Page 60 of Delicate Storm

“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 heshouldn’tdo 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 ofSports 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 practicallynaked.

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 newsstandsstill 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?

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