Beautiful Storm Read Online Free PDF Page A

the pint glass he’s staring at. He looks distracted and tired.
    I place my arm around his shoulder and lean in. “You look sleep deprived, mate.” I slap him on the back and pick up the pint, nodding in thanks.
    “I needed a drink,” he states.
    It’s unlike Bear to drink for the sake of it. That’s more my area of expertise. “What’s up?”
    He stands up straighter, and his gaze wanders to the dance floor, then back to me. “Nothing.” He shakes his head. “You ever have the feeling that… nah, forget it.” He takes a long swig of his pint.
    With my back now against the bar, I take in the view before me. I can say one thing for this place, there’re some shit-hot chicks here. Remaining quiet, I wait for Bear to finish what he was going to say. If I leave him long enough, it’ll come out. My attention is drawn by glimpses of exposed skin swaying on the dance floor.
    “Stupid question to ask the man that’s like a dog with two dicks, but have you ever had the feeling any of the women you’ve fucked could’ve been the one ?”
    For a fraction of a second longer, my gaze stays glued to the captivating view, while his words sink in. I swing my attention back to him. “You serious? Fucking hell, mate. She must have been good to get you this confused.” I smirk at him. “What did she have up there? Cosmic cock dust?”
    He gives me a half-hearted smile. “That’s what I get for asking you a serious question.”
    “Sorry, man. You threw me. It wasn’t what I expected.”
    “Well, are you going to answer the question?” He takes another sip of his beer.
    “No.” I shake my head. “That’s a ‘no’ to your first question.” I rotate the glass in my hands. “But you remember I had that interview for the magazine?”
    He laughs. “Yeah, Spud told me you took the lady out on your bike. What’s that all about?”
    “Fucked if I know. But she made me feel all sorts of shit, wrapped up tight against my back. My cock’s been nowhere near her. So, yeah, I can see where you’re coming from. Why?” I neglect to tell him I can’t even ride the fucking bike now.
    He rubs the back of his neck. “I hooked up with someone a couple of weeks back, and can’t get her out of my head.”
    I know the feeling well. Lizzie’s invaded mine for the last few weeks. I can’t figure out why she’s had this effect on me except I want to see the light burn in her eyes again, the way it did when she was with me. Not the dull eyes she left with. “You tried shagging someone else?”
    He gives me the ‘what do you take me for?’ look, both eyebrows raised, but remains silent.
    “Yeah, okay. You’ve tried.”
    He turns around and joins me with his back against the bar. His gaze sweeps the area. I sense him tense next to me, before he turns back around and beckons the barmaid, ordering two bottles of Peroni.
    “Is she here?” It’s the only explanation I can come up with for his unsettled behaviour. Even on the worst jobs, he’s the most relaxed bloke I’ve ever come across. And women are the only things that can fuck with a man’s mind.
    He nods without looking at me and takes a drink.
    “Oh, shit.”
    “You’ve got that right. Some bloke’s all over her and I’m this close”—he holds up his hand, forefinger and thumb virtually touching—“to ripping his fucking head off.”
    Fit chicks are plentiful here; there’s no way I’ll figure out who she is without asking, but if he wanted me to know he’d volunteer the information, which he hasn’t. “Do you want me to get in his way?” It’s the only offer I can think of to help.
    “What? And have her want to shag you? Cheers, mate, but I don’t think so.”
    In a childish act, I nudge his elbow just as he’s about to take a drink. It misses his mouth and splashes down his chin instead. He wipes the liquid away with his forearm before he swings his elbow back straight into my gut, winding me. At least it raises a laugh out of him when I