Page 151 of Finding Storm

Ice cream parlor—ruined forever.

Dad’s boat—hell might have to freeze over before I go on there again.

The room where Storm stayed—I’ve sealed it off.

Well, I haven’t actually because we can’t afford to lose the income on it, but Gran’s been cleaning it for me.

But I feel bad. She doesn’t need to be cleaning rooms at her age.

I just need to pull up my big-girl panties and get on with it.

Get on with my life.

Like Storm’s getting on with his.

Not that I know what he’s actually doing.

I’ll admit, I Googled his name to see if there was any recent news, but nothing new came up.

I know he doesn’t use social media much, but I checked Instagram too.

I know. I’ve turned into a total stalker.

But … I miss him.

I checked Slater Raze’s band page, but there were no new updates. Then, I checked his own personal page. Also nothing.

I don’t know whether to be relieved there are no updates or hate that there’s nothing to tell me what he’s doing in LA.

Without me.

But then, is this going to be my life now, stalking his Instagram for pictures of him?

And what about when he meets someone and moves on? Because, of course, he will. He’s gorgeous and funny and smart.

Honestly, I’m just trying not to think about that day.

After Josh cheated on me and I was heartbroken—which coincidentally feels minor in comparison to the way I feel over losing Storm, and that says a lot about Josh and my relationship—Gran said to me, “Stupid men lose smart women.”

And I let Storm go. I didn’t go with him. I said no to long-distance. I lost him. So, does that make me stupid? Quite likely. Men like him … what we had between us, come along once in a lifetime, and I didn’t even try to keep him.

I should have said yes to long-distance. I would have hated it. But at least I’d still have him. I’d be miserable, missing him. But I’m miserable, missing him now, without the option of being able to call or FaceTime him or know that I would be able to see him again at some point.

God, I’m a fucking idiot sometimes.

My fingers itch to call him. Tell him I was wrong. That I made a mistake. That we should do the long-distance thing.

But I’m scared. What if I call him up and he says he’s changed his mind? That the feelings he thought he had for me weren’t real? That, with this distance and time, he’s realized that?

I’d be crushed.

And I’d really rather not be crushed. So, here I am, stuck in a perpetual limbo of missing him and crying into my pillow every night.

I stand up and grab some shoes, slipping them on. I call to Gran, who’s in the kitchen, letting her know where I’m going, and I leave the B&B and walk in the direction of the garage.

It’s quiet when I get there, but I know Beck is inside, working.

I pop my head through the door. “Me,” I shout. “Just getting the keys.” I grab them off the hook just as Beck appears out of the office.