Page 53 of Delicate Storm

Like always, my mind drifts to Paige, but I cut off that line of thinking before I picture her naked. That’s not conducive to my moving-on plans. I need to find something else to take my mind off things. Something that isn’t football related and unfortunately, Paige now fits that bill.

After twiddling my fingers for way longer than anyone should twiddle, I grab my phone and call my mom, hoping she’ll help me pass the time, quickly realizing that was a mistake.

“What’s wrong?” she rushes out, making me startle.

“Who answers a call like that?”

“Me. When you call.”

“I just called to say hi.”

“As lovely as that is, I saw you yesterday and I’m seeing you tomorrow, so sue me for being curious.”

“Well, I’m good.”

“How’s Isaac?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know when he gets home.”

“I’m sure he’s having a blast. Oh, Keeley just arrived.”

“She’s there?”

“Yep.”

My brows furrow because she hardly ever visits; she’s a caller. Always claiming she’s too busy to see people. Something must be going on. “What’s wrong?” I ask, concern obvious in my tone.

Mom bursts out laughing, and it’s a good fifteen seconds before she responds. “You two are so alike it’s crazy.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I already told you that.”

“Exactly. And there’s nothing wrong with her either.” Mom laughs again and I picture her rolling her eyes. She’s not stupid; she knows there’s something up with both of us, but thankfully, she’s not one to push it.

“Is that East?” Keeley asks in the background before the phone crackles and she comes on the line. “Can we come over?”

“What, why?”

“I want to use your pool.”

I’d normally say no, but since that will definitely kill time and mean I have someone to keep an eye on Isaac while I talk to Macy, it seems like a good idea. “Fine. Come over. I’ll make dinner. Hope you like steak.”

“Are you okay?” she asks, and it sets Mom off laughing again.

An hour later, Mom, Keeley, and I are sitting by the pool, all our issues—our unspoken issues—temporarily benched while we enjoy the sunshine. Keeley stretches out on the lounge chair beside me and yawns, while my gaze flits to the water. “I thought you wanted to use the pool?”

“This is me using the pool. Where else do you expect me to soak up the warmth in my bikini?”

“Yourbalcony? Atyourapartment.”

“Oh shush. You’re happy I’m here. We both know you need the company.”

“As do you.”

“Touché. Now let me enjoy what little time we have.”

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