Hurricane Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 1)

One step forward, two steps back.

I’d known we’d go through hell before we’d find our way back, but fuck, this shit was hard. Especially when he opened to me but then closed right back down. It was confusing, because I didn’t know what he wanted from me—space or no space.

So here I was making the kind of small talk strangers made, hating every minute of it.

“Yeah,” he answered my question.

I picked at my clothes, pulling stray hairs from my pants. “Yeah” didn’t really tell me much.

We sat in excruciating silence while waiting for Max to return. I almost pounced on him when he did, needing a friendly face, but I didn’t. I took the glass of wine he offered with a “Thanks,” and practically skulled half of it.

He’d just taken a seat when Melissa came in with a platter of dips and crackers. She placed it down on the coffee table without a word. As she tried to leave, Max reached for her. “Don’t worry about dinner just yet. Come and talk with us.”

The way she didn’t stiffen in his hold told me they’d done some serious talking since the last time I’d seen them. And the way she said softly, “I’ll just get the other platter and then I’ll be in,” confirmed it.

God, if they could get from where they’d been to where they appeared to be now, surely Winter and I had hope. But then, she probably hadn’t done anything near as bad as what I’d done.

After Melissa left, Max asked me, “What did you get up to today?”

“I went for a run and found a Pilates studio to take a class. Then a little retail therapy.” My sweet-as-pie smile was in direct contrast to my feelings on the inside. On the inside, I was screaming that I wanted to help them today. I wanted t

o be useful and give them the support and help I came to give.

Melissa returned with a platter of cheeses and set it down next to the other platter before taking a seat next to Max. Smiling tightly at Winter, she said, “Max told me you guys got everything moved to the storage unit. Thank you.”

Winter shifted in the seat next to me, his body tense. “I’ll head over there tomorrow to let the guy in who I’ve organised to clean the carpets, and then on Friday, the cleaners will be in. I’m going to get out into the garden tomorrow and give it a tidy up. The place should be ready to rent by next week.”

It concerned me how fast he and Max had moved on this job, but I figured it was the Morrison way—get shit done fast and don’t think too much about it. God forbid it might stir your emotions.

Fuck, I needed to shake off my shitty mood if I had any hope of making it through the night without getting into a fight with Winter.

Max picked up the conversation from there, discussing which real estate firm they would use to rent the house out. That conversation seemed to go on and on, and I tuned out. My senses were in overdrive sitting next to Winter, drinking wine from a glass that Max refilled twice before Melissa brought me back to the discussion.

“What have you been doing with yourself since we last saw you, Birdie?” she asked, her tone holding genuine interest.

The wine I’d drunk had gone straight to my head, loosening me up and pushing my taut edges away. Relaxing, I shifted in my seat, angling my body towards Winter while bringing my leg closest to him up and slipping my foot under my other leg. His gaze dropped to my knee that now rested on his thigh, but he didn’t react in any other way.

“I’ve gone into business with my best friend,” I said to Melissa. “We own a physiotherapist and Pilates studio. I’m a Pilates instructor now.”

“Oh, I remember how you used to do Pilates all the time. That’s great that you have your own studio.”

Goodness, Max must have really given her a good talking to.

Why is she being this nice?

Or maybe I’ve just drunk enough to think she’s being nice.

“What are you doing with yourself?” I can be nice too.

Her features tightened a little and she glanced at Max briefly. Weird. “Umm, I’m in between jobs at the moment, but I took a course a few years ago in bookkeeping, so that’s what I do now. I gave up retail after all those years. Best thing I ever did.”

“I bet,” I agreed. “I remember those long days you used to do.” God, kill me now. Before this superficial conversation does. Or before the fact Winter has barely responded to my leg resting on him does.

As I took the last sip of wine from my glass and eyed the bottle with the intention of getting a refill, Winter leaned in close and said quietly, “I think you need some water instead.”

My gaze snapped to his. “I don’t think I do.”

“Yeah, you do. I’ll get it.” He pushed my leg off his and made a move to stand, but I stopped him.