Winter Whirlwind by Amy Sparling Read Free Book Online Page A

I ask, almost knocking over Becca in my haste to get to the computer. “It’s only been out a few hours.”
    Deja nods. “It was the first thing I saw on Facebook today. But um, you might want to get Becca to read the comments to you. Don’t look at them yourself.”
    I lift an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
    Becca shoves me out of the way and goes to the internet, pulling up the Track’s Facebook page.
    Deja bites on her bottom lip. “Well, most of the comments are really nice but you know how people are. Some people are being jerks, but it’s rare.”
    I groan.
    “Don’t worry about it, Bay,” Becca says, her eyes glued to the computer screen. “Here it is. There’s two hundred comments already, damn.”
    I look over, telling myself not to focus on the comments. This morning at seven a.m. Mark posted a picture of the magazine cover to our page. “These aren’t so bad,” she says, scrolling through comments. I see a bunch of emojis but I don’t read any of it. Not until she stops on one particular comment that’s typed in all caps.
    “What a bitch,” she murmurs before she keeps scrolling.
    I grab her arm. “No, I want to see it. What was it?”
    “Bay, you don’t want to see it. I’ll just delete it.”
    “Not until I see what it says,” I say, taking the mouse from her. The comment is easy to find and it makes my blood boil.
     
    YEH WHO CARES THIS WOMAN IS A TOTAL SLUT
     
    The comment doesn’t bother me so much as the person who posted it. My teeth grind together. “Natalie,” I say, deleting the comment myself. Then I block her from our page. But the act of banning her from commenting doesn’t really do anything to help with how angry I am. That bitch tried to ruin my marriage and my life and now she has the nerve to call me a slut? Please.
    “Do you want me to kick her ass?” Becca says. “Because I’d be happy to. Just say the word, babe.”
    I shake my head. “If anyone is kicking her ass it’ll be me. But I don’t think we need to. She’s so pathetic.” I hold my head up and make a promise to myself that I won’t read any more of the comments.
    “You’re handling this really well,” Becca says.
    I shrug. “What can I say? I’m on the cover of a magazine and that bitch isn’t.”
     
    *
     
    The day pretty much flies by after the magazine is out. I work at the front desk with Becca while Deja keeps Jett in the kid’s room. All of our clients see the magazine when they walk in and they all want to talk about it. Many of the teenage riders think it’s awesome and ask to take a photo with me to post online. I’m happy to oblige. By the time the work day is over, I’m dying to unwind with a workout in our gym.
    Since we opened the gym to up regular memberships, there’s already a few guys in here working out when I arrive. I ignore them and head to my favorite weight machine which is a tall cable machine. I slip the metal bar into the fifty-pound weight and turn around to begin my workout.
    Only, I can’t, because there’s a guy standing in front of me. He’s lean and muscular, with long dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He’s wearing a black tight-fitting tank top and sweatpants. I don’t recognize him as one of the motocross guys who work out here. He must be someone who signed up for the membership only.
    “Hi, can I help you?” I ask, trying to decipher the cryptic look on his face.
    “Yeah, sweetheart I think you can,” he says, taking a step closer. I back up. My back is very close to the machine, which has two long metal arms on either side. Between it and the guy, I’m kind of boxed in with no way out.
    I straighten and try to look fearless. “What the hell does that mean?”
    “It means I want more of what I saw online,” he says, grinning. His gaze drops down to my chest, where it lingers on my cleavage.
    I suppress a shudder. “You mean the magazine article?” Sure, the photos were mildly sexy but they were all about me being a wife.