Beautiful Storm (San Francisco End Game #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Luke

I . Am. Raging. It takes everything in my power not to go after Amelia’s deadbeat dad until she grabs my arm and almost falls to the ground, struggling to suck in air. The anger drains from my body along with my blood as panic takes over me, a memory of her panic attack in the attic flashing through my mind. “Amelia, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head as tears prick her eyes and my heart seizes. “Amelia, please.” Dropping to my knees, I pull her into my lap and wrap my arms around her, locking her into my protective hold. “What happened? What did he do before I got here? Are you hurt?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Thomas and Reed take a step forward, but I subtly shake my head, silently telling them to go back inside.

Amelia shifts in my arms before pulling back to look at me. “I’m not hurt,” she whispers. “Not in the physical sense.”

“Fuck, Amelia. You should have let me go. I wanted to hurt him. I held back because you tugged on my shirt.”

“It wouldn’t have helped. The damage was already done.”

“Damage?” A tightness wells in my chest. I only heard a bit of what he was saying about me, but I know enough. He was comparing us. And if Amelia hates anyone more than me, it’s him. Pointing out our similarities doesn’t bode well for me. “What damage?”

“For years after he walked away, he kept his distance. I never got a card on my birthday. There was no contact. But when I graduated from high school, he called. I refused to speak to him at the time and have refused again every other time since. Right up until today. Because while a tiny part of me always wondered if I was missing something, I never allowed myself to find out. Instead, I chose to pretend I never heard from him to stop myself from spiraling. Because if he hadn’t changed, and he hurt me again, then I’d be forced to admit that maybe I’m not lovable. That I’m not…” She trails off as she wipes frantically at a rogue tear as it falls down her cheek, her gaze staring through me. “Mom distanced herself when Dad left, Preston chose music over me, time and time again, and…” She shakes her head, but I don’t need her to fill in the blanks.

“And I broke your trust, making you believe I never cared.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffs before letting more tears fall. “I don’t want to feel that way and I don’t blame you anymore, it’s just…”

“It still happened and it was another knife to the chest.”

“Yes.”

“Amelia, I need you to look at me.” She lifts her eyes, but once again, her gaze is vacant, until I grab her face in my hands, silently begging her to break out of her daze. A beat lingers between us before her eyes soften and she subtly nods.

“Thank you. Now I need you to listen. Can you do that?” She nods again but it’s not enough. “I mean, really listen.”

“Okay,” she says before squeezing my hand.

“I know this is hard to believe considering the way he acted, but I’m sure your dad loves you. My guess is that he flipped to defense mode. Hurting you before you hurt him again.”

“I hurt him?”

“He probably thinks so, though he absolutely deserves it. But maybe he’s hurt by the fact that you refuse to talk to him.”

“Right. And good. He should be.” She pouts and it’s so adorable that a small huff of a laugh chuffs out of me.

“I’m not going to disagree there. My point is that you are lovable. You are loved.”

I love you.

Woah . The thought hits me as emotions swirl through my chest making my heart swell. I knew I was falling, but am I there? Jesus . Yes, I love her.

“I promise you’re loved. Sometimes people just have a strange way of showing it.”

My confession sits on the tip of my tongue but I hold it back. It’s not the right time. Amelia’s trust issues aside, if I tell her now, she’s forever going to link my profession to this moment, and she deserves better.

She stares up at me with narrow eyes, confusion marring her features. “Do you want to know something funny?”

“Sure.” My confusion mirrors hers. I thought we were having a deep conversation but who am I to judge?

She smiles as if reading my thoughts. “I believe you,” she whispers with an awe to her tone. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

“Good, I’ll take that as progress.”

Her smile widens before she glances around the parking lot and gasps, jumping up. “I’m good now. I promise.”

“What are you doing? There’s no one out here.”

“I know but we’re still on the ground in a parking lot. I’d rather not be here when anyone comes out.”

“Fair enough. Shall we get you home?”

“Don’t you have your team workout? I don’t want to poke the bear.”

“What?” My brows furrow in confusion until Amelia bites back a grin. “Oh, you mean Easton. Don’t worry about him. His bark is way worse than his bite. Come on, let’s go.”

A fter walking Amelia to her car, I jump in my truck and follow her home. Home . Amelia didn’t question me when I used that term earlier. She went along with it and now she’s on her way to my place, without a second thought.

And there’s another small step for progress.

Breaking down Amelia’s walls was never going to be easy—especially when I’m the one that forced her to erect them in the first place—but I’m not giving up until she knows her worth and I’ve convinced her that I know it too. She needs to understand that I’m here for her and for Jelly Bean and that I’ll do whatever it takes to show her how much they mean to me.

And when the time is right… I’ll tell her too.

She pulls into my garage a few seconds before I do, but takes her time getting out of her car and then hovers near the door waiting for me, reminding me about my little present.

“I got something for you. So you don’t have to be awkward anymore,” I say as I reach her.

“Who says I’m awkward?”

“No one. Would you believe I figured it out all by myself?”

“What?” She fakes a gasp. “Shocker. So what did you get me?”

“This.” I hold up the key chain I had made by a friend’s wife who has one of those online craft shops. I actually got it done before asking her to live with me but I was hopeful. On one side it has the Storm logo to make it appear generic but on the other side is a message just for her.

“Keys? To your place?” she asks without noticing the keychain.

“Yes, keys. To our place. So you can come and go as you please.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

She smiles shyly but continues to stand awkwardly by the door until I burst out laughing. “Are you going to test them out?”

“Why? You’ve got keys.”

“God, you are lucky I l—like you because you are a royal pain in my ass, minus the royalness.”

“Okay, jeez. I’ll try it.”

When she lifts the keys, her eyes catch on the key chain and she laughs. “Aww you stole me a Storm keyring. I love it.”

I keep quiet while she unlocks the door and remain that way as she walks in, making her way to the cabinet where I always throw my keys.

“They work,” she whispers. “Thank you. I appreciate this.”

My shoulder lifts in a small shrug before I walk away and wait for her gasp of realization, counting down the seconds until she sees the other side. I’m about to say something—thinking she hasn’t noticed it—when she bursts out laughing.

“Luke.”

“What?” I ask, all innocently.

“Are these keys you had lying around or…”

“Or what? What’s the issue?”

“ I’m obsessed with number 42 ?”

“You are? That’s nice to know.”

She rolls her eyes as she catches up to me, but it’s impossible to miss the smile she’s hiding beneath her fake annoyance.

“Admit it. It’s cute.” I bounce my eyebrows until she bursts out laughing again.

“I’m beginning to wonder if you proclaimed yourself an eternal bachelor because deep down you knew no one would put up with you.”

“Or maybe I was waiting for the right person to come back into my life.” The words are out before I can stop them, but since it’s not a lie, I own it and wait for Amelia’s freak-out. But it doesn’t happen. Instead her lips pull into the most beautiful smile and her eyes soften.

“Who knew there was a sweet man under all that playful hotness.”

I burst out laughing as her smile turns into a sassy grin. “No one knew. Because this is yet another version of me reserved only for you. ”

And I can’t imagine ever wanting to be this way with anyone else.

Amelia works for the rest of the afternoon, while I mentally plan her new home office. She tried to tell me it wasn’t necessary since she’d only be working for another month or so, but all I heard was “I’ll be working for another month or so,” which means she needs an office.

When dinner comes around, we work together, creating a meal out of the food I have in my fridge and then we talk as we eat, catching up on the part of our days that we missed, discussing our plans for tomorrow.

Like a married couple. A real one.

And it feels right.

I almost consider texting Easton to give him kudos for his advice, but I don’t because his grumpy mood might dampen mine.

We sit down to watch a movie after dinner, but we’re barely a third through when Amelia gets up and walks toward the kitchen, rubbing her forehead. “I’m not feeling so good.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m nauseous and my headache has moved to my eyes. I think I’m getting a migraine.”

“Shit.” My pulse spikes as my chest burns. “Is that normal? Do you get migraines?”

Without answering, she closes her eyes and buries her face in her hands. “God, I can barely see.”

“What?” I rush to her side and gently touch her hips, guiding her back toward the couch but pause when she groans. “What can I do? Tell me how to help.” If I was worried before in the parking lot, it’s nothing compared to now.

“I don’t… I’m really dizzy.” She blinks rapidly as she speaks and when she’s finished, she sways slightly, almost falling away from me until I clutch her in my arms, my panic rising. “ Amelia .”