Page 75 of Wicked Rockstar

“I’m sure he’ll figure something out,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice that only served to irritate me further.

“Are you always this unhelpful?” I glared, wishing I could see his eyes behind those infuriating sunglasses.

He shrugged again, this time the gesture making me want to throw something.

“Ugh.” I waved a hand at him, exasperated. “I can’t leave you out here all day. What if you get hungry or need the bathroom?”

“I’m fine.” His stoic response was interrupted by the door next to me opening.

Ana’s head poked out of her doorway, her eyes widening as she caught sight of Max. I understood her reaction well.

I sighed, suddenly weary. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

She grinned, her eyes dancing with curiosity. “I hope so.” She winked before shutting her door, leaving me alone again with my unwanted guardian.

Making a split-second decision, I lunged forward and grabbed Max’s arm, conscious of the solid muscle beneath my fingers. I knew full well he’d let me pull him inside. “I don’tneed my neighbors freaked out, wondering who you are and why you’re here.”

He turned his head and stared a little too long at my friend’s door, a smile playing at his lips. “She didn’t seem freaked out to me.”

So he was a comedian now, too. I made note of his subtle reaction to my friend, determined to dive into it later.

Infuriated, I yanked him the rest of the way in and slammed the door. I let go and stalked over to the couch to push aside a suitcase.

“Sit,” I commanded, needing to feel some semblance of control over the situation.

Without a word, he sat, his large frame making my couch look ridiculously small. I chewed my lip between my teeth, uncertain how to proceed. “Do you want to watch TV? Can I get you something to eat?”

“I’m good.” He pulled out his phone, pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, and responded to a message.

Not knowing what to do with myself, I dragged the suitcases off the couch, intending to put everything away. I poked my head out to check on Max regularly. He looked far too comfortable on my sofa. His calm demeanor heightened my restlessness.

My stomach growled, reminding me I’d missed breakfast and lunch. I went to the doorway. “Want a sandwich?” I asked Max, more out of politeness than any real expectation he’d accept.

Max stood up and stretched. “I’m all set.”

I went into my galley kitchen and pulled together the ingredients to what I liked to call my “comfort sandwich.” As I spread Miracle Whip on the bread, I heard Max’s heavy footsteps trek to my door and open it.

I shrugged, figuring he was just stepping out for a minute, or maybe he missed his post in the hall. A tiny kernel of guiltswirled in me. I hated getting him into trouble for my decision, even if I knew I wouldn’t change my mind.

The sudden sound of a loud drill filled my apartment, shattering the tense silence. My heart leapt in my throat as I realized the noise was coming from just outside my door. I took two steps out of the kitchen, shock rendering me immobile. “What are you doing?”

Max didn’t answer. He stood off to the side while an older gentleman installed a camera by my door. Another man cut through the door and frame, apparently installing additional locks.

My mind reeled, unable to process what was happening.

“He can’t … ” I sputtered, a mix of anger and disbelief causing me to be speechless.

There was onlyoneman that had the audacity to do something like this.

Killian.

Chapter Twenty

TRISSA

My hands trembled as I pushed past the locksmiths into the hallway to dial Killian’s number again.

This time he picked up. “You can’t do this,” I seethed

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