Page 9 of When Stars Fall

“So you’ll get me drunk but not high?” I ask.

“The shoot is months—months, Ellie. You gotta learn to pace yourself.” Wyatt bumps his shoulder with mine, and this time his smile reaches his eyes.

My breath catches at the close contact and how handsome he is. He zeroes in on my mouth. In the space between us, electricity zips.

From across the limo, Isaac calls out in a singsong voice, “Pace yourself, Wyatt.”

Without breaking eye contact with me, Wyatt jerks his beer bottle, sending a brief spray in Isaac’s direction. We burst into laughter, and I chug the rest of my beer. A fire ignites inside me, warming me, threatening to rage out of control.

Being around them is going to be a lot of fun.

Chapter Five

Wyatt

Present Day

The door opens in a whoosh, and blondish-brown strands fly around, obscuring Ellie’s expression. I’m ten years late, but I’m here. That’s what matters.

She pushes her hair out of her face, and her brown eyes shoot daggers at me. Not the response I was hoping for, but expecting her to jump into my arms was likely too high of a bar.

“You sawThe Jackson Billows Show?”

“You’re a jackass. What the hell was that?” Her expression morphs from angry to sad in a heartbeat. “To let him talk about Isaac . . .”

“If Isaac was here, he’d wonder what took me so long.”Discussing him isn’t the first thing I expected her to call me out on, but it’s high on the list.

“I stopped wondering that almost ten years ago. I hope you have your return flight booked for tomorrow morning.”

“Excellent. I can spend the night here.” I step toward the threshold.

“That is not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Ellie.” I use the tone designed to weaken her knees.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare. You lost the right to say my name like that when you let me walk out of our house.”

“I’m here to repair that mistake.” I set my hand on the doorframe and lean closer.

She inches backward and doesn’t open the door any wider. “Doing this so publicly seems like the way to make it right? I have a life now. One that has nothing to do with you. Nothing.” Tension radiates off her.

I expected her reaction, sort of. Part of me had hoped a Herculean effort would have her falling back into my arms. Eight of our years apart are a blur of drugs and alcohol. Time has moved differently for her.

“You can’t snap your fingers and expect me to come running.” Her temple rests on the thick wooden door.

Her posture makes the breath in my throat catch. She looks like the girl I fell in love with, the one I followed around like a lost puppy. Until she up and left; then I was just lost.

“I’m clean now. Let’s talk. If you have such a great life without me, it can’t hurt to let me in.”

Indecision floats across her face, and she steps away from the entrance. She leads me from the side door through the galley kitchen and into a large open room with high ceilings and exposed wooden beams. Everything is decorated in creams and grays. She wasn’t such a fan of neutral shades when we lived together. Off to the right is a bar. Does she keep it stocked?

“Nice place.” Suddenly, I’m not sure what to say. My plan worked, and I’m here, with her. Now I need to plead my case. Maybe I should have made a list or come up with concessions.

Ellie gestures to one of the couches, her posture stiff. I perch on the armrest, and she sits opposite me. Something buzzes, and I pat my pocket. I frown when I dig out my phone, but it’s turned off. The buzzing isn’t me.

She holds up her device, and her home screen streams with new messages. The stock exchange and her notifications are twins.

“Oh,” I say. “That’s . . .” How do I respond? I’m not sorry. The attention is what I wanted. She used to hate the madness, the insanity of people’s curiosity, but I needed it for her to open the door.

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