Page 55 of Storm
"I can see why he's struggling with you," I say with a grin. "You're his worst nightmare."
"I try," she replies, a smirk playing at her lips.
"And you, Frankie," I turn to the beta, who startles at being directly addressed. "How are you finding pack life so far?" He shifts uncomfortably.
“It's... different, sir—I mean, Alex. Very different from the Omega House."
"Better or worse?"
"Better food," he says cautiously. "Bigger rooms. More... freedom, I guess?"
"But?" I prompt, sensing the hesitation in his voice. He glances at Storm, who gives him an encouraging nod.
"But it's strange," he admits. "Being part of a pack when we're not really... when it's not..."
"When it's all been thrown together without the normal protocols?" I finish for him. "I understand that feeling all too well."
Storm's eyes narrow at that, her gaze suddenly more assessing. "Do you now?" I realize I've said too much and quickly change course.
"So, what did my brother and Reed tell you about me?"
"Absolutely nothing," Storm says bluntly. "I didn't even know Jonathan had a twin until your fathers mentioned you." That surprises me.
"My fathers came here?"
"Yesterday morning," she confirms. "They were... charming." I wince, knowing exactly how "charming" our fathers can be.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with them."
"They seemed very interested in your whereabouts," she adds, watching me carefully. "Something about your absence being 'noticed.'"
Damn it, Jonathan, why didn’t you tell me this? "Did they now?"
"Where have you been, Alexander?" she asks, her tone light but her eyes sharp. "Everyone seems very concerned about your extended absence."
"Here and there," I say vaguely. "I've been handling some personal matters."
"For four months?" she presses.
"Has it been that long?" I feign surprise. "Time flies when you're having fun." She looks like she's about to push further, but Frankie interrupts.
"We were playing cards when you arrived," he says, gesturing to the scattered deck. "Do you play?" Bless him for the distraction.
"I do, actually. What's your game?"
"Gin rummy," Storm answers, her eyes still studying me with uncomfortable intensity. "Though I'm open to other suggestions."
"Poker?" I offer, unable to resist teasing her a little. "I warn you, though, I have an excellent poker face. Runs in the family." She snorts.
"Jonathan doesn't have a poker face. He has a permanent scowl that occasionally softens into a slightly less severe scowl."
I laugh so hard I nearly spill my water. "That's the most accurate description of my brother I've ever heard."
She grins, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of who she might be under different circumstances—bright, witty, gorgeously untamed. I understand a little better why Jonathan is so flustered by her. She sees through the façade, through the careful control, to the person beneath.
As if sensing my thoughts, her scent suddenly intensifies, dark chocolate notes flooding the room as she perfumes unconsciously. Unlike Jonathan, who would probably tense up and fight against his response, I let myself enjoy it, breathing her in without hiding my appreciation.
"You know," I say with a relaxed smile, leaning forward slightly, "if Jonathan had mentioned how enchanting you are, I might have come back to the city sooner."
