Page 111 of Starcrossed Colorado

My brother was in my room right now, snoring. Grace had taken the couch. It probably would’ve made more sense for her to take Emma’s room, but Grace hadn’t suggested that, and neither had I. All Emma’s stuff was in there. Stella’s doggy bed and toys.

I’d been in there earlier, and that had not been a good idea. I’d been drowning in the scent of lavender-vanilla, and only Maisie calling for me had brought me back to the surface.

“I’m going to go downstairs and work out,” I said. “Maybe I can exhaust myself so I can sleep.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Just stay close if Maisie wakes up in the night.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

“Thanks.”

I went down to the training room. Did pushups, sit-ups, and banged out pull-ups on the bar over the doorframe. The exercise helped some. Yet I still wasn’t tired.

Then someone knocked, and I realized it was the external door at the back of the building. Probably another vulture reporter.

Fury rushed back, setting my pulse racing.Seriously? It was the middle of the night. My kid was sleeping. Did these people have no decency?

Don’t do anything stupid, I told myself. But I was already storming to the door. I felt just reckless enough to welcome a fight, no matter how idiotic that would be.

I yanked the door open.

But there was no reporter outside.

Ayla Maxwell stood on the concrete outside my back door. She had a baseball cap pulled over her platinum-blond hair, no trace of her signature dramatic makeup, but her heart-shaped face and green eyes were unmistakable. Same face and eyes that Lori and my daughter shared.

“Are youinsane?” I growled.

“It’s quite possible,” she muttered.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her inside, glancing around. But there wasn’t a single reporter or photographer in sight.

I closed the door quietly, thinking of my daughter asleep upstairs, and locked the bolt. “Haven’t you done enough to fuck up my life?”

“I’m so sorry about the article. That wasn’t me, I swear.”

“It was your fault, though.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

Under the harsh light of the hallway, dark circles ringed her eyes. Not unlike the ones I’d seen in my own mirror. Her lips were chapped, and her skin was sickly pale. A baggy T-shirt and a backpack swallowed her petite frame.

I refused to believe that Ayla felt worse than I did. But she wasn’t in good shape. That was for sure.

“How’d you even get here?”

“I snuck out of the rehab facility, bought a car with cash, and drove here. Parked a couple blocks away and walked to your building. I made sure nobody was around to see.”

“You drove here from New England? By yourself?”

“Didn’t have much choice.”

“Then why isn’t the news reporting that you disappeared again?”

“My people are probably keeping it quiet as long as they can. But I left my phone behind and I’ve avoided using credit cards so they don’t know where I am. I swear I would never wish to cause you or Maisie any harm. I just really, really need a friend. And I have nowhere else to go.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face. I didn’t need this.

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