Page 21 of Breaking Storm

I find it unnerving that his lack of engagement upsets me. Never one to wish for attention, especially his possessive kind, I’m surprised his dismissal of me scrapes at my insides. Joey’s someone to be hated. Unfortunately, my dislike is minced with affection. Lukewarm at best, but it’s there.

After we get back, Sean goes home and I head downstairs for dinner. As usual, Joey is waiting with his phone in hand. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence or mention seeing me at the beach. He simply reads whatever is on his phone while Gerard brings in the food. The kissing of silverware reverberates in the room. It’s grating on my nerves, so I inhale my meal to get out of here as fast as possible.

I stand to leave and for the first time, Joey’s head comes up for air, as he says, “I’m not done.”

“Not my problem.”

When I walk past him, he takes a hold of my wrist to stop me. “It’s rude to leave when I haven’t finished my meal.”

My head drops down to meet his gaze. “It’s rude to read on your phone the entire time at dinner.”

He releases my wrist and returns to his food. I don’t know what his problem is. My behavior aggravates Joey, yet he doesn’t recognize his own faults.

For the rest of the evening, I watch television and head to bed at a reasonable hour. I walk into the room, and Joey’s already there. The only clothing he wears are his boxer briefs. While I retrieve my pajamas, I admire his body before slipping into the washroom. His abs are a stairway to a spectacular bone structure and a downward descent to a sexual weapon of destruction. He’s delicious, sitting against the headboard, one leg stretched out and the other bent to balance a book. This is how he usually goes to bed on nights I’m still up. The first time I saw him reading shocked me. It isn’t a characteristic I’d have associated with him. In the washroom, I squeeze my eyes closed to shut out the images. My hand quivers over my body until I pull it away and turn on the shower.

After loading on the lotion to quench my dry skin, I enter the bedroom, slip under the covers, and grab my book. My eyes shift sideways to see what book he’s reading, and I bite my lip when my attention drifts to his chest. Tattoos cover what appear to be scars.

Turning back to my book, I bite my lip and say, “Never figured you as a reader.”

Without facing me, he deepens his voice and says, “Yes, Joey can read.”

I let out a laugh, shake my head, and leave it at that. For an hour, I read before turning off my light. He shuffles his pages a couple more times, switches off his light, and lies on his side, facing away from me. Neither of us wish each other a goodnight. Our nighttime rituals mirror our daytime rituals.

Chapter 10

MY OLD MAN KEEPS PUTTING pressure on me. He wants Teagan and I to get to know people in our age group from the other families who work for him. James stresses the importance of it when I take over the business. I laugh to myself, hoping I’ll findher, and we will be long gone by then. To appease the asshole, Teagan and I are attending a BBQ thrown by Frankie, one of my bodyguards. A good guy and one of the few I trust. Of course, Sean will come along.

I assumed distancing myself from Teagan might help her get comfortable, but it hasn’t. A month has passed, and our relationship is stagnant. The only relationship prospering is hers and Sean’s, which has riled me. The effect is I’ve been cold toward Sean. From a distance, I watch them talk, hug, and laugh. Fucking laugh. I should be the one making her laugh. Smile.

At the beach, they looked like a happy couple. A loss of air, and a squeeze of my heart had me grabbing my shirt for breath. She’s beautiful. A flare. Everything I want in a woman. Teagan’s smile vanished as soon as she saw me. Sean snagged her right from under me. They’ve even gone to a park in our district, and the unknown of what they do there or anywhere else is a blow to my pride. A blow to my heart. He’s my best friend, and she’s my fucking wife. He’s getting all the benefits from her. I run my hands through my hair and yank at it. Sean better not be receivingallthe benefits. If he’s fucking her… I can’t even think about it.

Before arriving at Frankie’s, I sent Teagan upstairs twice because of her inappropriate outfits. I’m burning her daisy dukes and any top that shows cleavage. I have a pounding headache, and my heart beats in step. Now she’s wearing a strapless summer dress, buttoned high enough to cover her breasts, but not her cleavage. The dress falls an inch above her knee. After arguing about her appearance for the third time, I cave and let her have this win.

Sean and I flank Teagan’s sides as we walk onto Frankie’s large terrace. He has a house in the suburbs, which provides enough space for a deck and a massive backyard. A woman who looks familiar, but I can’t recall her name, whisks Teagan away. There’s an outside bar, loaded with varied alcohols and beers. I’m about to step behind it when a guy pops over, offering to get me whatever I want. I’m not surprised Frankie hired a bartender. He loves the show. Sean comes by, I hand him a beer, grab the other two, and head over to Teagan.

She folds her arms in front and shakes her head when I offer her a beer. “No, thanks.”

My arm is still extended with the beer in it. I give her a pointed stare, yet she ignores it.

The other woman hesitantly takes the beer and says, “I’ll hold it for her.”

“Thanks, uh—”

“Erin.”

“Yes, Erin. Sorry about that.”

“No problem, Joey.”

With that, I leave them alone and walk around Frankie’s property. There’s a volleyball game in play on one side of the yard.

I watch the game, drinking my beer, until Sean comes next to me and asks, “Are you going to keep ignoring me?”

I’m not in the mood for this discussion, and I sure as hell am not going to start a fight here.

Bodyguard or not, Sean doesn’t stand down and continues, “What did I do? Tell me.”

The volleyball comes flying over, knocking the beer out of my hand as someone yells an apology. I pick up the ball and bottle, toss the ball back, and walk to the bar for another beer. Sean is on my heels, and it’s pissing me off.

---