Page 71 of When the Storm Breaks
It crashes over me, sudden, unbidden, loud enough to echo through the quieting bar.
And I’m not fucking ready for it.
Because it’s not just a laugh. It’sher. Real and raw andalivein a way I’ve never seen before. Like a crack splitting through stone, letting the light bleed through. Like shedding a second skin—peeling back the silence, the sadness, the cautious glances she gives when she thinks no one’s watching.
It’s the sound of her breaking open, piece by piece, right in front of me.
And it fucking ruins me.
I brace myself, focus orbiting her like I don’t have a say in it. I glance at Tanner. Scan the room. Anything to pull myself back, to stopfrom drowning in this feeling I still don’t know how to name.
Only a few stragglers left. Tanner’s fine.
No reason to stay away.
I push forward, resting my elbows on the counter, letting the space between us shrink. When I’m finally close, she wrinkles her nose slightly and sniffs the air. Her brows pinch, just a little.
“You smell sweet.”
The words are blunt—so point-blank I almost laugh. Her voice is oddly serious, like she’s walking a fine line between awareness and whatever’s waiting for her on the other side of all that wine.
“Espresso martini,” I say.
Her eyes flash with something playful before she gasps, pressing a hand to her cheek in mock scandal.
“Ooh,” she drawls, stretching the word out. “Didn’t peg you for an espresso martini guy. Maybethat’swhy you didn’t like my wine on Christmas.”
She hiccups on the last word, and—Jesus.
I swallow down a laugh, shaking my head. “First of all,” I say, fighting a grin, “the martinis were spilled on me. We’re in a bar, you know?”
I pause, tilt my head, let the amusement show.
“And second of all, Calla—you’ve been drinking your favorite wine all night.”
Fuck.
Her grin falters. Just for a second.
I try to cover. “I liked it very much—”
Shit.
“Which is why I brought it into the bar inthe first place.”
I don’t even know if that’s true. But I know I don’t feel guilty about the lie.
Her cheeks flush, somehow turning even redder than they already were. I didn’t think that was even possible.
I wait, watching as something changes in her. It’s subtle, like watching a door click shut. A soft, slow retreat. Walls stacking back into place, brick by fucking brick.
And I don’t know why, but it makes me want to pull her right back through them.
“You’re full of surprises.”
Her head tilts, that soft, slow smile tugging at her lips.
“What do you mean?”
