Page 79 of Storm
"Hey," I murmur. "You okay?"
His hand covers mine where it rests against his stomach, warm and reassuring. "Just processing," he says, his voice rough with emotion. He turns in my arms, his own coming up to hold me close. "It's a lot, you know?"
I look up at him, taking in the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines that shouldn't be there on his face. "Yeah," I agree, leaning my head against his chest. "Who would've thought we'd end up here, hiding in the mountains with the same alphas we've been stuck with for four years?"
His heart beats steadily beneath my ear, a familiar rhythm that's been a constant in my life for four years. Here, away from watching eyes, the simple comfort of his embrace feels like home. I feel safe wrapped up in his arms.
"Life has a weird sense of humor," Frankie says with a small laugh that vibrates against my cheek. His fingers stroke through my wild curls, the gentle touch so different from Rook's.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "For dragging you into this. I never meant for any of this to happen."
"I know," he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "But I'm not sorry. I would've followed you anywhere, Storm. You have to know that by now."
I look up at him and something shifts inside me, a feeling I've kept buried for too long. Before I can second-guess myself, I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his.
Frankie freezes, his body going completely still against mine. For a terrible moment, I think I've made a horrible mistake. Then his arms tighten around me, and he's kissing me back, tentative at first, then with growing confidence. His lips are soft and warm, his scent wrapping around me like a familiar blanket.
When we break apart, his eyes are wide with surprise, a flush spreading across his cheeks. "Storm, I?—"
"I'm sorry I didn't ask first," I whisper, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure he can feel it. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."
A smile spreads across his face. "Really? You have?"
I nod, suddenly shy despite the boldness of my action. "Yeah. For years, actually."
His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing gently across my skin. "Me too," he admits. "I just never thought... it could be possible."
The quiet admission makes my throat tight with emotion.
We stand like that for a long moment, just holding each other, finding comfort in a friendship that's been my lifeline for four years. The morning sun streams through the window, his golden hair so beautiful and brings out the tiny flecks of amber in his warm eyes.
A noise from another room breaks the spell, the sound of footsteps approaching. We break apart reluctantly, as much as I want to tell Reed to go fuck himself. I don’t want that this morning. I want this moment to be just ours.
The footsteps grow louder, and then a woman appears in the doorway. She's in her late forties maybe, with warm hazel eyes so similar to Fox's, and honey-blonde hair pulled back in a loose bun. She's wearing worn jeans and a soft-looking sweater, a far cry from the formal attire of the betas at the Omega House. Her scent is subtle—fresh baked bread and lavender—and she freezes when she sees us, eyes widening in surprise.
"Who are you?" she asks, her voice firm but not unkind. There's no fear in her stance, just cautious curiosity.
"I'm Storm," I say, automatically stepping slightly in front of Frankie in a protective gesture. "This is Frankie. Alexander and Reed brought us here last night."
Her posture relaxes immediately, a smile spreading across her face that transforms her from pretty to beautiful. "Oh! Of course. Alex mentioned that there would be guests in his message, though I didn't expect you to be up so early." She steps forward, gesturing toward the kitchen with a welcoming sweep of her arm. "Come, breakfast will be ready in a moment. You need to eat."
Her immediate acceptance takes me by surprise. No suspicion, no veiled hostility, just simple hospitality. She moves to the refrigerator with practiced ease, pulling out eggs and bacon, her movements efficient and sure.
"I'm Elena, by the way," she adds over her shoulder. "Fox's mother."
That explains the resemblance. Elena moves with an easy confidence that has me smiling. I like her.
"It's nice to meet you," Frankie says, his natural politeness kicking in despite his obvious surprise. He's always been better at social graces than I have.
"You too, dear," Elena says, patting his arm as she passes to reach the stove. The casual touch makes Frankie look at me with worry. Does he think I will be upset with him? I smile and I watch his shoulders relax. I give him a quick kiss on the cheek and turn back to Elena.
"Is there anything we can help with?" I offer, watching as she efficiently navigates the kitchen, pulling out pans and utensils with familiar ease.
"Oh, thank you, but you are guests.” She replies with a wave of her hand.
“We can’t stand here and have you do all the work. That would be rude,” I let her know as I walk around the bench. Wanting to be put to work.
“Oh, well, if you insist.” She gives me a warm smile as she hands over some placemats. “You can set the table," she says, nodding toward a cabinet. "Plates are in there, silverware in the drawer below. The coffee's almost ready, and there's orange juice in the fridge."
