Page 6

Easton

I stand frozen as the woman from the plane jogs over, her expression full of excitement. “You turned?” she asks, the surprise in her voice mimicking my thoughts.

I did turn. But why? I have no idea, because… “You called me window-seat guy?” It’s like I recognized her voice.

“Yep. That’s my name for you.” She beams and if I was any other human, I’m sure it would be infectious. “Got a problem with it?” She raises an eyebrow and pops her hip, making my lips twitch. But I don’t smile.

“Would it matter?”

“Nope. I like it so it’s going to stick until you give me something else to call you. Anywho… What brings you here?” She bites her lip and it’s not my mouth that twitches this time. It’s been a while for me, and my cock is in need of some attention. Attention it’s not getting from a stranger I met on a plane. “Were you looking for me?” she adds.

“What?” I snap out of my thoughts and frown. “Why would I be looking—”

“I’m joking. Since you have bags of food in your hands, I’m guessing you either live here or you’re visiting someone. Someone that is not me.”

“Good guess.”

“You’re not going to tell me which one, are you?”

“Nope.” Though I am curious as to why she’s here.

“Okay. Well, I live here.” She laughs, answering my silent question and what the hell are the chances? “I’m on the twelfth floor,” she continues. “I just moved. Sort of. It’s a beautiful building. Don’t you think?”

“It’s alright. I guess. Anywho…” I use her term though my tone is significantly less peppy than hers. “I need to get this upstairs.” I point toward the elevator and fake a grin. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Paige,” she offers.

I didn’t ask, but… “Paige. Nice seeing you again, Paige .”

The doors open and I move to step into the elevator, hoping to get away, but when she follows, I stop, an awkward tension settling between us. I stare her way and she raises her hands into the air. “I’m not following you. I was going out for cookies but then there was a creepy guy following me so I thought I should go home. I live here. Remember?”

“Yep. I do.” And now I’m stuck on the creepy guy following her. Is the fucker still here? I glance over my shoulder, searching, and completely forget she’s still standing in front of me until she speaks.

“Are you looking for him?”

“What?”

“The creepy guy. Are you looking for him?”

“No,” I lie, my eyes drifting back to hers, finding her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she bites back a smile.

“Okay.” She nods. “My mistake. But ooooh… I almost forgot.” She does that finger gun motion as her smile widens. “I owe you a drink.”

“What?” I’m getting whiplash with the way this conversation is changing. “Why?”

“For helping me.”

“When did I help you?”

“On the plane, you came to my rescue with that jerk in my seat, and then again just now.”

“I didn’t—”

“Believe me, you did. So drink?”

Like always, the answer no pops into my head so fast you’d think I’d set it as a default response. But unlike other times, today my thoughts go to war. Why not have a drink? Isaac’s usually asleep by now and… Isaac…that’s why. My life is complicated enough and I’m playing catch-up. But it’s just a drink. A thank you drink. Why am I making a big deal out of this? She might be one of those people that always needs to settle debts. I know I am. I hate the thought of owing people. But in this situation, that’s a her problem, not a me problem. Plus I do have food in my hands. No. It’s a no.

Decision made.

“I have to get this upstairs.” I subtly nod toward the elevator. “Maybe another time?” Maybe another time? What time? I barely have time to scratch myself.

“Another time it is. I’ll hold you to that. I’m sure we’ll run into each other around the building, since we both live here.” Her eyes widen while my brows furrow. Maybe I should have said yes and gotten it over with. It's too late now.

“I’m sure we will.”

“I knew it !” Paige fists pumps the air and smiles brightly, confusing the hell out of me. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You weren’t going to tell me if you lived here or not, remember?”

Releasing an exasperated laugh, I shake my head. I wasn’t going to tell anyone I lived here. It’s supposed to be short-term, but it’s now week four and I’ve yet to decide what the hell to do next. I want to find a house and give Isaac a solid base, but I don’t want to rush it. Right now, all my decisions are coming from a place of panic, and I can’t afford to put housing into that mix.

Paige stares at me in anticipation and my shoulders drop. “Well done,” I deadpan. “Great detective work. You win.”

She bites back a smirk and raises a single brow, trying not to laugh. “Was that a joke? Mr…”

“Window-Seat Guy.”

Her jaw drops before she bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but smile. Who the hell am I?

“Window-seat guy… I can’t wait for that drink. You have layers. I like it.”

“Good to know.”

“Alright. I won’t keep you any longer. See you around.”

She lifts her hand in a wave as though she didn’t just tell me some guy was stalking her and is expecting me to walk away. I’m not.

I fold my arms over my chest and stare at her, waiting for her to catch up.

“What’s going on right now?” she asks, pointing to my tense stance. “What are you doing?”

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

I tilt my head and raise my brows. “Get in the elevator. You were going home, remember?”

“I—” She cuts herself off and nods before moving past me to press the button. “Of course. Let’s go.”

When the doors open for a second time, I gesture for her to go first, and this time, instead of hitting me with her usual bright over-the-top grin, she smiles shyly and thanks me under her breath.

“No problem.” I nod, forcing myself to look away when a tightness fills my chest. I’ve got enough on my plate; I don’t need to start worrying about a stranger too.

We’re both silent as we travel toward our floors, and when the elevator stops on level twelve, I cut in before she can thank me again, needing to change the weird tension that’s settled between us.

“I guess you owe me another drink now,” I say, keeping a straight face.

Thankfully she laughs.

I text my mom when I’m in front of my apartment asking if it’s safe to come in. It’s after Isaac’s bedtime, so if I go inside and he’s not quite asleep, she’ll kill me for making him excited. I hate not seeing him, but at the same time, I know it’s important to give him a proper routine when everything else in his life is up in the air.

Like our goddamn living arrangements. I don’t want him to get used to this apartment, but at the same time, I don’t know where I want to live. My old house is a no-go zone now that I know it was ruined by Macy, and if I’m honest, even the neighborhood’s a little tainted.

Especially considering I’ve since discovered she slept with one of our neighbors as well. Three guys and counting. Something I wish I’d known before giving her an ultimatum. Because she goddamn fulfilled it, calling Isaac the next day. And now instead of having her out of our lives for good, she’s stringing him along, when we both know she’s not in it for the long run.

But what do I do? She’s his mom and clearly going through something. So, while I refuse to help her, I can’t exactly cut her off completely. Isaac loves her.

It’s a catch-22. I don’t want to hurt him by pushing his mom out of his life, but by keeping her around, it’s setting him up for devastation.

I need to focus my energy, but at the moment, I’m spending all my time just staying afloat.

My phone buzzes, and I’m thankful I didn’t have to wait long for my mom to text back.

Mom: You’re safe. He’s asleep

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and smile when her weary eyes meet mine. “How was he?”

“We had a good day. He only asked about the witch once.”

“ Mom .”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. I don’t call her that in front of Isaac, but I’m not holding back when it comes to you.”

“Fair enough.” He’d been asking about her a little less every day, but it only takes one call and she’s back in his orbit again. God, I wish I knew what was best for him. “Did he ask about me?”

“No.”

I frown and she laughs. “But he did talk about you nonstop. You’re definitely his favorite person.”

“Feeling is mutual.” I smile as my heart pounds in my chest. In Isaac’s mind, I’m a hero. In my mind, it’s a very different story, but I’m working on it. “Anyway, how are you feeling?” I ask. She was more tired than usual when she arrived this morning, and I know it’s because I’m asking for too much. “Are you ready for me to get a nanny yet?”

“Never. I told you that. In a few years, Isaac won't want anything to do with his Nana. I’m cashing in on it now. While I can.”

“You’d tell me if it was getting hard though, right?”

“Probably not.”

“ Mom .”

“What? You need me. I’m here. It’s what moms do.”

My mind conjures up an image of Macy and I huff out a laugh. “Not all moms. Some leave the state.”

Mom’s face drops and she walks over, pulling me into a hug that I don’t reciprocate. I don’t need sympathy; I need to sort my life out.

“It’s going to be okay, East. I promise it will all work out.”

Mom leaves not long after our chat, and it seems like barely any time has passed before she’s back the next day, ready to help out again.

Since it’s preseason, I have a little more time on my hands, but I know once the season begins, something has to change. I can’t expect her to keep driving across town every day to help out.

“I’ve been thinking,” she says after breakfast when Isaac’s out of earshot. “Since Wednesday seems to be late for you and Thursdays are usually early, what if Isaac comes to my place on Wednesday for a sleepover each week? It will give you time to yourself and save me on travel.”

My eyes flash to Isaac as he crashes two wooden trucks into each other and my chest tightens. It makes sense to help Mom out but… “I don’t need time to myself.”

Mom’s brows furrow and she frowns. “You’ve never been a good liar.”

“I know.” I sigh. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to stay away from him. I already miss out on seeing him during away games. But I can drive him to your place more. That’s not an issue.”

“What about we try it next week? It might be good for all involved.”

“Go! Go! Go!” Isaac calls out as two of his trucks race across the floorboards, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“It would be good for him to have a bit more space. And a yard to run around in.”

I grew up on a decent-sized property in North Carolina, with lots of space to run around. Without it, I probably wouldn’t be the football player I am today. When I paid for Mom to move here a few years ago, I insisted she have a yard, despite her arguments. I thought she’d regret it if she had grandchildren and nowhere for them to play. I was thinking about Keeley, or my older sister, Addison, when she visited. I never considered I’d be the first to bless her with a rugrat. But here we are.

“So that’s a yes?” Mom asks enthusiastically.

“That’s a ‘let’s give it a try.’”

“Deal. But I think you’ll find you love it.”

“You might be right.”

“I usually am.”

She sets about making Isaac lunch while I say goodbye.

“Little man, I have to go into work again, but Nana’s here.” We’ve been playing all morning which means this could go either way. Some days he pushes me out the door because he’s ready for someone new, and on other days he gets upset because we’ve been spending so much time together and he doesn’t want to let go. I pause, my breath caught, as I wait.

“Okay, Dad. Lub you.”

The air leaves my lungs as I bend down to pull him into a hug. “Look after Nana, okay?”

“Yep.”

He jumps up and runs into the kitchen while I sigh in relief. It’s never easy leaving him, but saying goodbye when he’s crying makes it so much harder.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Mom. Let me know if you need anything on my way home or if anything—”

“We’ll be all right,” she cuts me off, lifting Isaac into her arms. “Off you go.”

“Bye, Daddy.”

Pulling my cap low on my forehead, I throw my bag over my shoulder and walk to the door, calling out as I leave, “Love you, Isaac.”

“Lub you.”

Isaac’s voice remains in my mind as the tension of each goodbye swirls in my gut, and I’m still in my head as I take the elevator down to my truck.

How am I going to do this when the season begins? How am I going to travel with the team, knowing he’s at home without either of his parents? My mom’s great, but she’s not me . Or even Macy.

For all her faults, and Macy has many, she was always home while I was away. That was a deal we made. And until she decided she’d had enough and cheated, it was working. Although I guess I never really knew what they got up to. He always seemed happy, but was she really looking after him?

Either way, she’s keeping us in limbo now. Keeping Isaac in limbo. And it’s my fault.

The elevator comes to a stop on another level, and I’m snapped out of my head as the doors open. Dropping my gaze to the floor, I step back and watch as a woman joins me inside, her long legs covered in tight black leggings that appear painted on, paired with red strappy shoes complete with a heel that could kill a man.

It’s fucking hot.

And I don’t have to see her face to know who the legs belong to.

“Hey, you,” Paige’s voice enters my mind as I glance up, her expression bright as she settles in opposite me, leaning back against the mirrored wall. “We meet again.”

“We do.” I nod before lifting my cap higher so I can see her properly, taking in the rest of her outfit. And immediately regretting it. She’s wearing a white lace top that’s basically a long bra made to look like clothes, revealing a strip of toned skin across her navel.

She’s clearly dressed to impress and it’s working. Though I wish it wasn’t.

“Where are you off to on this fine day?” she asks, drawing my attention to her painted red lips as I watch her mouth move.

She looks like she belongs in a magazine rather than an apartment elevator. And I want out.

“I’m going to work,” I answer swiftly, not bothering to elaborate. “You?” Dammit . Why did I ask?

Paige blows out a breath, appearing stressed, but her signature smile remains plastered on her face. “I’ve got a hellish day. I’m already running behind. I have a photo shoot for Silver and Stripes magazine in my apartment. Have you heard of it? They mix high-end fashion with business. What am I saying? Everyone’s heard of them.” I haven’t… But that’s not what has my brows furrowing. I’m wondering …is she a model? A businesswoman? Or is she the photographer? “Anyway,” she continues, thankfully stopping me from asking since we’re almost at the lobby, “I’ve got that, and then I’m meeting my dad for dinner—not dressed like this, obviously. I mean, I love it, but not for my dad. Then after that, I plan on curling up on the couch with a glass of wine and a good book. That’s the part I’m most looking forward to. Do you read?”

“Ah—” When my mind catches up, I’m about to tell her that I do when the elevator dings and the door opens to the lobby.

“Ooh. This is me,” she says before I have a chance to answer. “I’m meeting the crew here to take them upstairs. Have fun. Don’t work too hard.”

She waves as she walks away, and I can’t stop myself from watching her leave, my gaze drawn to her every move until the doors shut again, cutting off my view.

And I literally shake off my thoughts.

What was that? She threw me off with the outfit and the talking…

She’s doing that a lot. Throwing me off.

When I reach the parking garage, I jump in my truck with thoughts of Paige running on repeat in my mind. And I actually smile. Pausing with my hands on the steering wheel, I almost laugh.

She distracted me. I was spiraling, and Paige pulled me out of my head with her endless chitchat and perfect legs.

She rescued me .

Does this mean I owe her a drink now?