Page 69 of Ever With Me

Big, fancy-ass house and not a single person to fill it with.

He plopped down on the couch and took out his phone. Firing off a quick message to the owner of the rental, he set his phone down on the empty seat beside him and laid his head back, feeling sick to his stomach.

He didn’t know what was worse—that he was sitting here feeling sorry for himself or the fact that he’d made his own bed.

The sound of the back door opening caught his attention, and he glanced over as Maddie came inside, a mug in her hands.

She gave him a grim smile, then ambled over toward him. “Morning, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

He couldn’t have thought of a better description.

That’s what she is.

“You stayed,” he mumbled.

She sat on the coffee table across from him. “Someone had to take care of the toddler with night terrors. We ended up sleeping in your bed. Hope you don’t mind.”

Oh God.

The hazy memory of someone singing “Hallelujah”and “Wildfire” came back.Maddie?

“I owe you . . . so much more than I could ever owe anyone.” He searched her gaze. “Consider the ten hours paid off.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I already did.” She sipped the coffee in her mug, then set it down. “Are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

Brooks shook his head, leaning back against the pillow. “What happened is that I decided to torpedo the few good relationships I had left. I’m a piece of crap, Maddie. Just as wicked and horrible as everyone thinks. I put Audrey in danger, and I’ll never forgive myself for it. And I’m exhausted.”

“First, she wasn’t in danger. I was here.” Maddie reached across the space between them and took his hand. “And you need to stop repeating that bullshit. Repeat it enough and you’re going to believe it, Brooks. You arenota piece of crap.”

He gave a lifeless smile. “How would you know? You barely know me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But how many people really know you? How often do you give people the chance to know you?”

“There’s nothing there worth knowing.” Brooks brushed the back of her knuckles with his thumb. “You want to hear something? I’m about to get dropped from my label. My manager wanted me to check into rehab and go to sex therapy—he thought it would look good to the press as an image makeover—but I refused because even I won’t pretend those are my issues for the sake of PR. The head of my label gave me a week’s deadline to pitch a rebrand to her. I’m not going to.Because I don’t even care.”

“Good.”

He gave her a puzzled look. “Good?”

“Yeah, I think it would be good for you. You’re clearly miserable. And if you’re working with people who are asking things of you that you’re morally opposed to, why continue?”

He gave her a jaunty smile. “What about my art? My fans?”

“Fuck them.” She shook her head as he chuckled. “I’m serious. You don’t owe people anything to the point of sacrificing your mental and emotional health.”

She shifted. “Kayla told me about your mom this morning. How depressed she was all your life. How much time you spent helping babysit and cooking meals and being a parent when you were just a kid. And then how you took over and raised Kayla once your mom died. You went from that to being an international rock star, which may be great on the surface, but doesn’t have a lot of depth.” Maddie squeezed his hand. “I think it’s time for Brooks to take care of Brooks.”

“Not sure if I know how to do that.” He didn’t say it in a self-pitying way, but it sounded that way to his ears.

“Then start by letting your friends and family take care of you.”

Brooks let his gaze drift over her. “Is that what you are, Madison?”

“You haven’t scared me away yet, Brooks.” She gestured to her messy hair, joggers, and sweatshirt. “I even came over here looking like this last night, all because Cormac wanted me to check on you. So yeah, I’d say I’m your friend.”

How didn’t I scare her away?