Page 7 of Delicate Storm

My response catches him off guard, and I hold my breath as his lips curl into a genuine smile.Yes. I knew I could do it. Biting back my victorious laugh, I raise a brow and wait for his response.

“A truck? Was that in a controlled environment? Or did you take a baseball bat to an ex’s pride and joy?”

I burst out laughing until the image of that works its way into my mind and my happiness fades.If only.

“I wish it was option B. God knows he deserves it. But alas,”—I put on a grin—“it was option A. And let me tell you, it’s incredibly satisfying. But I guess you know that already. What did you destroy? Do you have any photos?”

“Photos?”

“Of your wake of destruction?”

“Ah. No. I’m not really a photo guy. Doyouhave photos?”

“Of the truck? Definitely. Loads of them. Sometimes I look at them to remember that high. It’s only second to…” I trail off. While it doesn’t seem like the gorgeous man beside me has any idea who I am, I’d prefer not to get too personal. Instead, my gaze moves to the food cart as it makes its way toward us. “Thank God. I’m starving. What about you? I’ll bet, being the big guy that you are, you’re always hungry. Am I right?” He stares at me like I’m crazy, and I’m confused until I replay what I said, barking out a laugh. “Never mind. I didn’t mean that as a negative—”

“It’s fine.” He reaches out toward me but then seemingly changes his mind. “I didn’t take it the wrong way. And you’re right. I’m often hungry.”

“Good. How about I grab us lunch?” I joke, bouncing my eyebrows, hoping for another smile. But instead, I get a quasi-nod snort huff thing which I think might be a suppressed laugh. Either way, I take it as a win.

CHAPTER TWO

Easton

The woman beside me beams when I huff out a laugh, and I have to give it to her—she’s a little funny.Annoying, but funny.If she’s aware of my lack of interest in our conversation, or conversation in general, she’s completely ignoring it. Though I doubt she’s that oblivious. I’m not exactly subtle when it comes to that.

She keeps talking, her confident smile back in place now that we’ve moved on from whatever topic she was avoiding, and when it’s time for our meals, she pauses only long enough for the attendant to offer us a drink and then her mouth is moving again.

A mouth I’ve found myself drawn to one too many times already. I can’t help it; she has a perfect little pout.

“Did you do anything else while in Scotland?” she asks, her voice light. “Or was the trip purely for destruction purposes? What did you destroy, by the way? I don’t think we established that.”

Nope, we didn’t because I don’t want to talk about it.

“I had no other plans. The trip was purely for destruction purposes and it was a castle.”

She gasps. “A cast—”

“Before you lecture me. It wasn’t some old relic. Well, it was. But I helped with some demolition so they’d be able to do a rebuild and—”

Jesus. Why am I justifying myself?

“And?”

“That was it. Period.”

“So you just needed the release?”

“Something like that.”Moving on.

The last thing I want to do is rehash how fucked-up my last few months have been. She’s a stranger. She doesn’t need to hear about my teammate sleeping with my girlfriend, Macy, the mother of my three-year-old child. Or that before that, we’d barely spoken in weeks, with her checking out of the relationship earlier than that.

This stranger doesn’t need to hear that I got my first official warning for attempting to “beat the shit” out of said teammate in the locker room after my ex decided to tell me about her tryst…in detail. Or that my problems were then fed to the public via a TV series showcasing my football team during the biggest year of our careers, when I didn’t even want to be a part of it.

Last, she doesn’t need to know that instead of facing my issues head-on, I’ve spent the past week hiding away, shirking all responsibility.

For nothing.

My beautiful stranger may have been right. The release of endorphinswasmomentarily freeing, and the rush intoxicating. But the second I boarded my flight home, the feeling was gone. I don’t need to talk through it; I need to let go.

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