Ass in gear.
Clean clothes. Food. Not fucking up the morning after I finally got my head straight about Joey, after she’s finally admitted she wants me back.
Thankfully, there are no further hiccups as I accomplishthe first—taking a quick shower, throwing on a fresh shirt and pants.
The second part of that, though…
“You need to promise me something.”
I still, mid-load-up of my two plates at the breakfast buffet, and glance over at the kid who’s trying to murder me with his stare.
Considering I wanted to do the same thing to him yesterday, I clamp a lid on my temper.
“Storm,” I say quietly. “Good game last night.”
His expression doesn’t change in the least. “I need you to promise me something.”
I exhale silently, know that as much as I don’t want to have this conversation here and now—let alone anywhere orever—the kid clearly has something to say to me. “What do you need me to promise you?”
“You need to protect her.”
I blink. “Joey?”
His eyes flash. “Yeah, fucking Joey.”
“Look, kid?—”
“I’m not a fucking kid,” he snaps. “I’m old enough to know that what I want isn’t reciprocated. I get that. I’m not exactly cool with it, but I’m not one of those fucks who takes what he wants no matter if a woman wants it or not, so I’ll deal. But what I need fromyou”—he steps closer, voice dropping, threat laced through every syllable—“is for you to promise me that you’ll protect her, that you’ll look after her, that you’ll make sure she’s happy and loved and safe.”
The wordlovedsends a bolt of panic through me, but I shove it down enough to focus on the rest of his words.
“Because she deserves that much and more,” he says. “She deserves the world and—” He exhales sharply. “She deserves a man who can give that to her.”
“Storm,” I begin.
“Promise me, Damon.”
I settle a hand on his shoulder, hold tight when he goes to shake me off. “I know exactly how precious a gift I have, okay?”
He opens his mouth.
“So, I’m not going to squander it or throw it away.” My fingers flex. “But I can also promise you that I’ll look after her. That I’ll protect her and keep her safe and happy.”
His nostrils flare.
I shake him lightly. “Okay?”
He nods. “Okay.”
“Now, I need you to promisemesomething.”
His eyes hold mine, flaring with frustration, a muscle in his jaw ticking. But to his credit, he just blows out a breath then asks quietly, “What do you need me to promise you?”
“That you’ll start looking after yourself.” I drop my hand. “That you’ll start focusing on what youcanhave and then you’ll enjoy the fuck out of it.”
He’s still for a long moment.
Then he blows out another breath. But I don’t miss that it’s paired with his lips curving up, with amusement sliding into his eyes. “I can’t promise that.”
