19. Emmett

19

EMMETT

"You must be freezing," I told Storm as we headed off down the bustling downtown Denver street.

"For once, I'm good," he said. "I was overheating inside with that jacket. I need the cold air."

"I love it, too," I told him. "But I really want to know if that dinner was okay for you. I'm sensing that it kind of wasn't."

He winced. "I was hoping you couldn't tell."

My heart sank. "Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't realize—"

"I'm glad you didn't realize it, during the dinner," Storm said. "Because you rocked it, and I watched you set yourself up for an incredible client."

We walked under a cluster of trees on the sidewalk. "Forget about that for a second, though. What was going on for you?"

Storm glanced sideways at me. As we slowly walked, he thought for a while, not saying anything. When he finally spoke, he paused underneath a street lamp, his face illuminated in the glow.

"Am I a burden on your life?" he asked.

It felt like my heart cracked a little, just hearing him ask it.

His voice sounded smaller than I'd ever heard it before. The usual Storm Rosling bravado had been shelved, and I realized that he was probably being more vulnerable with me now than ever .

I turned to him, the breeze chilling the back of my neck as I held his gaze.

"I think you're the best thing that's happened to my life in a long time, actually," I said.

I was meeting his candidness with my own.

And while that would have felt impossible with him just a couple of weeks ago, now it felt inevitable.

Storm was starting to know me better than almost anyone else. What did I have to lose by laying it all on the line with him?

He shifted on his feet, looking down before looking back up at me. "Do you think that I could reflect badly on you?"

"Storm, the Racks deal was my fault, not yours."

"I know that," he said, waving a hand.

"I was so worried that your reputation would affect it, but the fact is that the company just didn't mesh with the project, and that happens, sometimes."

Storm nodded, chewing on his lower lip for a moment. "But what about you and me?"

It was the first time I'd ever seen him struggle for words. He was almost acting awkward, which I didn't know was possible.

"You and me?"

"Like, let's say we were… together. At other dinners like tonight. Would that reflect badly on you, or some crap like that?"

"Together," I repeated, turning the word over in my mind.

What did he mean by that?

And why did it make something flutter in my chest, in a way that it probably shouldn't?

He groaned in frustration, looking up at the trees and sky above us. He ran his hands through his hair, then gave a big, animated shrug.

"Fuck it," he said. "I'm just going to say it. If I was, um, dating you. If I was your boyfriend."

It felt like the world beneath me had just tilted.

And for a moment, I had no clue what to say.

I wasn't even breathing, for God's sake.

Storm Rosling was standing there, asking about what it might be like if we were dating?

"I—" I started.

"It's okay," he said. "Listen, I am just as happy being your, ah, fuck toy, or anything like that. I know I'm not, um, boyfriend material. I'm kind of a loose cannon. Well, screw it, I won't mince words. I can be a burden."

"My fuck toy? " I repeated, and a peal of laughter sounded out from behind us.

We turned to see a group that must have been a bachelorette party walking by. There was one woman wearing a white dress with Bride-2-Be scrawled on a sash across it. They all looked at us, and the bride-to-be pumped her fist in the air.

"Be his proud fuck toy!" she shouted at us as they walked by, clearly drunk. "I had a fuck toy once, and now I'm marrying him in two weeks!"

"Power to the fuck toys!" one of her friends shouted, and they all cheered and laughed again as they walked by.

Storm and I smiled like idiots, looking at one another.

But I still felt like my world was spinning. Like it was still shifting on its axis, subtly but deeply.

"You thought about what might happen if you were my boyfriend?" I asked him, looking up at him and suddenly feeling like I was going to melt.

"Listen, I know I'm not your type," he said. "All Ivy League educated, coming from old money, all that shit. I don't know what the fuck the brand names of nice tailored suits are, and to be honest, no matter how rich I get from football, I'll never care about those things."

"You don't have to care about any of that, Storm."

His eyes burned into mine. "I really care about you, though," he said. "I want to be… good, for you. In whatever way that means."

"You think you'd be a good boyfriend?" I asked, my heart feeling like it might burst.

He gave me a hint of his dimpled smile. "Oh, I know I'm a great boyfriend," he said. "I'm just not sure if you'd even consider me."

I shook my head. "Fuck off. Fuck you," I said, heat bubbling up in my chest.

"I know, I know," he said. "Let me down easy."

"God, are you crazy?" I asked. The fire that used to consume our every interaction came rushing back all at once, flooding me. "How could you ever think you'd be a burden to me?"

His eyes went wide as he looked back at me. "Oh."

" Oh ," I repeated, shaking my head. "Storm Rosling, you are certifiably out of your fucking mind if you think I wouldn't be the luckiest spoiled privileged-ass prick in the world to have you as my boyfriend."

A smile of pure joy spread across his face.

I reached out, giving him a little shove on his chest.

"Oh, it's on," he said in a low growl, and the amount of desire in the way he looked at me literally made my knees feel weak.

"Since when are you the kind of guy who would want a boyfriend, anyway?" I asked, trying to keep my tone even, despite the fact that inside I felt like a fucking fireworks show.

This sexy, incredible, talented, impossible man wanted me .

Storm shrugged. "Since I met you, Fancy Pants."

He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug before I could say another word. He pulled me in tighter than ever, crushing his lips to mine in a kiss.

And I actually felt like I was melting, now. Melting into his arms. Giving up the last bit of resistance I once had, and acknowledging just how fucking much this meant to me. How much he meant to me.

Storm had changed my life, in one fell swoop. He'd changed me for the better, just by being himself.

I loved who he was.

"God, I wanted this all night," he said, kissing all over my face. "Do you know how hard it is to sit next to you in public and not touch you constantly?"

"I was so focused on the dinner meeting because if I looked at you for too long I just wanted to fall into your arms, too," I said. "I can't believe I'm actually admitting that out loud. I made myself swear I wouldn't tell you."

"No. Tell me everything. I want to hear it all."

"Why do you want to be my boyfriend?" I said, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him in close. I nuzzled my face near the crook of his neck. "You could have any woman you wanted, any man you wanted, anyone . You didn't even know you were into dudes before, and I'm just some guy in a suit."

"But I want you to be my guy in a suit," he said, kissing me beside my ear. "No one else is on my level, Emmett. That's why. You really fucked with my head and with my heart. And maybe I really am crazy, because nothing felt better than that."

"Than being fucked with?"

"By you ," he added.

I smiled. "And being fucked."

"God, yes," he growled, leaning in to claim my mouth with his again.

When had I ever felt anything like this? Someone choosing me— really choosing me, for who I was? Storm was a challenge, in every way that I needed it. He was also one of the most affectionate people I'd ever known.

I breathed deeply as we broke off from the kiss.

"I'm glad you shook up my world, Storm," I murmured. "I didn't want it. But I really fucking needed it."

"It's what I do best," he said. "But I've got to say, you're not so bad at it yourself."

I puffed out a laugh. "All I did was prove to you that fall can be nice."

"Fall is my favorite season now," he said quickly, with a resolute tone.

"You don't have to lie to me. It's okay if we have a different preference, you know."

He shook his head. "Nope. Fall is when I fell for you . And I think that deserves a top slot for favorite season more than anything else."

My chest ached. "You're being too good to me. Quick, we need to fight with each other so that I don't explode. What am I supposed to do with all of these good feelings?"

"Feel them, baby," Storm said with a smile, rocking back and forth with me in his arms, like we were dancing to some music. "Feel everything. Because I'm right here with you."

That, I realized, was the one thing I hadn't been letting myself do, until I met Storm.

I hadn't been letting myself feel .

He'd crashed into my life like a meteorite, causing me to feel everything so acutely.

Feeling the pain and grief I'd been trying to repress at work, honoring my dad but also honoring my own values in the process.

Feeling the rage that came with not being in control, then learning that I had to give up the illusion of control if I ever wanted to be happy.

And then, finally feeling something that had been eluding me for longer than I could have known: that happiness, true happiness, that could only come from starting to live my life for me.

I wasn't hiding from anything anymore.

And I wouldn't hide my feelings from him, either.

"You make me so fucking happy," I whispered as I leaned against his chest. "And you drive me crazy, and you make my life so much better than it's ever been before."

"Just wait ‘til you see how good I am as a boyfriend," he murmured. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he laughed.

It was so unlikely that my path would ever cross with Storm's. But now that it had, I couldn't picture any other way forward for me.

It made sense, even though it didn't.

And maybe I was starting to love that.

"You know," I said. "I know of a really good coffee shop nearby that has a pumpkin spice boozy milkshake."

"That sounds like an abomination," Storm said, "and also sounds absolutely fucking delicious. Let's go."

He reached down to lace his fingers through mine, and we walked hand in hand down the street toward the shop.

Like boyfriends, instead of rivals.

Or maybe a little bit of both. Just how we liked it.