Bad Storm (14 page)

We sat across from
each other at the diner, but I could do little more than stare at the menu
before me. I was incredibly tired, and constantly anticipating a stomach ache
(or worse) thanks to my late night dip in the swamp.

“Feeling okay?”
Aamir asked slowly, not even bothering to look at his menu.

I forced a smile.
“A little tired.” I didn’t understand how he looked so awake and alert, like nothing
out of the ordinary had happened the night before.

A waitress with a
cheery disposition and a blonde pony tail came up to us, her olive green shirt
neatly pressed and tucked into her black waist apron.

“What can I get
for you guys?” she asked, looking between the two of us with equal attention.
She was so happy that I wondered for a moment if she was new
 
or just one of those awesomely friendly
waiters.

“Coffee will be
fine for me,” I said.

“Anything to eat?”
She asked, scribbling onto her pad.

“Toast. Just dry
toast.” I was afraid that anything else might awaken the terrible stomach ache
I should have had by now.
 

“And for you?” she
asked, turning to Aamir.

“I’ll have your
breakfast special and some coffee,” he said pleasantly, flashing her a smile as
he handed her the menu. I could see her smile broaden, and I knew she was
totally smitten with his good looks. Then, something flit across her face, like
recognition.

“Are you…sorry,
this is silly, but are you in Fun Aim, by any chance?”

“Um, yes, yes I
am,” Aamir said, suddenly getting bashful. It was apparent that he was still
getting used to the whole fame thing.

Honestly, it was
something I had forgotten about until she brought it up. But celebrities and
fame and even music, all of it seemed irrelevant after I faced certain death
and ran out in a tropical storm to save the girl whose engagement I totally
wrecked.

“Oh God, sorry if
this is weird, but I totally love your single
Crash and Burn
. I pre-ordered your album and I am just
dying
to hear it.” It was like she was
overcome with joy, and I could hardly believe that I was sitting across the
table of this random girl’s soon to be favorite rock star.

“Thanks,” he said
modestly, “that really means a lot to me.”

“Do you think you
could sign this napkin for me?” she asked, excitedly pulling a napkin from her
apron pockets and handing him a pen. My eyes widened as I realized that her
hands were slightly trembling.

“Sure…” Aamir
seemed slightly surprised, but took the pen and napkin with grace. “Who should
I make this out to?”

“Melissa,” she
gushed, “my friends are totally going to freak.”

Aamir laughed, as
if she had made a joke, and scrawled in lovely, loopy cursive, ‘To
Melissa—thanks for your kind words, hope the album meets your
expectations!’

I could feel my
jaw drop. This guy just wasn’t to be believed. He was not only gracious, hot,
intelligent, talented, strong, and all kinds of magical, but he was
ridiculously modest.

And it was then,
if I hadn’t completely decided before, that I realized I didn’t want him. I
couldn’t. Because no matter how long I could spend listing his perfect
qualities, proving how he was a god among men, nothing would change the fact
that he was imperfect in the only way that could make me love him.

He wasn’t Trent.

I could feel my
heart swell with feeling at the thought of his handsome cut face, lined with
stubble and that harrowing look like he hardly slept. He was impetuous,
jealous, quick to assume, indecisive, and a little full of it.

And I absolutely
wanted him more than anyone else.

After Melissa
left, humming the tune to
Crash and Burn
to herself, I smiled at him, suddenly empowered by the strong certainty that
came to me in that moment. It was like he didn’t hold power over me anymore.

“I bet you get
that a lot, don’t you?”

“Not really,” he
chuckled, scratching shyly behind his ear. “I mean, it just started happening
recently outside of shows. It’s pretty crazy really.”

“It’s great,” I beamed
at him. “You’re part of a great band. You deserve this.”

His expression
faltered for a moment. “Thanks,” he said. “Honestly, I’m having a hard time
reading your energy right now. Why aren’t you pissed at me? Or at least
suspicious?”

“I trust you,” I
admitted. “You saved my life. You helped me save Lola, and you have no idea who
she is. I mean, I’m tired and stupid and reckless, but I don’t think you know
what it means to me that you came. I needed help, I couldn’t do what I did
alone.”

Aamir just shook
his head for a moment. “You,” he smiled, “are incredible. You were on the verge
of dying, and all you could think about was saving this girl who apparently put
you in this situation to begin with.”

I cringed. There
was a lot about my relationship with Lola that he didn’t need to know about,
but I knew better than to pretend that I wasn’t somewhat responsible for the
situation I ended up in.

“She had good
reason to help Gita. I haven’t been the best person to her. But, since I’m part
of the pack and all…” I paused to see if he would react negatively, since I was
referencing the imprint. He didn’t flinch, and his expression betrayed no
emotion.

“I’m bound to her.
For better or worse, I’m her family now. I’m one of them.”

Aamir remained
quiet for a moment, and Melissa came back cheerily with our mugs, pouring the
black coffee into the creamy ceramic and laying out creamers for us. By the
time she left, Aamir seemed ready to speak up.

“I underestimated
the power of that bond. I guess I was in denial.” He admitted, mixing his
coffee with the wooden stirrer as he poured the creamer in.

“Yeah, I think I
did too,” I said, staring at the white cream as it turned my coffee into a
milky brown. “But it’s not just the bond Aamir,” I said, forcing my gaze
upwards to meet his. “I mean, this is my home. And these are the people I
belong with. I belong with Trent.”

The words came out
strong and unapologetic, and though I hate to sound harsh, I knew it was
important that I take a stance. For once in my life, I needed to feel sure of
who I was, and not feel conflicted about it.

I needed to be
with Trent. Even if that meant it hurting Aamir.

He nodded and
looked away, and I could see the pain filling his deep brown eyes. I fought the
urge to reach out for his hand and comfort him, to tell him that it would all
work out. Because I didn’t know that it would, and I wasn’t the person who
could fix it for him. By listening to my heart, I would have to accept the
consequences.

“I know. I can
tell by the way he looks at you. He deserves you.” He finally forced himself to
look at me, and I bit my lip, keeping myself in check. “I’m just the unlucky
guy who fell for the wrong girl.”

He forced a smile
on his face that I could tell was killing him inside.

“I would have
never led you on if I had known,” I said quietly.

“Hey, it would
have hurt no matter what. I saw you and I knew that I wanted to be with you.
It’s silly, but it’s true.” he shook his head as if disgusted with himself.
“But even if things were different, something would have gotten in the way.
Like my family. Or my curse.”

“You don’t have a
curse,” I said quickly. “You have a gift!”

He laughed
humorlessly. “Don’t pretend you didn’t fight it yourself. You wanted to feel
your own genuine emotions, and while it’s tempting to submit to something that
can make you feel good, it isn’t honest. I manipulate. I guess that’s why
everything I say is honest—I feel a lot of guilt over what I do. Over
what I’m expected to do.”

He took a long sip
of his coffee, his eyes wandering over to the diner walls covered in retro
pictures of cars and Coca-Cola advertisements.

“You’re in control
of who you are. I know it’s easy for me to say because I don’t know everything
you have to go through as a part of your clan or whatever, but you decided to
be a musician. And Fun Aim is getting huge! You also decided to save me. No one
told you to do that,” I said in a hushed voice. I felt a surge of affection for
him. Not romantic, but filled with respect and admiration.

Aamir was a good
person, and while I didn’t know a whole lot about empaths or nymphs or warlocks
or whatever, I knew what made a person good. Nobody could convince me
otherwise.

“Thanks,” he said,
and I could see that he meant it. “That really means a lot to me.”

Melissa came back
with the food on a tray, mindlessly chattering to Aamir about their upcoming
tour schedule as she placed our plates before us. Aamir was polite and answered
all of her questions to the best of his ability before she finally left.

I took a bite into
the plain toast, realizing for the first time since I had woken up that I was
ravenous.

“Hey,” I said
finally, breaking the silence between us as we ate. “I know this might be a lot
to ask, but I want to be friends if that’s at all possible.”

“To be completely
honest with you,” he responded, “I think I need a good deal of space.”

I nodded in
understanding, feeling my heart drop to my stomach.

‘You can’t have it
all,’ I reminded myself.

“But I hope that
one day that we can be friends. You’re a unique person, Bailey,
 
I admire that.”

I laughed, a pronounced
“ha!” leaving my lips, but I couldn’t help but smile genuinely. Even if I was
turning him down, I knew inside that one day he was going to make some chick
super happy. And she would make him happy in return.

Because good
things happen to good people sometimes. I felt it in that moment in my tired
bones and my stomach filled with swamp water, as I sat across from a guy I
effectively just dumped.

Because we were
alive, and all was well.

I went back to the house to pick up my things and to tell
Trent that everything with Aamir had been resolved. What I didn’t expect, was,
waiting for me on the porch was Allison, sitting on the old rocking chair with
a book in her lap.

“Hey,” I said, tentatively. I immediately became
self-conscious—Allison was the kind of girl you looked at and had no idea
what she was thinking.

She looked up, her cute, mousey features flat, expressing
nothing. She looked me up and down. Then finally, she opened her mouth.

“Lola isn’t a bad person, you know.”

I definitely was not expecting that. I nodded slowly. “I
know.” And though it would be easy for me to feel like she was a crazy bitch and
blame all of my problems on her, I knew it wouldn’t be right. I could feel her
inside of me. She was a person who hurt, and hurt a lot.

Allison nodded curtly and returned her gaze back to her book.
I went up to the door and raised my fist, feeling Trent’s presence inside.

“It’s open,” Allison said, her gaze still strictly on the
book in her lap.

“Oh, thanks,” I muttered, slightly uncomfortable. I opened
the door and walked straight to Trent’s room. He opened the door before I even
got to it.

“Look who it is,” he said with a wry, tired smile. I knew he
had stayed up all night: I could tell by his wrinkled shirt, tousled hair, and
bloodshot eyes. And yet, he still managed to look so
sexy
.

Some things in life just aren’t fair.

I threw my arms around him, pulling his body in a crushing
hug. He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me back tightly, the warmth
that flowed between us a perfect current of happiness.

“Where’s Lola?” I asked, quickly pulling away from him and
sensing her absence.

“Don’t worry, Mac took her to his office so he could keep an
eye on her. Nick’s there too. Since he’s a freelancer he’s working from there
and keeping an eye on her.”

I exhaled in relief and Trent gave me a tired smile. “You’re
really worried about her.”

“Yeah,” I admitted. “I don’t know, I felt so guilty about
everything with you and me and…I just know I hurt her. And it’s weird…but I
feel like she’s a part of me. Even if she hates me, it’s like we’re related,” I
muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed. But it felt strong, like I had known
her my whole life.

Trent nodded. “That’s just how it feels. And whether she
likes it or not, that’s how she feels about you. It makes her hatred for you
probably all the more complicated.”

Then I noticed a change in his demeanor, as if his thoughts
went somewhere else. “How was Aamir?” his tone was stiff, controlled. I
couldn’t help but laugh.

“Fine. He’s a very understanding guy. He said he could tell
that we’re supposed to be together.”

“God, there has to be something wrong with that guy,” Trent
muttered jealously, his strong jaw tensing in frustration.

“There is something wrong with him,” I said, sliding my
hands around his neck and pulling his face down towards mine, inching my lips
closer to his.

“He’s not you,” I whispered, and pressed my mouth onto his,
relishing into the hot feel of his mouth. He gripped his hands onto my thighs,
slowly running them upwards to meet at the back of my waist, his hands leaving
a hot trail even through my shirt.

I combed my fingers upwards through his dark hair, feeling
the force of his kiss as if for the first time, electric and explosive, like a
pyrotechnic show at a theme park.

And we kissed, long and slow, like we existed under water,
like the kiss would never end. It was like we extended into one another souls,
reaching into two bodies, dancing inside one another.

It was then that I really knew that I was his. And I would
be his forever.