Page 84 of Worlds Collide

My mouth drops open the second I see the familiar handwriting.

We warned you.

That’s all it says, but I have no doubt that my mother wrote it, and that she’s referring to when they told Wolf he should stay away from me—which he has, so what the fuck?

“Wolfie told me it was probably from your mom, and that it would be nothing to worry about, but less than ten minutes later Tristan—you know Tristan is our PR guy, right?” He keeps talking urgently and I do my best to nod at the appropriate moments. “So Tristan calls us and says a magazine is running Wolf’s rehab story in the morning and that there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

“And Wolf told you not to do anything to stop it if it happened,” I remember.

“Exactly, that’s not the issue here. The thing is we’re pretty sure your parents sent in the story.”

“How would they—” I stop talking when I realize. “It doesn’t matter how. They have connections everywhere because everyone is used to fearing them.” I deflate on the couch next to Hawk. “That’s absolutely her handwriting,” I say with one hundred percent certainty. “Wolf could get a restraining order,” I muse out loud.

“Not until he gets out of rehab.” I cover my mouth to stop myself from saying anything about that. “Anyway, Wolf wanted me to bring you the note so you know what’s going on and you can do whatever you want about it. He told me to say this to you word for word.” Hawk gets out his phone and reads from it. “He just wants you to know about it and know that Wolf won’t say or do anything to them.”

“Okay.” I breathe out the word, then lean back and massage my temples. I have no idea what to do with all this information. Thenan unrelated thought pops into my head and I let it distract me from my parents—there’s not much I can do at three in the morning anyway. “So wait, did Derek and Wolf make up?”

“No,” Hawk says sadly and shakes his head. “Dee had to come back for practice and to prepare for Sunday’s game. I’m scared they’re just never going to want to talk to each other again. And that there’s nothing I’ll ever be able to do about it.”

“You’ve talked to both of them about it, haven’t you?” I demand.

“Of course I have. But Wolfie said no more meddling in his business, and this is absolutely his business, and Dee’s, so I just can’t interfere anymore.”

“You’re right,” I concede, then I decide it’s best I just go to sleep now because otherwise I’m going to ask way too many questions about Wolf and I can’t do that. I need to get over him. He left me, and he hasn’t called, and the message he sent with his brother didn’t say anything aboutus. He hasn’t asked me to go see him, and probably never wants to see me again.

“It really wasn’t your fault,” Hawk says quietly. I turn to look at him, wondering what he’s talking about. “Wolf relapsing,” he clarifies. “It wasn’t your fault. He never accepted that he has a problem, not until now. There’s nothing you could’ve done differently.”

His words sting and they alleviate some pressure at the same time.

I could never have had an impact on him, and I also have nothing to feel guilty about. My pushiness didn’t cause this.

“I’m going to sleep,” I decide.

“Yeah, me too,” Hawk agrees and stands. Our coffees stay untouched as I walk him to the guest bedroom.

I wish him goodnight and when I close my eyes, all I see isWolf. Illuminated by the Italian sun, with his long hair blowing in the wind, and a small, content smile gracing his lips.

“It’s out?”Hawk asks as he walks into the kitchen. He rubs his eyes and looks frankly adorable, all sleepy-eyed and yawning.

I nod at him and look back down at my phone screen where I’m reading the relatively short article.

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“You couldn’t sleep either?” he asks as he passes by me to pour himself some coffee.

“No,” I confirm. “Where is your husband?” I ask, doing my best to steer clear of the topic of Wolf.

“In Chicago this week,” he mumbles. “What does it say?” He nods down at my phone.

“That he’s in rehab, but it doesn’t say where exactly, how long he’s been there, or that it’s the second time.”

“That’s surprising,” Hawk muses with raised eyebrows. “What’s the whole thing about then?”

I wince and turn the phone so he can see. “They put a bunch of pictures of Wolf at parties with bottles of beer in his hand.”

“Yeah, they’re trying to figure out when the problem started.” He just shakes his head and goes back to drowning his coffee in creamer. “Trash goblins, that’s what thosereportersare.” I smile at the venom in his voice. Clearly, Wolf isn’t the only protective brother.

“You want to go get some breakfast?” Maybe if we’re doing something else then I’ll stop wanting to be next to Wolf today. He can’t be enjoying that the world knows... I mean, he told Hawknot to stop it, but still, it’s pretty shitty that they’re now going through old pictures of him with a fine-tooth comb.

---