Page 16

Easton

W here the hell are they? I pace the hall near the front door, my body tense as I stew over what I’m going to do.

We agreed on seven p.m. How hard is it to make a fucking phone call and—

“They’re here,” Mom announces, confusing me.

“What do you mean, they’re here? I’m at the door.”

“Yes, but Macy doesn’t know what floor you live on; the concierge just called.”

“They did?” My gaze shifts to the intercom near where she’s standing and I frown. I didn’t hear it.

Mom hits me with an expression to match my own and steps closer. “Want me to go down?”

“No, I need to do it.” Mom scrunches her face, and I know what’s coming next so I get in first. “I’m not going to make a scene in front of Isaac. I know better than that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you would. I just think you need a second to—”

“Please don’t tell me to calm down. It’s eight p.m. and my son’s been missing with someone I trust less than a weather forecast. I’m allowed to be tense.”

“You’re right. You go down. They’ll be waiting.”

I stare at her for a few seconds before taking a deep breath in, rolling my shoulders, and releasing it, watching as Mom’s concerned expression morphs into a smile. “Better?” I ask.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“I’ll be back.”

The elevator ride is slower than usual, and I find myself wishing I had someone here to distract me. But Mom doesn’t need to get wrapped up in my drama, and Keeley left as soon as she got out of the pool. She didn’t even stay for dinner. Just used me for my facilities and disappeared. Which, honestly, was for the best. I don’t need her opinion on things with Macy.

The elevator stops on level six, and I glare as an old man takes his time getting in. Isaac spent the day with Macy. A few extra seconds isn’t going to make a difference to him, yet I’m anxious as hell. What if he hated it? What if she spent their time together the same way she spent our relationship—focused on herself—forcing him to tag along in his stroller.

When we finally reach the lobby, the deep breath I took to calm myself is a distant memory as the tension coils around my middle. If Isaac isn’t the happiest kid on the fucking planet when I see his face, I’m going to expect answers.

The doors open, and my heart stops until the crowd parts and Isaac’s eyes meet mine. His face lights up and he takes off in a run, almost knocking into a man that cut in front of him.

“ Daddy .”

I race forward to meet him halfway, lifting him into the air as he crashes into my arms. “Hey Buddy. Did you have a good day?”

“I had a chocolate petsel for dinner.” A chocolate pretzel? The fuck?

“You’re a lucky boy, aren’t you?” I smile through my anger. Macy only quit full-time motherhood a few months ago and she’s already forgotten how to do it.

Speaking of the devil, Macy joins us and hands over the stroller and Isaac’s backpack, greeting me with a wide smile, making me fight not to give her a piece of my mind.

“Macy.” I nod instead, my body tense from holding back.

“Easton. How was your luxurious day to yourself?”

My what? Clenching my fists, I smile at Isaac before letting it drop when I face her. “I had a busy day and I missed this little man. You’re late.”

“Relax. It was an hour. We were having fun. Weren’t we?”

Isaac nods but stays curled into my chest.

“Fun eating pretzels?”

“Yep. They’re delicious.” Macy laughs, and it pisses me off that she doesn’t even show an ounce of regret. She probably did it on purpose, knowing it would wind him up before bedtime.

“Okay. Well, are you ready to go up?” I move on, needing to get away from the woman that has the ability to drain the energy from my body—good and bad—with a simple look. I’ll tell you who has regrets. I do. I should have sought full custody the second she told me she didn’t want to be a mom instead of hoping she’d change her mind. I’m an idiot, but I can’t dwell on that now. “Nana’s waiting for you,” I add, a warmth spreading through me when Isaac’s eyes widen in happiness.

“Nana! Yes.” He spins around to face Macy and waves. “Bye, Mommy.”

I know I shouldn’t, but I take satisfaction in the fact that he seems more excited about my mom than he does about his own. Something she brought on all by herself.

I turn to walk away without acknowledging her any further, but she calls out to stop me. “I’m not sure when I’m visiting next, but I’ll call again in a week.”

Yay . How nice of you to keep your son hanging on when you truly couldn’t give a shit about him. “Thanks. Isaac will love that.”

Maybe I should have asked Mom to come down with me so she could have watched Isaac while I took a moment to set some ground rules with Macy. Like I’d originally planned. But I forgot when she was late. Now, I still have no idea what her angle is and— Shit .

“I need my card back.”

“What?”

“My credit card.”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” She reaches into her designer purse and reluctantly hands it over as though I’d gifted it to her and had suddenly changed my mind. But I’ve got news, Macy. That’s not how this works. Isaac gets my money, while you get fuck all if I can help it.

“Thanks.” She grins.

Without another word, I walk away again, holding my breath until we’re in the elevator, and it’s only then the stress finally eases.

“Are you tired?” I ask Isaac when he yawns.

“Nope.” He yawns again, making me smile.

“Okay, and you had a good day, right?”

“I told you,” he complains but he didn’t really—he only mentioned the pretzels—but as desperate as I am to know, I let it slide.

“I’m glad you had fun, but it’s good to have you back. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

We definitely go longer without seeing each other when I’m at away games, but this felt different and I’m not sure why.

“What do you say, you have a quick book with Nana and then it’s time for bed?”

“Two books?”

I stare at him deadpan and he laughs, knowing that’s my thing. “Fine. Two books. But they have to be short ones.”

“Okay, Daddy.” He curls into me again, resting his head on my shoulder, and I bask in the warmth until the negativity seeps into my mind. How the hell am I going to give this kid the life he deserves when I’m already failing? And what do I do about Macy?

M om’s on the couch watching the TV in silence when I walk out of Isaac’s room. I’ve barely made a sound when she looks up. “How’d you do?”

“He’s asleep. Finally . And it sounds like he had a good day.” I drop down onto the couch beside her and lie back, closing my eyes. After initially only talking about the food he ate, he finally opened up about the rest of his time. Macy took him to the zoo as planned, and they saw all his favorite animals. And mine. His little smile never left his face while he was talking. And while that should have made me happy, it broke my heart. Because how long does he have to wait until he sees her again? And does he make her as happy as she’s making him? He’s still bathing her in unconditional love, but is she giving it back?

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing,” Mom says, and I internally groan before opening my eyes to look at her, contemplating my response. I’ve just formulated a lie when she calls me out.

“Don’t even bother.”

“What?”

“If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but at least go for a walk or something. You’ll never sleep unless you get rid of all that built-up tension.”

An image of Paige works its way to the forefront of my mind, but I cut that shit off before it turns to a picture of her on her knees.

Mom’s right. I do need to let off some steam, but Paige is not an option anymore, plus… “Don’t you have to go?”

“Not yet.” Mom pats my leg. “I can wait until you get back.”

“Why don’t you stay? Please.” I always offer and she never says yes, but it’s getting later and—

“I’m not kicking you out of your bed. I’ve told you that.”

“I wasn’t offering my bed. I’ve got a perfectly good couch.”

She knows I’m joking, and yet, no matter what, she’ll say no. “Maybe some other time.”

“Okay, but I’m dropping Isaac at your place tomorrow. You’re not driving home just to come straight back in the morning.”

“Thank you. That would be helpful. Now go. You’re being nice, and that generally means you’re about to explode with anger. Get out of here before you do.”

I scoff “okay” even though she’s not wrong… I want to break something. And I don’t mean hearts and promises.

The season is about to begin. My life is about to be taken over with football, and this year, Isaac doesn’t have a mom to look after him. My mom is great, and so is Keeley, at times, but neither of them should have to take on that responsibility. So do I quit? Retire? Change careers for something less demanding? Something that keeps me at home more often. Or do I go against my mom’s wishes and hire a nanny like some of the guys do? I’m sure they’ve got recommendations.

Whatever I decide, it has to happen soon, because every day brings me a day closer to reality.

Taking Mom’s advice, I wander the streets of San Francisco, keeping my cap low and my eyes on the ground. The last thing I want to do is be recognized, and since our Super Bowl win last season, that’s happening a lot more often.

When I’ve been walking for the better part of an hour and my muscles hurt from how tightly they’re wound, I give in.

We have a preseason game at home tomorrow which always works to distract me, and then come Monday, I’ll kill myself at the gym. Something I once told Luke he shouldn’t do to forget his problems, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

A woman stares at me as I wait to cross the street on my way back home, and I offer her a tight-lipped smile before turning away to avoid her gaze.

There’s a newsstand in my line of sight, and seconds after I spot Zane on the cover of Sports Unlimited , my eyes lock on a magazine I’ve never seen before. Or more specifically, the woman on the cover.

Is that Paige?

The woman—Paige’s twin—is draped seductively in a bath with her hair falling strategically over her shoulders, covering her breasts. She’s not naked, but it’s easy to note that her white top is completely see-through based on the clear view I have of her skin. And I’m standing a few feet away. Imagine the detail when I’m up close.

I study the image before a thought hits me. Of course it’s Paige. That looks exactly like her bathroom, and she said she had a photo shoot when I saw her a few weeks back but— She’s wet and practically naked .

Someone knocks me from behind, snapping me back the present to find it’s my time to cross the street.

Only now I don’t want to. I can’t. Not until I know for sure.

Pulling my cap lower on my brow—as though that will make all the difference—I take a step closer to one of the few newsstands still in existence, and grab Zane’s sports magazine even though it pains me. I pretend to look at other items on the shelves—candy, cigarette lighters. I even risk drawing attention to myself by looking at a packet of football trading cards. But my gaze barely lingers more than a few seconds before it flits back to where it so desperately wants to go.

To Paige.

I need answers.

What kind of magazine is that?

Is she naked inside?

Do they sell those kinds of magazines right here on the street?

“She’s hot, right?” The guy working the store cuts into my thoughts, unwelcome. “You know, I think she lives near here. I swear I’ve seen her around. Although I’ve been staring at that cover for so long that maybe I’m imagining it.”

“What?” I snap. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be… Wait…you look familiar.”

I still, and the tension already coursing through me thickens.

“You’re that actor, right?” He snaps his fingers and I almost sigh in relief.

“That’s me. And I’m not in the mood. I’ll take this one.” I hold up the sports magazine still in my hand, and the guy fucking laughs.

“Yeah, okay.” He rolls his eyes and lifts Paige’s magazine off the stand. “Here, I know you want this one too. I’ll put it in a bag so your girlfriend doesn’t see it.” He puts on a voice and I almost deck him. What the fuck ?

“I want what I goddamn asked for. Nothing else.”

“ Jesus . Okay.” He takes Paige’s magazine out of the bag and grabs the cash from my hand, mumbling to himself about asshole actors.

And I instantly regret my outburst.

I want that magazine.

No, I need it.

But at the same time, I need to chill and walk away.

So what if it’s her. She can do whatever she likes. Paige is not my business.

At all.

So why do I care?