Page 70 of Delicate Storm

But when I walk through the lobby and find Easton standing in front of the elevator, I pause, and almost consider turning around and heading back in the direction I came from.

Easton is another of life’s problems, and one I’d foolishly tried to take off my list.

It’s been over a week since I’ve seen him, and I’d prefer not to be a sweaty and emotional wreck when I do. Because despite us both knowing that what we had was casual and fleeting, I liked the way he made me feel when he looked at me. It was a different kind of wanted. Even if it was just sex.

Slowing my pace, I run through my options—to see him or not to see him—but when the elevator doors open and he steps aside to let people out, glancing in my direction, the decision is made for me. Busted.

Biting back a smile, I lift my fingers in the smallest of waves while he nods expressionless, and after we both enter the elevator, we stand on opposite sides of the space, making way for it to fill.

There’s an invisible tension in the air as we coast toward my floor, but I’m unsure if I’m the only one feeling it because Easton’s doing a damn good job at keeping his eyes focused anywhere but on me. And just when I think we’re going to go another day without speaking, the last person departs the level before mine. And we’re alone.

The buzz running through me intensifies and I both love and hate it. On one hand, the spark he ignites in me is exciting, but on the other hand, it sucks that I can’t do anything about it.

Easton remains silent as we travel the additional floor to my stop, and I arm myself, ready to call him out, when he finally speaks.

“I saw your photo spread,” he says, holding the button to keep the doors open.

And my stomach sinks. That’s all I need right now. For Easton to jump on the Paige-shouldn’t-be-naked bandwagon. Because if he’s not happy about those photos, it’s potentially about to get worse.

“I’m sorry if it affected you in any way,” I say though I don’t really mean it. “I clearly wasn’t thinking about anyone else and—”

“What are you talking about?”

“You said you saw my photos. It’s not hard to guess which ones you're referring to. So I was preempting your disappointment.”

“Disappointment? The fuck. I’ve spent the last few days thinking about those damn photos, and I mean,reallygiving them thought. The only disappointment I feel”—he pins me with his stare and my heart pounds in my chest—“is that I wasn’t there to bend you over that bathtub, and that I’m no longer allowed to be thinking that way. Because Paige…that fucking body. That photo. It could make a man crazy.

“A man… or?”

“A man. I can’t give you any other answer.”

He releases the button and steps back, allowing the doors to close, but I throw my hand out to stop them.

“Why did you have to be a football player?” I ask, my heart lodged in my throat.

Easton huffs, a soft smile on his lips. “The same reason you’re a D’Angelo. It’s in our blood.”

“Ugh. That’s not something that can easily be changed. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Easton’s smile widens and my chest tightens. I could spend hours trying to elicit that little twitch of his lips. Surly Easton is hot, alpha Easton is even hotter, but happy Easton? That guy could melt a woman’s panties right off. Including mine.

“If you ever figure it out,” he says, his smile gone, “let me know. Until then, I’ll see you around?”

“You will.”

I let the doors go but they open again before I’ve taken a step. “And Paige,”—Easton’s eyes lock on mine—“don’t take that disappointed crap from anyone. Be proud.”

I’m so unprepared for his comment that the doors shut before I’ve even uttered a thank you. Because while I am proud, and I don’t need anyone to tell me I should be, I kind of like that he did.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Paige

Dad stares at me with his eyebrow cocked. “Well, that certainly took my mind off my own issues.” He frowns, seemingly lost in thought until he adds, “You’re right, that’s very odd behavior.”

I just told him about Mom’s interest in the Mikkleson business, and the face he pulled was priceless.

“So, I’m not missing something?”I’ve been thinking about this all day, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why she would invest in a company she has no interest in. She told me that herself.

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