Page 67 of Delicate Storm

“What girl?”

“The one at the pool.”

Shit, now he’s talking about Paige.“That’s good. What did she do?”

“She helped me when I fell over.”

“You fell over? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I was running.” He hides his face and I smile.

“You won’t do that again, will you?”

“No. Water is lippry.”

“It is. I’m happy the girl was there to help.”

“Me too. She didn’t get mad.”

I should hope not. “Did you think she would?”

“Mom did. When I fell over at the zoo.”

She what? Jesus, Macy.

“You never told me you hurt yourself at the zoo.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

Shit.

Walking to the bed, I tuck him back in and lie beside him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re not in trouble for falling or for not telling me. I just want to know you’re okay. Always. I care about you.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure my words have sunk in, but when he lets out a loud yawn, I park the conversation for another time.

“Time to sleep.”

“Okay, Daddy. Good night.”

“Good night, Isaac. I love you.”

He immediately rolls over, so I chance leaving the room again, quietly pulling the door shut before switching on the monitor.

As soon as I’ve cleaned up, I fall into bed, exhausted, purposely bringing Paige to mind so I don’t get worked up about Macy.

She got mad at him for falling over? He’s three and—No, think of Paige. Paige who I can’t find while everyone else does.

Maybe she’s avoiding me. God knows I should be doing the same thing. If only I could stopthinking.

I allow myself a moment to picture her, to question what she’s doing, to imagine my face between her legs, and then my mind drifts to the cover of her magazine.

Again.

Maybe I need to see the pictures to take my mind off it. Once I know, I’ll be able to move on. It’s a stupid curiosity thing. And it’s taking up too much of my headspace.

Decision made, I bring up a search engine and type in her name. At least, I type Paige D’Angelo, assuming she has the same last name as her father.

I get hit after hit of associated links. Some take me to gossip sites with paparazzi shots of Paige out and about in New York, some take me to social media, showing me her personal pages or photos she’s tagged in, anda lotof links take me to fashion magazines. She’s definitely a model and Goddammit…I don’t need to see these. The idea was that I’d move on, but fuck, she’s stunning. She has an edge to her that differs from the other models in the shots and— who the fuck is that guy? He’s draped over her like he owns her and…not fucking important.God, what am I doing?

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