Page 1 of Weather the Storm
Chapter One
SIMON
Super Bowl Sunday—one of the best days of the year, in my humble opinion. Regardless of the teams playing—although some arefarsuperior to others—Go Eagles!—the commercials alone are gold, and it’s usually a good matchup. Add in some bomb-ass food and my friends, and like I said, it’s one of the best days of the year.
On top of that, this particular Super Bowl Sunday is even better than the ones before it because a certain beautiful blonde will be joining us. My, oh my, there’s just something about Miss Magnolia that really gets my blood pumping.
It’s not just her body, though standing at five-seven with a year-round tan, eyes like a pool, and long, blonde hair I’d love to see fanned out across my pillow, she doesn’t hurt the eyes. She’s mysterious, soft-spoken, and shy. She’s an enigma, and I want to know more—I need to.
Drinks in hand, I make my way from the kitchen to the living room, where Drake is kicked back in my favorite recliner—such an asshole—talking to our other buddy, Cash Carson, about his Valentine’s Day plans with his girlfriend, Azalea.
Cash is married to my neighbor and honorary little sister, Myla Rose. I’ve known her since the day she moved in next door with her Grams when she was eight and I was eleven. She was so tiny, but so damn fierce, and we were instant friends.
Cash and I, though, that’s a whole different story. We got off to a rocky start after all the shit he and Myles went through, but they beat the odds, and turns out he’s an all-right guy—a good man for Myla and her sweet baby boy, a good friend, and a damn good carpenter.
Stepping down into the living room, I offer Drake one of the beers in my hand and the Coke I have to Cash. “Y’all gonna sit around and gossip all day, or are we gonna watch some football?” I ask, just to rile them up.
Cash gives me a good old-fashioned eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, shut it.”
“I’m for real, though. Y’all’re sitting around like a bunch of girls yappin’ about your V-Day plans. Hell, listening to you two, you’d think the girls were here already.” I hardly mean what I’m saying, but it’s too easy to mess with them.
Looking smug as shit, Drake cuts his eyes to me. “Just you wait. One day, you’ll be just as damn sappy as I am with Azalea. You know what they say—the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
Without meaning to, I bark out a laugh, letting his words roll off my back. These guys live to give me shit about finding love. Little do they know, I’ve had my eye on little Miss Magnolia for a while now. I can tell she’s been hurt; she’s always so nervous and shy, trying to make sure she never stands out, but my God…whether she wants to or not, she shines.
We’re thirty minutes from kickoff when Myla Rose flies through the front door like she owns the place, baby Brody cradled in her arms and Azalea hot on her heels.
Just like Myla Rose and I have always been friends, she and Azalea have as well. Now, they co-own a salon—Southern Roots—together, where Miss Magnolia just happens to be the new stylist.
Cash stands and heads for his wife and son while Azzy heads straight for Drake.
“Where’s Magnolia?” I ask, right as the ungodly sound of metal crushing metal ricochets through the house. Bolting from the couch, I sprint toward the front door, the rest of the group following after me. “The hell was that?”
I rip the front door open, slamming it into the wall hard enough to shake the frame, bringing myself face-to-face with Seraphine, Magnolia’s cousin.
“Simon!” Seraphine screams when she sees me, her voice shrill and terror-stricken. “O-oh my God, help! I called 911, but I need…she’s…stuck. It was an accident…” Her words come out garbled and damn near unintelligible, the panic written clearly across her face.
“What? What was an accident?” I ask, stepping around Seraphine, my heart beating a staccato rhythm in my chest. From the edge of the top step, I can just make out Magnolia’s little Honda crunched like a tin can into the bed of my truck.Fuck.
Without any thought or hesitation, I take off at a full run toward her, my momentum so strong I all but skid into her door.
“What the hell? Is she okay?” Drake asks, worry coloring his tone. I hadn’t even realized he was following me.
“I don’t know! Her forehead’s bleeding but I can’t get her door open,” I yell, yanking on the destroyed metal with every ounce of strength I possess.
I hardly notice as Seraphine cautiously approaches us. “I followed her here, since she’s not the best driver. I’m not sure what happened…it’s almost like she missed the brake and hit the gas instead. Is she okay?”
Defeated, I step back from the car, tugging on the ends of my too-long hair. “I…I don’t know.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when the sound of sirens fills the air, their flashing lights bathing my yard in blue and red.
Drake, Seraphine, and I stand helplessly off to the side while emergency workers cut away the door to Magnolia’s car. Frozen and silent, we watch as they transfer her from the car directly onto a backboard.
Magnolia’s smooth, tan skin is marred with dust from the airbag, and a cut runs along the front of her hairline. “I-I’m fine,” she croaks out.
At the sound of her voice, full of pain, I rush to her side. “Bet you wish you’d taken me up on those driving lessons, huh, Goldilocks?”
She tries to smile, but it’s really more of a grimace, and the effort sends her unshed tears spilling down her cheeks, washing a path through the grit on her face. “A-are you m-mad at me?”
