Hurricane Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 1)

“You dragged me out of it, wrapped me in your T-shirt and jacket, and threw me over your shoulder so you could carry me to the taxi. And you froze your ass off—”

I held her eyes. “Because I loved you and I would have done anything for you.” I paused, my fucking chest squeezing with love for her. “I still would.” I didn’t need to remind her of the long night of sex we’d had that night. It had been the kind of sex no one would ever forget. But then, we’d always had that kind.

She took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly before taking a sip of her drink. “What are you doing, Winter?”

“Remembering the good times we had.”

“Yeah well, they’re just memories now. Dragging them up only hurts.”

“So you don’t ever think about us? I call bullshit on that.”

“You can call bullshit all you like, but it’s been five years and I’ve moved on.”

“You’re dating someone at the moment?”

She tensed like she used to when she tried to evade my questions. “I’ve just started seeing someone.”

The idea of another man’s hands on her tore me up, but it wasn’t anything I hadn’t thought of over the last five years. I pushed my displeasure down deep, locked that shit up because it wouldn’t get me anywhere tonight. “So he means nothing to you yet is what you’re telling me.”

“No, Winter. What I’m telling you is that we’ve been out a few times and I like him.”

I’d really fucked up our relationship when I hadn’t listened to her needs all those years ago. She had never demanded I walk away from the military, but if I’d stopped for just one moment and seen her and the struggles she’d been going through, I would have left a helluva lot sooner. And we’d still be together today.

This dickhead she was seeing had fucking nothing on what I could give Birdie. We had history, and that had to count for something. I knew everything about her. That her favourite singer was Eminem and her favourite colour was pink; that she reserved Sundays for family and meal prep; that she organised her clothes for the entire week on a Sunday night; that she always fell asleep watching TV at night and never usually made it past 9:00 p.m. because she was always up at 4:30 a.m. to go running. I knew her heart, and who had trampled over it. And all the regrets she’d ever had.

I might not have known her for the last five years, but I knew more than this new asshole did.

“How’s your mum, Angel?”

Her eyes widened a smidge, and she gulped down her drink. Placing the empty glass down, she picked up her clutch. “We’ve had our drink, and now I’m going home. My mum is good and no, she doesn’t ask about you anymore.”

My lips twitched at the attitude she threw my way. It was a low blow, me asking about her mother. Jennifer had always loved me and had rooted for me after Birdie ended our relationship. She’d kept in touch with me for a long time, keeping me updated on her daughter and the fact she was still trying to make her see sense.

Didn’t hurt to remind her of my ties to her family, though. At this point, I’d use every weapon in my arsenal.

When she took a step away from me, I reached for her. The spark of our skin touching couldn’t be denied, not even by her. I saw

it in the flare of her eyes when they met mine again.

“You can run and you can try to hide, but eventually you will be mine again.” I leaned in close. “I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of the chase, just like I did the last time we played this game.”

3

BIRDIE

I’m never drinking again.

No, scratch that.

I’m never going out again.

Ever.

Guzzling some water, I stared out my kitchen window and contemplated the afternoon ahead. It was going to be long and painful if my family had anything to do with it, because any opportunity they got to grill me over my love life was painful. And when the reason we were getting together was to celebrate my brother’s engagement, it was the perfect chance for all of them to harass me over the fact I was thirty-three and nowhere close to being married. It was the kind of situation I would have really preferred to do without a hangover because the Beaumonts were relentless when it came to this stuff.

Bloody Winter.

This was all his fault.