Page 127 of The Storm

He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me. “No.”

“Blue,” I grit through my teeth.

He averts his eyes.

“Indy,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“My name,” he says. “It’s not Bl—it’s Indy.”

We stare at each other wordlessly. Both seemingly taken off guard by this reminder of who we are now.

“Indy,” I finally say. Even after all this time, it feels like I can’t make my mouth form the word.

There’s an invisible wall between us, and for once, I’m not the one who put it there.

The stubborn set of his jaw is back.

“It pays well,” he says. “And I need the money. And it’s actually none of your business.” He blows out a breath and drags his hand through his hair. “I’m gonna go. I think… I better go.”

Despite every instinct, I can’t force my eyes away from him. I can’t make myself leave.

He was my person. The one people search and long for.

The boy I loved.

And there’s the borderline irresistible urge to go to him, to wrap him up in my arms. It’s another phantom feeling. I shouldn’t want to do that. Absolutely I shouldn’t.

When we collided six years ago, it happened for a reason.

You can’t trust him.

He turns and walks away.

“Blue,” I call after him.

He stops, shoulders tensing, and slowly turns around to face me.

“You need to quit. Tonight. I’m serious.”

He tilts his head to the side.

Then he walks away.

Fuck.

FORTY

INDY

I slamthe apartment door shut behind me with so much force that the thump echoes all through the apartment.

You need to quit. Tonight. I’m serious.

He has no right to tell me what to do.

Six years.