Taming the Storm (The Storm, #3)

Demi Lovato’s “Heart Attack” starts to play loudly through the speakers.

With Tom in my mind and being aware of the fact that he is just across the room, I move back a little, leaving Robbi’s hand stranded midair.

He quickly retracts it, putting it around his bottle before holding it to his chest. A look of distress flickers across his face. “Have I moved too fast and scared you off?”

“No.” I shake my head. “It’s not that.” My eyes drift, and that’s when I see…Tom kissing Ashlee.

I feel like I’ve been slapped, punched, and kicked for good measure.

The music dulls to a painful throb in my head.

Everything has stopped. Time. My heart. Life. The earth spinning.

Jesus. This hurts.

Everything ceases to move, except for what is happening across from me right now.

He’s kissing her.

He’s actually kissing her.

And his hands are on her arms, holding her.

And he’s…kissing her.

Jesus.

I’m going to throw up.

Tears are burning my eyes, and a pain is scratching its way up my throat.

I know I have no right to feel this way. I pushed him away.

But that fact doesn’t make the pain any less.

“Lyla?” Robbi’s voice pulls me back.

My eyes meet his. I’m fairly sure he can see something in them.

Then, he says, “Tom…” He turns his head in the direction of where Tom and Ashlee are. “Are you two—”

“No.”

“I saw the video online, and you looked—”

“We looked nothing. The video was nothing. Just a bet.”

“Okay.” He smiles. “I’m glad to hear it.” He moves close again. “Really glad.”

I stare at Robbi. He’s sweet and good-looking, and he smells nice. Clean. Soap and aftershave. Like a man should smell.

Not as amazing as Tom smells, but that’s a good thing.

I don’t need anything resembling Tom right now. I need the exact opposite of him. Something to make the knowledge that he’s kissing Ashlee hurt less.

That’s why I lean into Robbi and tilt my face up to his, offering him my mouth, letting him know exactly what I want.

He smiles softly, his hands lifting to cup my face.

I close my eyes as he moves in.

The moment Robbi’s lips touch mine, I feel a sharp stab of guilt.

Ridiculous, right?

I feel guilty for kissing Robbi while Tom has his tongue stuck down Ashlee’s throat.

Ignoring the guilt, I push myself into the kiss, putting my hand around the back of Robbi’s neck, and I open up my mouth to him.

He seems to like that. I feel him smile against my lips, and then his tongue slips into my mouth.

It’s…nice. His kiss is slow, gentle. Nothing like Tom’s kisses. Robbi’s lips are surprisingly soft for a guy. Not like Tom’s lips, which are firm and delicious.

Stop thinking about Tom.

Robbi’s fingers thread through my hair, and he deepens the kiss.

This is a mistake.

No. This is good. Perfect. Robbi is great.

I shut my brain off and keep kissing him.

Then, out of nowhere, a prickly sensation creeps up my spine, and my Spidey sense has me suddenly stopping the kiss. I press a hand to Robbi’s chest, pushing him back.

He stares at me, breathing heavily. His lips are swollen with my red lipstick smeared across them.

“Wow,” he breathes.

I see a figure behind him, and suddenly, he’s wrenched away from me. Where Robbi was now stands a seriously pissed off Tom.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tom growls at me.

“Excuse me?” I blink.

His face darkens. “I said, what the fuck are you doing?”

I narrow my eyes at him, my hands going to my hips. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He scowls. “Making a fool out of yourself—that’s what this looks like.”

Well…that hurts.

Tears sting my eyes. My anger hits, full force.

“Fuck you!” I spit at him.

“Am I missing something here?” Robbi’s voice comes from behind Tom.

Tom’s head swivels around to Robbi. The look Tom gives Robbi would take down any man—quite possibly a polar bear, for that matter. Tom looks that scary.

“Yeah, your teeth, if you don’t walk the fuck away.”

Robbi looks past Tom to me, his eyes questioning.

Tom turns fully to face Robbi. “Don’t look at her. Look at me.” His voice is as hard as stone. “Whatever you thought might happen with Lyla isn’t happening. Ever. Do you read me?”

Robbi scowls and takes a step toward Tom. “And if I don’t read you? Then, what?”

Tom lets out a humorless laugh. He moves so close to Robbi that I would definitely call it an invasion of space.

It causes my heart to ramp up speed.

Tom leans down into Robbi’s face and says with intention, “You really should learn to close your dressing room door, Kraft. You don’t, and someone passing by could hear all kinds of things.”

I see something flash over Robbi’s face. Something I don’t like.

Tom straightens up. “Lyla is a no-go area for you. So, I’ll say it again. Do. You. Fucking. Read. Me?”

Samantha Towle's books