Page 55 of Finding Storm

If only everyone could be like that, the world would be a much better place.

There is nothing fake about Stevie. She’s as real as it gets.

Some women think that men want the fantasy when all we really want is reality.

An honest-to-God real woman.

And Stevie is reality. She’s quirky. She’s fun. She’s a breath of fresh fucking air.

And the fact that she’s hot as fuck is an absolute bonus.

I could not only stare at her all day, but I could spend my day talking to her too.

I’ve never experienced that really with anyone before. And I ain’t sad that I’m going to have to hang around here while my baby gets fixed because it means I get to spend more time around Stevie. And feel this sense of freedom I’ve felt since the moment I met her, realizing that she has no clue who I am.

When she got out of that truck and walked over to me, I braced myself for it. The recognition. The excited giggle. Asking for a selfie with me. Probably asking me to sign her tits. And then she would subsequently hit on me.

That’s the way it always happens.

But when Stevie looked at me, there was no recognition. She definitely liked what she was looking at. I saw the flicker of interest in her eyes before she quickly squashed it. But the interest wasn’t because I was Storm Slater.

It was because she genuinely liked the way I looked.

Can’t blame the girl.

But in that moment of realization where she had no clue who I was, I felt this weight leave my shoulders.

I felt light.

And when she started giving me shit about the cigarette butt, I’d never had that much fun in ages.

How fucking pathetic is that?

A pretty girl giving me a hard time is fun.

But she wasn’t making it easy for me.

When you live your life around easy girls, willing to give you anything, meeting one who doesn’t is refreshing.

I just didn’t want that to change. So, when she asked my name, I lied.

Well, it’s not a total lie. My middle name is Nicholas.

When I was younger, around six or seven, a kid from school made fun of my name. Said it was stupid. So, I went home and told my mom I was changing my name to Nick. I made her call me it for a month solid.

Until I realized that kid from school was a little prick and I didn’t actually care what he thought of my name.

The likelihood of Stevie even knowing who I am or even caring who I am seems small. The girl said herself she isn’t interested in music outside of the eighties.

But I just didn’t want to take that chance.

I just don’t want the way she treats me to change.

People have a tendency to act differently around celebrities. If someone finds out that you’re famous, they treat you differently. It’s just a fact.

It’s the disease of the modern human condition called celebrity.

When she mentioned having a brother, I did worry he might know who I was and call me out on it, but he didn’t seem to know me either.