Page 42 of Starcrossed Colorado

If the guy came back, though, he could waltz right into Emma’s apartment building. For all I knew, there was a back door and the creep was heading there now.

I took out my phone and tried calling Emma. She didn’t answer.

I crossed to the entrance door, went inside her building, and started up the stairs. Except I didn’t actually know which apartment was hers. It could be anywhere.

Nice job thinking ahead.

But I had to warn her that the same creep from earlier might be hanging around. I would offer to call Teller. The Silver Ridge PD station was less than a mile away. If Emma wanted to, we could file a report.

Then I heard a woman shout. It had come from the floor above.

I barreled up the steps.

ELEVEN

Emma

I went into my apartment,switched on the light, and dropped my bag to the carpet. Stella sat on her haunches, blinking up at me.

“He’s a tough nut to crack, that one.”

I’d never met someone so frustrating as Ashford O’Neal. So determined to be a hard-hearted grouch when Iknewhe was a good guy underneath.

“I’m wearing him down,” I said to Stella. “It’s hard work though.” I walked toward the tiny kitchen to pour some food in Stella’s bowl. She dove right in. “Why is he so resistant to us being friends? Is it me? Piper said he’s like that with everyone, but I don’t know.”

He thought Maisie would get attached. That she’d be sad when the summer ended. ButIwas already attached. Not just to that sweet little girl, but to the glimpses of her dad’s softer side that I’d seen so far. It wasn’t enough to qualify as a crush, but it was getting close. Which was all kinds of foolish. The last thing I needed was more guy-related drama.

“And yet, he keeps being so handsome. What’s a girl to do?”

Stella tilted her head, chewing.

Then I remembered the leak.

I’d been so up in my head, I’d forgotten all about it. It felt like ages since the rainstorm this morning. Sheldon hadn’t texted me about the status of the repairs, either.

I just hoped the leak was fixed, even if they’d had to make a stop-gap repair. I assumed there would be bigger repairs needed, like replacing the ruined drywall on the ceiling, but that was an issue to figure out tomorrow.

Stella followed at my heels. I turned on the light in my bedroom. The whole place smelled damp and musty.

It had not been fixed.

There was a red mop bucket placed on the bed frame to catch the drips instead of my tiny trash can. Someone had been in here. But that wet spot on the ceiling bulged downward more than ever, like any minute it would collapse.

Where was I supposed to sleep?

I looked around for the belongings I’d stacked this morning to keep them away from the leak. My bedding, my pajamas from last night, some books. I’d been in too much of a hurry to carry it all into the living area. But they weren’t where I’d left them.

Someone had moved my things to beneath the window. And now, there was dampness showing around the frame.

The window had been leaking too. Unbelievable.

When I knelt down, I found my stuff soaked with dirty rainwater. I groaned. My pillow, my blankets. Everything was wet. Thissucked. I sorted through, figuring out what else was ruined.

Beneath a blanket, I found my journal.

“No,” I whispered.

Stella barked, shuffling her feet against the carpet. She pushed her nose against my cheek. But I couldn’t stop staring at my journal. The pages were totally waterlogged. The ink had run. One tore as I tried to turn it.

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