Page 69 of Volatile Obsessions

“It’s almost a tradition, really.”

“And you just volunteered my new home for the occasion?” I snapped, turning my head toward him.

“Well,” he grinned, “I would hope you don’t mind. You’ve got the most space, after all. Just consider it a house warming party.”

He couldn’t be serious.

“What’s in it for me?” I asked as steady as possible, tipping my head graciously at an older couple scouting around us.

“Pussy, lots of it, and good company. You don’t want to ride out a storm this large alone. Truuust me,” he drawled.

Was that supposed to make it better?

I enjoyed my space, enjoyed it quite a bit, and I wasn’t afraid to pass some storm in my own company.

“C’mon, Rome,” he cajoled knowingly. “You got the guest house and all. You have my word we won’t overdo it on the body count. Don’t forget, the power will go out eventually. With a storm this big, that’s a given. It’ll get quiet and you’ll have your space.”

He had a point. Unfortunately.

Despite not ever having a experienced a hurricane, I knew power loss was a probability. Sometimes it lasted hours, other times days. Depended on how bad the storm was and how quickly the power company could stitch things up. Having people around would make the blackout period less excruciating, I suppose.

“I guess we’re having a party then,” I sighed, resigned.

There was no use arguing him, honestly. He’d gone and organized it without my knowledge. What’s done is done.

A pleased grin spread across his face at my concession. “There’s my boy,” he said excitedly, squeezing me to his side. “I asked the reno guys to go ahead and put your shutters up, so that’s done too. We just need to prep.”

See?

Presumptuous dick.

“What all do we need?” I was already regretting my decision to let this slide.

Vic smirked gestured for me to follow him. “Some weed, food, and of course, drinks.”

This shit wreaked terribly, and unfortunately for me, no amount of weed or alcohol could have prepared me for the storm headed my way.

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