Page 63 of Finding Storm

She likes me.

I can’t believe how fucking jacked up that makes me feel.

Even drugs haven’t gotten me this high before.

I reach the bottom step to see Stevie talking to a familiar-looking woman. Older and glamorous in a pantsuit, pearls, perfectly styled blonde hair.

The woman looks at me, and recognition sparks in her eyes. “I know you.” She points a polished fingernail at me. “Shirtless boy from the gas station.” She clicks her finger against her thumb.

A grin takes over my face, and I point a finger back at her. “Winking lady who ogled me in the gas station.”

She laughs. “Guilty as charged.”

“You’ve already met?” Stevie asks, sounding bemused at our exchange.

“Not officially,” the woman says, turning to Stevie. “I was filling up my car when this young man decided to do a striptease at the gas station. Of course, I had to watch the show. Would have been rude not to.”

I have to stop myself from laughing at her word choice, considering, not a minute ago, Stevie thought I was a stripper.

“Oh, that’s when you spilled coffee on yourself,” Stevie says to me, connecting the dots. “Well, Nick Slater, coffee-spiller and shirt-remover, meet my gran, Stella Cavalli, bare-chest-ogler and serial-winker and the owner of this fine establishment.”

Stevie’s introduction makes me smile. She’s so damn goofy. And I like it so damn much.

“Nice to officially meet you, Mrs. Cavalli,” I say, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Call me Stella. I hear Mrs. Cavalli, and I think of my late-husband’s mother. That woman was a dragon. God rest her soul.”

I chuckle. Stella is quite the character, this one. It’s clear where Stevie gets it from.

“Gran, Nick is going to be staying with us until his car is fixed. I put him in Bayview.”

“My car broke down after I saw you at the garage,” I explain.

“He put the wrong fuel in,” Stevie helpfully tells her. “Beck asked me to go tow him.”

“Ooh, rookie error.” Stella laughs. “Well, your car is in good hands with my son and grandson. So, what are you both up to now?”

“I offered to take Nick to the store,” Stevie explains to her. “He needs some essentials.”

“Oh, will you get me some hairspray while you’re there?” Stella asks her.

“Of course. The usual brand?”

“Yes.”

“Let me get my purse.”

She reaches for her bag, hanging on her arm.

“Don’t worry, Gran. I got it,” Stevie says, stopping her.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re a good girl,” Stella says to Stevie, tucking a stray lock of Stevie’s blonde hair behind her ear.

I see in this moment how much Stevie looks like her grandmother.