Page 42 of Breaking Storm

“Same.” She lowers her voice as if what she’s about to ask is so horrible, it needs to be stifled. “I heard about Joey. How’s he doing?”

“Aside from the injuries, he’s ornery as ever.” We laugh. “He’s healing.”

“Who’s taking care of him?”

My head finds the back of the couch and I close my eyes. “I am.” She takes in a quick inhale. “We had a nurse, but his sunny personality chased her away.”

Erin’s quiet, and then she laughs, which increases every second. “Who would have thought? Nurse Teagan taking care of Joey.”

Even though she can’t see me, I stick out my tongue and giggle at her response. “Shut up.”

Her laughter recedes and, in a serious tone, she adds, “I’m surprised... and impressed. What made you stick around? This would have been the perfect time to jump ship.”

“Oh, Erin. Where to begin? So much has happened between Joey and I since we’ve talked. I haven’t told you everything because I was and still am processing it all. The short story is, after several hard trips, we’re getting along.” A small smile creeps onto my face when I pictured what he’s done to my body. Then an image of his injuries comes to mind. “When I saw how beaten he was… what James and his psychos did to Joey, I just couldn’t leave him. It was… horrible.”

I can hear the smile in her voice when she responds, “I’m glad, Teagan. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Same. You’re the greatest friend, Erin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

We make small talk, and she gives me the gossip regarding the women vipers of the underworld. She can make me laugh at the drop of a hat. Erin is an incredible person. If she doesn’t get out of the crime world, I pray she at least marries someone who will appreciate her for everything she has to offer. But it’s a tough prayer to fill.

ANOTHER WEEK HAS PASSED, AND Joey’s on the mend. Three weeks and most of the bruises are gone. During this time, we’ve been talking about standard things you’d discuss on a first date, such as favorite foods. We’re both suckers for Mexican food. Where we want to travel. Italy being a favorite for us. And books. Joey is well read, reading anything he could get his hands on. His favorite genre is science fiction.

I curl my lip. “Science fiction! I can’t wrap my head around aliens and spaceships.”

When Joey loosens up, his laugh curls my toes. “Not all science fiction is about aliens. There’s a lot more to it.”

My nose scrunches when I respond, “Well, you can keep your science fiction.”

The conversation tapers off, and we sit in quiet until he asks, “Why haven’t you gone to classes? We made a deal.”

I sit back in the chair by the balcony, looking outside, and say, “Because you were hurt.” My head turns to him. “There was no way I would leave you after what happened.”

He presses his lips together, his hands twisting the sheet, and I can tell he wants to ask something else. Whatever battle is going on in his head keeps him silent. It seems like we’ve covered the trivial things about us until I consider one last thing.

I stand up and walk to the end of the bed. “I just realized we’ve been married for three months, and I don’t even know your birthdate.”

“November fifth.”

My mouth drops open, closes, and opens again. “Seriously?”

“No. It’s January first and I’m thirty-five-years-old.”

I rub my arms. “Joey.Mybirthday is November fifth.”

He’s as stunned as I am. “We have the same birthday?” He glances out at the weather. “Huh. I’m amazed I didn’t remember that.”

It’s another rainy day, so he’s propped up against the headboard, shirtless.God help me. The balcony door is open with a steady breeze. I take a seat next to him, grabbing the book from the bedside table I’ve been reading to him. Because it exhausted him, I started to read aloud.

His head rolls toward me with a lazy grin. “You’re still reading this romance to me?”

“The book isLightness In My Dark. And yes, we’re going to finish it.”

He lets out a heavy sigh. “Okay, go ahead.”

I give him a sideways glance, and begin, “Hooded eyes found Finn by the door, sliding to the floor. My hand faltered as our eyes locked and never disconnected. One foot on the floor, leg bent, he freed his erection from his gym shorts, and stroked it, slow and disciplined, an invitation for me to resume. His hand tugged on his cock and balls as if prepping them. Finn’s head fell back on the door, his hand sliding, jerking moans, unsure which one of us they came from. His seductive gaze and messy hair only added to my need. The release I’ve kept contained for years. His mouth partly opened; face tortured by his own wants. He was eager for us to come. Up and down, in and out, our pace picked up, gasps, groans, and then my back arched as the tremor rattled through me, and shortly after, Finn grunted out his release.”

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