamming their stores, but it matters to me.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe Iwilltell them off publicly. Heard the CEO donates to some terrible causes, to be honest.”

He leaned forward in his front doorway, putting one hand up against the doorframe. I wasn’t sure if he was aware of how impressive his body looked in that position, or if he was just trying to intimidate me, but I couldn’t help noticing his raw strength, even while I wanted to wring his neck.

I clenched my jaw. “This isn’t all about you.”

“Why do you care?” he pressed. “You’re clearly already filthy rich, and probably have been your whole life. Why do you give a fuck about this stupid brand deal?”

Because since Dad died, Lux Marketing is run by people who really are assholes, I thought.

Because this is my only chance at someday retaking the company that my father built.

But there was no chance I was going to go into a truth that deep with someone like Storm.

I barely talked about my feelings to anyone, let alone someone like him.

Someone who only cared about parties or getting in fights.

My father’s sudden death had been the hardest moment of my life, and it came right before my ex left me without warning, two years ago. How was I supposed to talk to Storm about how it felt walking into my father’s office to find him collapsed onto the floor? That a man who had seemed like he should be immortal was instead dead—just like that—on a random Thursday morning at only 58 years old?

“My dad was a rare combination of being a truly kind person, and a great businessman,” I said evenly, opting for a version of the truth that wouldn’t hurt so much to talk about. “If I make partner at the firm, then after a couple of other guys retire, the company can be mine again. I know you look at me and just see a silver-spoon rich guy. And I know Iamthat. But there’s a lot more you don’t know about, Storm.”

He scanned my face. “And there’s a lot you don’t know about me, too.”

I sighed. “Then can we just compromise?”

Storm shook his head. His eyes were as unwavering as a thundercloud. “No compromises,” he said. “I’m working with the Fixer Brothers. And I’m not going to mince my words or not speak my mind publicly. Ever, for anyone. It just isn’t who I am.”

Anger ripped through me, sudden and unbidden.

I took a step forward, getting in his face in a way that I’d never done with anyone before.

Suddenly we were close. He didn’t back up. He barely blinked.

I’d only ever been this close to other guys when I was about to kiss them, not when I was blindingly angry. From this distance it was hard to tell the difference, and in an instant, all rational thoughts flew out of my head like a flock of spooked pigeons.

I saw his eyes up close for the first time. The dark lashes that surrounded the stormy blue. He was looking at me like I wasjust one challenge in a long line of challenges, not a moment’s hesitation in his gaze.

My cock perked up under my pants.Embarrassing. Goddamn traitorous dick. My brain hated just about everything about Storm, but my cock still found a way to betray me.

“You’re impossible,” I said softly, breaking eye contact with him and walking away. “Wait. Oreo? Where did she go?”

I looked all around and Storm did, too, stepping out onto the stone path and making his way over toward the driveway.

“Oreo,” he called out. “You never go more than ten steps away. Where are you, little ragamuffin?”

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