Page 27 of Starcrossed Colorado

But I was a grown woman with a college degree. I could handle my own shit. And it wasn’t that bad, really. This was adulting. Who had ever said it was supposed to be nothing but sunshine and rainbows?

I glanced up at the clouds just as a few rays of sunlight broke through. And there actuallywasa rainbow.

I took a deep breath, feeling steadier already. I refused to let this day get me down.

I’d started calling Ashford’s building the Big Blue Monster because of its blue painted brick and imposing facade. Also because of the grumpy man who lived inside. It now had a small sign proclaimingMusic Lessonsin the window. Not the fancy sign Dixie had offered, since I had no idea what to call my “music school,” but this was all I needed for now.

I left my wet umbrella by the door and my waterlogged shoes on the mat, then went straight for the kitchenette, where I filledthe electric kettle with water to make some tea. Just what I needed. It would warm me right up. I brushed damp strands of my hair away from my cheek. Dixie hadn’t been exaggerating about the sideways rain.

Then heavy footsteps thudded in the hall, coming my way.

Ugh. Really?

Ashford’s bulky form appeared in the doorway, hands on his hips and a deep scowl on his expression. “Emma, I told you last week about the bear latch on the trash can.”

“I know. I got all your stupid notes.” I set the box of tea on the counter, determined to stay calm. “I always make sure the trash is secure.”

“Except clearly you didn’t, because this morning I found trash strewn all over behind the building. An animal got in there overnight.”

“What?” The back of my neck heated.Calm. I would not lose my temper with this man. “That’s not possible. I checked the latch yesterday before I left. It was secure.”

He waved an arm toward the back of the building. “Are you claiming that somebody else with opposable thumbs was skulking around here during the night messing with my trash can?”

Anger bubbled inside me despite my efforts to keep it down. “Ourtrash can, Ashford. It’sours.”

“Same difference.”

“No, it’s not.”Deep. Breaths. “Let’s just get it cleaned up.” I took a step toward the door.

“I already cleaned it up.”

I spun back around to face him. “You should have waited for me to help you.”

“I don’t need help picking up trash.”

“You know what? I don’t care whatyouneed.” My finger poked into the broad wall of muscle that was his chest as Iadvanced on him. “That signed lease means I have every right to be here. That makes this place my responsibility as much as it is yours.”

His nostrils flared. “You’re mad that I didn’t make you pick up trash?”

“Yes, actually. I am.”

“Fine. Next time there’s a mess, I’ll save it for you.”

“Perfect. I can’twait.”

We were suddenly standing very close. His eyes narrowed, studying my face. “Why are you all wet?”

“Because I walked here. It’s storming outside. As I’m sure you noticed.”

“I did, but I wore a raincoat when I went out there. That’s what sensible people do.”

My throat felt hot and thick. Tears burned behind my eyes. I was so dang sick of Ashford and his attitude. His assumption that I couldn’t do a single thing right.

“I didn’t remember to pack a raincoat when I left California.” The last word caught in my throat, so I turned and walked away. No way would I cry in front of him.

In the storage closet, I took some more deep breaths.Lotsof deep breaths. Then changed into a spare set of dry clothes. Thank goodness I’d left a few things here just in case. I’d been preparing for incidents involving baby spit-up, but my spare outfit worked for a rainy day too.

Then, as I dug through my messenger bag, I realized I’d left my journal at my apartment in the chaos of this morning. To someone like Ashford, it would probably seem silly that I was so attached to my diary. It was a comfort thing, knowing I could open it up and write down whatever I was thinking. Such as, a rant about the impossible man I had to share a space with. Now it was too late to go back to my apartment for it.

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