Page 65 of The Spider & the Storm

He was teasing, offering a friendly smirk. The more of myself I gave, the more at ease he seemed while I stressed that it was all too much, like I was diving in too deep and too fast.

“Anyway, we’d better get back to the party,” Blake said, already beginning to walk back inside. “Don’t keep her up too late, Charlie. She’s got work in the morning.”

The woman beside me groaned lightheartedly. “Whatever, Dad.”

Dorothy tossed a friendly wave over her shoulder while keeping up with Blake, her arm still wrapped around his as they disappeared inside.

“So, Ch—”

“What was—”

We spoke at the same time, and then we both laughed. Hers a giggle stifled by closed lips, mine a gruff chuckle. Her cheeks deepened in their blush as my face was set on fire.

“What were you gonna say?” I asked.

“No, you go first.”

I shook my head, furrowing my brow. “It wasn’t anything. I, um, I was just wondering what her name was—Blake’s—”

“Audrey. She’s Blake’s wife,” Stormy girl replied. “Sorry. I don’t know why I thought you already knew. I should’ve introduced you, but …” She laughed again, and I reveled far too much in the smokiness of the sound. Like sitting beside a bonfire on a cool autumn evening. “Okay, I thought about it, but I felt a little stupid, not knowing your name. And Blake was already going all big brother on me …”

I shrugged with forced nonchalance. “No big deal.”

“He gets like that. Maybe a littletoooverprotective for his own good, but … it's nice,” she went on, plucking at a loose thread in her lacy skirt.

She liked to talk. Far more than I did. I wondered if it helped her nerves, to fill the dead air with the sound of something. I was the opposite; I clammed up when I was even remotely anxious. It was for the better, knowing damn well that I was likely to stutter my way through whatever stupid nonsenseI was trying to say, only to fuck it up and spend the night in a puddle of sweat while keeping those humiliating moments on repeat in my mind.

But I liked listening to her.

I didn't want to, knowing I would probably spend many sleepless hours replaying the way she’d said certain words in my head. Slowing them down, speeding them up, memorizing the inflections. But it was happening. I knew it in the way my heartbeat hammered an erratic beat at the sound of her voice while my shoulders loosened just a little, relieving the tiniest amount of tension.

She relaxed me, and, fuck, it wasn't good.

But … I liked it.

“Why?” I bit out the one-worded question just to keep her talking, and, sure, I was curious.

She replied with a huffed laugh. “Why what?”

“Why does he, you know”—I gestured with a hand—“get like that?”

I hadn't known it at the time, but I soon learned that it was the wrong thing to ask.

Stormy girl stiffened at my side, her leg frozen mid-bounce. Her hands clenched together; her lips puckered and pulled to one side. She pulled in a deep breath and cleared her throat.

“Never mind,” I was quick to add. “Don't—”

“Let's just say, I don't have a great track record with men,” she replied and released the air in her lungs. “And Blake,Cee—the lady with the dreads—they're my best friends, they're practically family, and they know all about it.”

“Ah.”

It wasn't the answer I'd wanted or expected. My brain automatically envisioned her sleeping with a slew of questionable men. Threesomes. Full-blown orgies. Her body among a massive heap of tangled limbs and nameless faces contorted in immense pleasure. It was ridiculous and irrational, but that never stopped my brain from working itself to death before.

“Maybe I'll tell you about it someday,” she quietly added.

“If you want.”

“A man of many words,” she jabbed, relaxing again with a snarky retort.

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