8. Storm

8

STORM

"Hit me with a Shirley Temple," I told Rush across the bar as I sat down next to Shawn in Jade Brewery.

"Storm! Fancy seeing you here," Shawn said as I gave him a pat on the back.

"Sawyer said you guys were here for happy hour," I told him.

I also thought Fancy Pants might be here too , I thought.

Though it didn't seem like Emmett was anywhere in here, and I was a little surprised at how disappointed I was.

I'd just wanted to mess with him a little more, today. Was that so bad? Seeing him go all blushy when I blew him a kiss had been like catnip.

But even if Emmett wasn't here, I could at least grab a drink with Shawn.

"We have plenty of other virgin cocktails, if you want to take a look," Rush said. "Not in the mood for liquor today?"

"Got practice early tomorrow morning, and a game the day after that," I said. "Normally that wouldn't necessarily stop me, but to be honest, I kind of just fucking love Shirley Temples, too."

Shawn laughed. "You hear that, babe?" he said to Rush. "I told you."

Rush grinned. "Shawn's been trying to convince me that everyone secretly likes Shirley Temples, but they're too afraid to order them."

"Because it sounds like it's for a kid," Shawn said. "But the drink is just delicious."

"I am with you, one hundred percent," I told him. "I am firmly on Team Shirley Temple. Hell, make it a double."

"What's a double for a Shirley Temple?" Shawn asked.

"Two Maraschino cherries, of course," I said.

They laughed at me, but a minute later, Rush passed my drink across the bar, and it had not only two but three bright red cherries on top.

"Now that's service," I said. "That's why people must keep coming back to Jade Brewery."

Shawn picked up his beer glass and we clinked our glasses together, taking a sip. The icy-cold, fizzy cherry drink went down easy, refreshing as ever.

"Thanks for stopping by our meeting room this afternoon," Shawn told me. "You didn't have to do that."

"Was happy to," I said. "Emmett is so diligent. He really works closely with you guys."

"That's why he's the best in the game," Shawn said. "He and his business partner Landry are like a dream team."

"He has a business partner?"

Shawn looked up, surprised. "He hasn't talked to you about Landry? He calls him by his nickname Lucky, sometimes. I guess they're more colleagues than business partners, but they're definitely best friends. They act like brothers."

Guess there's a whole lot I don't know about Fancy Pants.

For some reason, I felt like I was out of the loop. Like Emmett showed a different side of himself to everyone else. Like he had a whole world that he was hell-bent on keeping me out of.

I shrugged. "Guess he hasn't mentioned his friend to me. Emmett always seemed like more of a lone wolf kind of guy."

Shawn shook his head. "Not really. He's friendly."

Yet again, someone was describing Emmett as friendly, when he'd been anything but friendly to me. My own interactions with him weren't technically friendly either, though, so what the hell did I know?

A young guy with a shy smile walked in from the door to the back patio and came up to the bar.

"I'll have another two of the fall ales," he said.

"Hey, Jamie. How's it going out there with Emmett?" Shawn asked.

My ears perked up.

"Really well, actually," Jamie said. "He's such a nice guy. Really good conversationalist. And I swear, he looks like Leo—"

"DiCaprio. I know, right?" Shawn said.

"Thanks so much," Jamie told Rush as he grabbed the two drinks, one of them clearly for Emmett. "I want to get back out there. I'll see you later!"

Jamie headed back out toward the patio.

"So that's clearly not Emmett's lucky best friend, or whatever you were saying?" I prodded Shawn.

"That would be Jamie," Shawn said. "He's our camera guy Chase's brother. And I had a sneaking suspicion he'd hit it off with Emmett, so I'm playing a little bit of Cupid."

Suddenly it felt like a miniature dragon had reared its head inside my chest. A possessive flash came over me, and suddenly I felt even ten times more out of the loop than before.

Since when did I ever feel left out? FOMO was a thing that my friends talked about, but I hadn't felt anything like this since…

Well, since I was a kid.

Since I'd been left out of everything, all of the time, back in school. It was a feeling I'd been very happy to forget, and I wasn't trying to start feeling it again now as an adult. So why did I suddenly care that Emmett was outside on a blind date? Why would I care about his world so damn much at all?

"I hope your Cupid matchmaking works out," I lied. "Emmett needs something to distract him from how much he hates me."

Shawn shook his head. "Emmett doesn't hate you. He was super impressed with you today, actually."

I watched Shawn like a hawk, very interested in what he meant by that. "Impressed with me, huh?"

"He thought you were nice to the Racks exec," Shawn said. "He said he liked your outfit, too, and you know that's a compliment if it's coming from Emmett Waycott."

I puffed out a laugh. I heard a gasp coming from the far side of the brewery, and when I turned to look, I saw Harlan, the lumberjack brewer, picking up Sawyer and covering him in kisses.

"The Fixer Brothers' landscaping guy is with the head brewer here?" I said. "I just had a meeting with Sawyer an hour ago and now I'm literally watching him get swept off his feet. It really does feel like Cupid works all his magic here, or something."

There was an ache deep in my heart watching Sawyer and Harlan being so completely in love.

It wasn't that I wanted love that badly.

Or was it?

Regardless, it was yet another thing I'd had no idea about. Everyone here had a rich history, a story of their own.

For all I knew, Emmett was out on the back patio with a guy who would become the love of his life.

I was one of the best pro football players in the nation. I was famous on just about every social media platform. I was supposed to be the next star of the Fixer Brothers show.

But right now I was just part of the background.

An hour later, Emmett and Jamie still hadn't come back inside the bar. Mom liked to say that it was "a dangerous thing when Storm Rosling gets bored," and as a kid, I'd rolled my eyes and laughed.

But right now I sort of knew what she meant.

When I got bored, something started to stir inside me, and I went looking for… whatever I could find. Fun, trouble, attention, or some combination of all three.

I got up and started heading for the back patio before I could stop myself.

So what if Emmett and Jamie were out there, hitting it off and becoming star-crossed lovers?

I wasn't jealous.

I was just curious.

I pushed open the door to the outside deck, a cooler air hitting my skin. The patio was serene right now compared to the inside of the bar. The music from the jukebox was gentler out here, filtering out through an open window into the air.

It was a perfect fall evening. The kind I knew Emmett must love. The sun had just set, and it smelled like beer and a far-off campfire. The occasional sound of chatting and laughter floated over from Spruce Street.

When I looked toward the far end of the patio, I saw Emmett by himself, leaning on the railing near the covered edge of the deck. He was sipping on a beer, looking out over the grassy, tree-lined outdoor area, seemingly deep in thought.

He was alone.

And for some reason, something in me lit up like a little neon exclamation point.

Tension bloomed inside me as I walked over toward him.

"So where's your young, blushing date?" I asked as I walked over and leaned on the wood railing next to him.

"Storm," Emmett said, glancing up at me with surprise. "Since when are you here?"

Christ, he looked good. He was in one of his usual nice suits, but he'd taken off the jacket and carefully draped it on the back of a nearby chair. The button-up shirt underneath showcased his body a little more, the perfect tailoring fitting him like a glove.

"Been here for at least an hour," I told him, "Jade Brewery is a very inclusive place, even to marketing liabilities like me, Fancy Pants."

I'd been expecting a sneer, but Emmett puffed out a quick laugh.

His face also looked more classically handsome than ever as he stood under the dim glow of the string lights. They were the same kind I had in my backyard. The ones we'd been standing under when I'd lost my mind and kissed him.

A little disbelieving thrill looped itself through my body.

God, I still couldn't believe I'd done that. It had been fun. Really fun, actually.

"To answer your question," Emmett finally said. "Jamie headed off about ten minutes ago. I let him down easy. It was nice to talk to him, though. He's here on vacation from California, and he's very sweet."

Some strange relief washed over me hearing that Jamie was only here for a trip. He wasn't going to end up with Emmett, because he didn't even live here.

Not that it mattered who Emmett might end up with.

"Maybe you'll meet up with him again some other time," I offered.

"Maybe," Emmett said simply, looking off toward the trees as he cradled his beer.

The dragon inside me poked around, unsatisfied. Where was the usual reaction Emmett gave me?

Why was he acting so calm? Not poking at me like a fire, not pushing my buttons?

I cleared my throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ask away," he replied, just as calmly.

"Why were you so nervous to see me when I showed up at the door to the Racks meeting?"

Emmett glanced over at me.

Button, pushed.

"I had one too many coffees earlier today," he said. "And I have a question for you , too. Why were you doing that? Acting all nicey-nicey to Tad from Racks?"

"I wasn't acting like anything," I said. "That's just who I am."

Emmett turned his head to one side, clicking his tongue. "Not what you've shown me."

A little fire started to blaze inside me.

There it was. The Emmett treatment I'd come to expect. I was starting to think I was addicted to getting him riled up—I liked the spark that appeared in his eyes, and the way he looked at me like I was a challenge.

And I really liked having his attention on me.

"I'm not just one type of person, Emmett," I said. "You think I'm only capable of being one thing, because you only think about one thing."

"Quit saying all I care about is money," Emmett bit back at me, hard and fast. "It just isn't true."

I paused, slightly taken aback. My heart sank, suddenly feeling compassion for Emmett that seemed to come out of nowhere.

Emmett didn't just seem like he was sparring with me, with that comment.

He actually seemed a little hurt. Bruised, maybe. And that had never been my intention.

" Oh my God, it is him ," I heard a voice from behind me.

I turned to see a couple looking over at me, with big, disbelieving smiles on their faces.

"Storm Rosling?" the woman said to me, her eyes wide. "It's really you! I've loved you since you first joined Texas."

"Wow. Could we maybe ask for a picture with you? I'm so sorry," the guy next to her asked.

"You absolutely can," I said, swapping back into celebrity-mode in an instant.

It had been very hard to get used to at first, but by now I had come to expect this type of thing happening. The young couple had no idea that I'd just been in an emotional conversation with Emmett—in fact, when I got recognized, people tended to ignore anyone that I was with entirely.

I took a few photos with them and signed a paper Jade Brewery coaster for each of them. They headed back into the brewery after, and I turned to see Emmett giving me a polite smile.

"I'm so sorry," I told him.

"Don't be," he said. "I've worked with plenty of famous people."

"Emmett, I'm also sorry about what I said. I know money isn't the only thing you care about. I guess I was just trying to push your buttons. Do some shitstarting. You know? For fun."

He had a sad look on his face again, and it was making me panic a little inside.

I didn't want to make anyone sad. And something about it made me want to reach out and give Emmett a hug.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I've been so… consumed by this Racks deal. I swore I was about to have a minor heart attack at the meeting earlier, even before you came by and said hello. I barely slept last night."

I bit my lower lip. "Too busy thinking about my nude pics?"

Shit. Fuck. No. Not the time to make a joke, Rosling.

Emmett's expression changed in a flash. He'd just been vulnerable with me, probably for the first time ever, and I'd gone and made a joke.

Maybe not the best road to go down.

"Fuck off," Emmett said, his gaze dancing over my face, but there was a hint of compassion in his tone, too.

My cock perked up at him saying that. Confusing. Very confusing.

"I like you, Fancy Pants," I said without thinking, my voice coming out low and quiet. "Sure, I hate the idea of you, just as much as you hate me, but that doesn't mean I don't like you, too. You're good to talk to."

"Shut up," he said, but again, his voice held no bite. As he shook his head I could see the slightest hint of a smile on his face.

It felt good , seeing that smile.

"Just be real with me," I said. "Please? No Mr. Multi-Millionaire bullshit. What is it that you want so badly, Emmett?"