Read Online The Storm Inside by Alexis Anne - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alexis Anne
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around, drinking and talking smack.
Jake was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table playing Risk. He was having a great time. I was curled up on the couch behind him, watching while I read a book. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, not entirely unlike tonight, but he had on a baseball hat.
He was wearing it backwards.
His skin was tan, like it was now, and he was grinning. It had taken my breath away. He was so handsome and so happy that night. His eyes had been alive and his dimple… for that one night it seemed to be on his cheek permanently. All of his coloring was so perfectly in balance… he was perfect.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I tried desperately to memorize every single thing about him. And I had never forgotten. Not the sound of his voice, not the rumble of his laugh, not the way he looked at me.
I had never forgotten the moment he turned to me with those bright green eyes and I knew I was in love.
My whole body suddenly ached, as if it were crying out in mourning for that moment. It actually hurt. A real visceral feeling I could quantify. Love wasn’t just an emotion; it was a full body experience. One I was clearly not over.
I stayed on the edges watching Jake interact with our guests. They kept him busy for a full thirty minutes before we transitioned from appetizers to dinner. It was very casual; we ate in the living room around the coffee table. It kept the conversation flowing and casual.
Sharon and I were in a deep conversation about the merits of organic food when Jake came up alongside us. Every hair on my body stood straight up. Jake was like a lightning rod directing all the energy around us.
“The food is delicious, Eve. Did you cook?”
I smiled weakly up at him. My heart was racing uncontrollably. “Some. I made the chimichurri sauce.”
He nodded, his eyes drifting casually between Sharon and I, “It’s fantastic.”
“Thank you.” I said softly. Being near him was setting all of my senses on fire. Good and bad. Happy and sad. I was an emotional hurricane.
“Your mom’s house looks a little different. You’ve been busy.”
I took a deep breath and looked around the living room. I was so proud of my renovations. “It was a good way to keep me busy for a few years.”
He nodded thoughtfully, dropping his eyes and clearing his throat, “Yes, well, it’s amazing. I’m glad you’ve been able to keep it. I always felt like this house was yours.”
As strange as that sounded, I agreed completely. As a child visiting my grandparents here, I’d known this house would one day be mine. It felt like home every bit as much as the house I grew up in. My mom inherited it two years before I started college and with the little house on Davis Island’s so close to the University of South Florida, it was a no-brainer. Jennie had moved in with me, and a year later, Jake did too. Sylvia had lived with us one year, and a rotating list of our other friends over the years.
This house had always been the center of everything. And to a certain extent, it still was.
“Did you ever build your library?” he asked.
My heart skipped a beat. If there was anything I loved as much as Jake, it was my library.
I waved, “Follow me.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up and he fell in line behind me.
“I’m gonna get another plate,” Sharon called shaking her head. She knew better than to get between Jake and me.
I opened the door to a room that sat on the back of the house. The dark wood door matched the dark wood and brown leather of everything inside. On the right wall were tall dark bookshelves stuffed with books, knickknacks, and pictures. At the very top was a transom where light spilled in during the day. On the far wall was a bank of French doors that opened up onto my back porch. Above the French doors was another transom. I could pull the heavy dark red curtains and still have a delightful glow of daylight in my library. It was one of my favorite features.
The
Jake was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table playing Risk. He was having a great time. I was curled up on the couch behind him, watching while I read a book. He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, not entirely unlike tonight, but he had on a baseball hat.
He was wearing it backwards.
His skin was tan, like it was now, and he was grinning. It had taken my breath away. He was so handsome and so happy that night. His eyes had been alive and his dimple… for that one night it seemed to be on his cheek permanently. All of his coloring was so perfectly in balance… he was perfect.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I tried desperately to memorize every single thing about him. And I had never forgotten. Not the sound of his voice, not the rumble of his laugh, not the way he looked at me.
I had never forgotten the moment he turned to me with those bright green eyes and I knew I was in love.
My whole body suddenly ached, as if it were crying out in mourning for that moment. It actually hurt. A real visceral feeling I could quantify. Love wasn’t just an emotion; it was a full body experience. One I was clearly not over.
I stayed on the edges watching Jake interact with our guests. They kept him busy for a full thirty minutes before we transitioned from appetizers to dinner. It was very casual; we ate in the living room around the coffee table. It kept the conversation flowing and casual.
Sharon and I were in a deep conversation about the merits of organic food when Jake came up alongside us. Every hair on my body stood straight up. Jake was like a lightning rod directing all the energy around us.
“The food is delicious, Eve. Did you cook?”
I smiled weakly up at him. My heart was racing uncontrollably. “Some. I made the chimichurri sauce.”
He nodded, his eyes drifting casually between Sharon and I, “It’s fantastic.”
“Thank you.” I said softly. Being near him was setting all of my senses on fire. Good and bad. Happy and sad. I was an emotional hurricane.
“Your mom’s house looks a little different. You’ve been busy.”
I took a deep breath and looked around the living room. I was so proud of my renovations. “It was a good way to keep me busy for a few years.”
He nodded thoughtfully, dropping his eyes and clearing his throat, “Yes, well, it’s amazing. I’m glad you’ve been able to keep it. I always felt like this house was yours.”
As strange as that sounded, I agreed completely. As a child visiting my grandparents here, I’d known this house would one day be mine. It felt like home every bit as much as the house I grew up in. My mom inherited it two years before I started college and with the little house on Davis Island’s so close to the University of South Florida, it was a no-brainer. Jennie had moved in with me, and a year later, Jake did too. Sylvia had lived with us one year, and a rotating list of our other friends over the years.
This house had always been the center of everything. And to a certain extent, it still was.
“Did you ever build your library?” he asked.
My heart skipped a beat. If there was anything I loved as much as Jake, it was my library.
I waved, “Follow me.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up and he fell in line behind me.
“I’m gonna get another plate,” Sharon called shaking her head. She knew better than to get between Jake and me.
I opened the door to a room that sat on the back of the house. The dark wood door matched the dark wood and brown leather of everything inside. On the right wall were tall dark bookshelves stuffed with books, knickknacks, and pictures. At the very top was a transom where light spilled in during the day. On the far wall was a bank of French doors that opened up onto my back porch. Above the French doors was another transom. I could pull the heavy dark red curtains and still have a delightful glow of daylight in my library. It was one of my favorite features.
The
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