Page 28

Paige

I ’m still reeling after signing on as one of the models for a huge runway event when my phone rings the next day. I pause my walk and smile when Hayley’s name pops up.

She kept the party going beyond the time I thought the charity event would be over on Saturday night, and I’ll forever be in her debt. People kept donating to the website we’d set up long into the early hours of the morning, and I’m certain that’s because they were still drinking and having fun. I know a little part of me should feel guilty that they donated under the influence of alcohol, but I don’t. They’re adults; they can make their own decisions.

But I am grateful that Hayley was there.

“Hayley, my angel. I’m so glad you called.”

“Hi Babe. I wanted to call Sunday but I wasn’t feeling that great. And yesterday I was at the studio for a meeting.”

“Ahh, the studio . I’ve had a lot of famous friends but none that have starred as my favorite character before.”

“Ugh. Stop with the pressure.”

“You love it.”

“I do. It keeps me honest.” There’s a smile in her voice and I’m about to laugh when she continues. “ But”— she trails off for dramatic effect—“I didn’t call to talk about me . I called to talk about you . Who was that guy following you around all night? He was dreamy.”

“Which guy?”

“Sorry, of course,” she says exaggeratedly, “there were so many.” Sarcasm oozes through the phone and I burst out laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just can’t remember anyone.”

“I thought you might say that considering you never once acknowledged him. And he was gorgeous.”

“I was busy.”

“I would have accepted that excuse for the first half of the night. But after the speeches, you were on the dance floor like the rest of us. And you iced him out.”

“What?” I huff out a laugh. “I don’t ice people out.”

“Okay, you didn’t do that, but you gave him nothing. Which left me wondering… Who’s the guy?”

“What?” I try my hardest to remember, but for the life of me, I’m drawing a blank. “I honestly have no idea who you’re talking about.” Was I really that oblivious to someone following me around?

“I meant… Who’s the guy occupying your mind?”

Oh. Dammit . “No one.” That I can tell you about. “I guess that because I haven’t been looking for anyone since my breakup with Christian, I didn’t realize anyone was there.”

“Hmm, okay. I’ll believe you for now. But we need to change that thought process. You can look for something that isn’t serious. Have some fun. But I will warn you, sometimes that leads to something more serious. Like when I told Amelia to sleep with the hot football player and she ended up pregnant and married.”

“That’s not going to be me. Moving on.”

Hayley laughs. “Okay. Were you serious about me being your date to your next charity event?”

“I was.” I almost squeal. “Are you saying yes?” Hayley and I got to talking after the ball finished the other night, and I mentioned I needed a plus-one for the event I’m hosting in a few weeks. It’s the same foundation I helped back in New York, so I wanted to continue supporting them.

Hayley had said she’d check dates when she got home, and I’d completely forgotten about it. I would have loved to invite Easton. But for one, it’s public, and two, it’s definitely not his thing. I’m actually surprised he came to the team event—grateful and satisfied—but surprised.

“You bet your ass I’m saying yes,” Hayley cuts into my thoughts. “You, Paigey, know how to put on an event.”

“I wasn’t as involved in the one coming up, but I think it will still be fun.”

“We’ll make it fun.”

I know she will—that's why I invited her. I can’t imagine she’d ever let things get boring, and we get along well. She doesn’t take life too seriously and I like that.

“Just tell me the details and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Hayley.”

“Don’t thank me. I should be thanking you. Open bar, hot men, a night of dancing. I can’t wait.”

We chat for a few more minutes and then she’s called away by one of the production assistants.

I’m in my head, imagining what life would be like as an actress when an alert goes off on my phone, making me freeze as I reach the front of my building. That annoying little chime means my name has been mentioned in the media, and while I’d love to think it has something to do with the Storm event, I have a feeling I’m not going to be that lucky.

Reluctantly, I check my phone, my breath caught in my throat.

New details have emerged surrounding billionaire Christian Mikkleson’s relationship with socialite and new heir to the San Francisco Storm football team, Paige D’Angelo.

Goddammit.

Sources say the two shared a sordid relationship of games and blackmail that often included other people. A friend close to the pair said the games started off as a bit of fun but Christian was left heartbroken after Paige took things too far. The ex-couple are yet to comment.

Yet to comment? No one fucking asked me.

I want to throw my phone but clench it tightly in my hand knowing my whole life is on this damn thing. And I know better than to shoot the messenger, even if it is a device.

Who the hell is my so-called “friend” and if he or she was a friend, why throw me under the bus like that? I never hurt Christian. He’s engaged, for God’s sake. He’s fine .

Needing to get to the bottom of this, I call the man himself, and he answers immediately, groaning by way of a hello.

It’s safe to say he saw it too.

“I know why you’re calling,” he snaps. “It wasn’t me.”

“It was your goddamn parents, wasn’t it?”

“Most likely. Which means it’s actually your fault.”

“How—”

“Tell me what you know, Paige. Or what they think you know, or they’re never going to stop, and I can’t help you.”

“I’m not the only one that looks bad in this scenario.”

“Really? Did we read the same headline? You took things too far, according to a source. My offer still stands. Meet me for lunch. Let’s show the world we’re united and that the rumors are just that—rumors.”

“No.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You need to control your parents, Christian. Because like I said, I have plenty to say and I’m not afraid to say it.”

“You’re just as bad as they are with the threats. I wish you’d both keep me out of it.”

And I wish you weren’t a naive piece of shit and that you actually paid attention to the crap going on in your own fucking organization… but here we are.

“Tell them to stop or I’ll release a tell-all. On them and you .”

I hang up before he finds out that my threat’s empty. I can’t say anything yet because it would just push his parents to hide evidence before I get any. At the moment, I’m a light threat to them. They know I overheard something, but Christian’s mom spilled a lot during that chat with her sister so they don’t know the full extent of what I heard. If I tell anyone before getting evidence, I become a bigger threat and I’ll admit, I’m worried about what they’ll do.

Between Christian and the article, I’m livid by the time I get in the elevator to my apartment. I need to vent, but I have no one I can talk to about any of this. Because no one will understand.

I still haven’t told my dad, even though I said I would. He’s got too much going on with his business back in New York and the team. I can’t add another layer to his stress. Not when I know he’ll put me first when he can’t afford to do that right now.

I pace the small space on the way to my floor, mumbling to myself as though that will solve all my problems, knowing without a doubt that it won’t.

I could call Austin, but all that would do is piss him off. He’s looking, and I need to give him time.

When the elevator stops on my level, I throw my head back and sigh. This is all I need. If they release the images along with that article, I’ll never live it down. Or worse, I could—

“Easton?”

I stop halfway out of the elevator, my eyes wide, to find Easton pacing the hall near my door, his cap pulled low on his brow, his muscles tense under his fitted tee.

He spins at the sound of my voice and pauses. “You’re home.”

“I am. And you’re here .”

“I am. I…” He trails off as I step out, motioning for me to walk to my door. And God, I hope that means he wants to come in.

“Do you…” I gesture inside when I’ve opened up. “I—”

“I can’t fucking do this,” he cuts in before I can ask my question, but makes his way into my apartment. “I know we have to be careful, for both our sakes, but this pretending bullshit is not for me. I don’t usually give a fuck what other people think, and if our situation was different, even if we were casual, I wouldn’t be worried about hiding it. Only it’s not just me anymore so we have to hide it. But I refuse to pretend I don’t want you. Not anymore. So here.”

He holds out a key and I still, my puzzled gaze lifting to his. “What’s this?”

“What does it look like?”

“A key, smartass. But what’s it for?”

“My apartment.”

“Your what?” My brows shoot up toward my hairline as I stare down at the key.

“My apartment,” he repeats. “I’m sick of leaving it to chance to see you.”

“Ah…we could start with phone numbers. This is—”

“I’m not asking you to move in. I just figured we needed another option instead of sex in a goddamn gym bathroom.”

Sucking my lips into my mouth, I picture said bathroom and giggle until another location comes to mind. “We also have a very public event full of almost everyone you know.”

Easton smirks and it hits me in the chest. Don’t get me wrong, I like my grumpy asshole, but when he smiles… God, he could melt the most impenetrable heart.

“Very funny. You know what I mean.”

“I do.” I smile until I think his offer through. “What about Isaac? What if he comes in one night or hears me?”

“Isaac spends Wednesday nights at my mom’s. I have a late meeting, but I want you there when I get home. Waiting for me.”

Jesus. Why is that so hot?

“How late is late?” I challenge him while my chest burns with excitement.

“I’m usually home by nine.”

“Oh, shame. I’m usually asleep by nine.”

“That’s fine by me, but I’ll be waking you with my tongue.”

My God, I love this man’s mouth. “Are you going to dictate what I’m wearing too?”

“If you’re wearing anything , I’ll be disappointed.”

I smile though I don’t think he’s joking. At all. And I kind of like that. Plus, it’s Wednesday today and I could definitely use some time together.

“So you trust me with the key to your family home?”

“Is that your way of saying that I shouldn’t?” He bites back another smile and I laugh. At least, I do until the gossip article reminds me that I shouldn’t.

“The media have been saying some things about me,” I say, deciding to give him a reason to trust me, by being open.

“I don’t care for gossip.”

“Some of it’s true.”

His eyes briefly widen before he schools his features. “Will it hurt Isaac?”

“No, I don’t think so. They’re just words. About me. And I’d never let that happen. But it’s not very nice and—”

Easton steps forward, his fists clenched. “Did it hurt you ?”

My heart slams in my chest at his protective stance, his penetrating gaze a force against my need to put him at ease. But I win.

“I’m fine,” I lie. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” So what if it ruins my reputation and makes me look like the bad guy. There are more important things in life, right?

Easton continues his visual standoff, trying to catch me in a lie, and I stare right back before raising an eyebrow as I smirk. “I promise.”

I should be used to this by now, but I’ve worked hard to give myself a good name. I grew up in the public eye. Everything I do, say, or wear has been curated to portray the life I want people to see. Or the life my mom wanted people to see.

What they’re saying now may not align with that version of me, but it’s also not exactly a lie, apart from the reports that I hurt Christian.

“Do you want to know what’s being said?” I ask hesitantly, not entirely sure what to say.

“Do I need to?” Easton’s response catches me off guard, and I open my mouth to question him but he cuts me off. “I mean, if you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen, but if you don’t want me to know…”

He trails off and I suddenly want him to know everything, but I can’t because something tells me he’ll fight for me and that’s not going to end well. So instead I give him what I can.

“My ex and I used to play games in our relationship. We’d make each other jealous, use people to get the other excited. I’m not ashamed that it happened, but I’m not thrilled it came out. It’s my personal business and shouldn’t have been shared with the masses.”

“ Jesus . Was it your ex?” His expression turns dark, and I almost say yes to see what he’d do to Christian. I’ve never had someone in my life that wants to hurt someone else on my behalf, and Easton’s face is screaming “let me at him.”

“It wasn’t him. He didn’t want that part of our lives to come out any more than I did. He’s engaged and trying to move on.”

“Do you know who?”

I shake my head to stop myself from verbally lying to him. It’s better if he doesn’t know the answer to that question. I need to keep him as far away from this as possible.

Easton nods, but the tension remains in his shoulders. “Is that something you like? The games.”

“No.” I’m quick to cut him off, the thought of him flirting with someone else making me ragey. “That was the way my ex and I worked. It’s not something I’ve ever sought out with anyone else, and I definitely don’t want that with you.”

“Okay.”

“Wait. I’m not explaining myself properly.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but I think that came out wrong. It’s not that I don’t want that with you. I don’t need it. Christian and I made each other jealous to increase the desire. That’s not a problem that you and I have.”

“I see.” Easton’s blank expression gives nothing away, and my heart lodges in my throat. Was I an idiot for being honest with him?

“Easton, I—”

The smallest of smirks tugs at his lips and I’m dead. Someone needs to pick me up from the floor because my God , this man. “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” He shakes his head. “ Entirely . I just like seeing you a little flustered for me. But don’t get me wrong. I’m happy you said no, because I don’t want to play games. I just want to fuck you whenever I want to. And if that fails, I want Wednesday nights.”

God, I want that too. “Do you think one night a week will be enough?” I tease. It’s certainly more than I’ve been getting lately.

Easton growls in the back of his throat and my legs clench. “It will never be enough, but it’s all I’ve got.”

“I’ll take it. But I’m not at your beck and call. If I’m there, I’m there. If I’m not, I’m not.” I stand firm, but as if I’m not going to be there, knowing this incredible man is coming home to me.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, Paige. Take the key. Do with it what you will.”

He turns to walk away and a little part of me panics. “You’re going?”

“I told you; I have a late meeting Wednesday night.”

“That’s right, you did. I guess I’ll see you around.”

“You will.” He opens my apartment door while I put the key down on my kitchen counter, contemplating what to do with it.

“Oh, and Paige…”

“Yes.” I glance up to find Easton standing on the threshold, his arms crossed as he leans casually against the door, holding it open, watching me.

“You’re not fooling anyone, and if I ever find out who shared your private life with the media, I’m going to destroy them.”

My breath hitches at the intensity in his gaze. “But Isaac,” I whisper, stunned. I don’t know why I said that, but I needed to take the focus off me.

“I never said I’d use my bare hands. There are other ways of destroying a person.”

He turns again but I stop him this time, suddenly needing a way to connect with him.

“Can I have your number?” I ask in a rush, holding out my phone. “You know, in case I’m in your apartment and need to reach you.”

“Sure.” He frowns, his brows creasing. “You didn’t have to justify it.”

“Good.” I hand over my cell and he enters his number before calling himself so that he has mine. And while that’s generally not a big deal, something shifts inside me as I watch him walk away, my heart pounding in my chest.

I think I like him more than I should.