Page 43 of Delicate Storm

“No, and I don’t want to have that chat. But not because I want to fuck around. Because it’s casual and I want it to stay that way.”

“Ugh, fine. I guess I can fly over and do it for you.”

“Do what?”

“Screw the guys on the team. You can live vicariously through me.”

“You’re so kind.”

“I know. That’s the type of friend I am. Speaking of friends… Are those bitches still giving you grief?” I laugh, but it’s not even remotely funny. They’re not giving me grief. They’ve just cut me out of their lives. And while it hurt at first, the regret I felt didn’t stem from losing my friends, but the realization that I’d done the same thing to my dad. He left my mom even though he loved her, and I cut him off. I left New York, even though I love it there, and now… New York has done the same to me. If you’re not seen at all the parties or keeping up with the lunches, you’re no longer a part of the group.

I chat with Cass until my dad arrives about halfway through the practice. And when it’s almost over, we make our way down to the field.

No one pays us any mind as we step onto the turf—the guys all off in their own conversations—and it gives me a chance to checkthem out now that I’m close. God, there are some hotties on this team. Cass would love it here. She’d—

I freeze mid-thought as my eyes lock on a face I’m all too familiar with, his expression bordering on annoyance, like it usually does. I’d smile if things between us weren’t about to completely blow up. And not in a good way.

Easton’s a goddamn football player. Not just any football player. A guy on my dear ole dad’s team.

And I’m fucked.

How the hell didn’t I know that?I mean, I haven’t bothered to learn anything about my father’s recently acquired team but that’s not the point. Easton is mind-blowingly hot. I’m confused as to why there aren’t more people talking about him. Or has my head been so far up my ass with my own problems that I missed it. I really wish I had Internet access right now.

How could this happen? I’ve joked to myself many times before that Easton is everywhere, but this is next-level.

I can’t believe we decided to hook up because our lives were messy and complicated while having no idea our connection was about to became a shitstorm of epic proportions.A storm. How fitting.

Dad says something into a microphone and before I know it, all eyes are on him as he brings the crowd to attention. I slip in behind the coaching staff and try to pay attention, but my thoughts are so scrambled it’s a struggle.

I don’t want our time to be over. I’ve always had a pretty healthy sex life, but Easton is a god. He’s possessive and demanding and sure of himself.

And he doesn’t play games. The way he…

Dammit, I’m doing it again. Now is not the time. Especially considering he’s going to see me in about thirty seconds and then our relationship—whatever it is—will be over.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I’m shuffled to my dad’s side, a wide—albeit fake—smile on my face.

Dad introduces me to the team and I do my thing, humanizing him, before tuning out, not paying attention to anything he says beyond that. Yet somehow, I manage to tune back in the very moment he says the words I was dreading.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that my daughter is off-limits.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder as if to highlight I’m the daughter he’s referring to. “She’s here because I wanted to show you all off. And so she’d believe me when I say I’m kind of a big deal.”

The guys laugh while I force another smile, making the stupid mistake of scanning the crowd.

I try hard not to look for him, but like a beacon, my eyes meet Easton’s stare a second before he turns away. And it’s impossible to miss that he’s fuming, if not also a little confused. I’m sure he thinks I betrayed him somehow. Like I knew.

But I’m not stupid. I know better than to get involved with anyone connected to my father.

Only now that it’s already happened, it’s going to be harder to take it back.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Easton

We said no strings, but there are so many fucking strings we could be at a kite festival.

What are the chances?And why are those words constantly rolling around in my head when it comes to Paige? If I believed in fate, this would be the moment I discovered it was out to fuck with me. She’s the owner’s daughter. Salvatore D’Angelo’s pride and joy. The woman he jokingly—or not so jokingly—told us all to stay the fuck away fromafterI’d already tasted her.

This is not going to end well for me.

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