Page 98 of Stormswept Colorado

Sometimes I loved these types of events. Getting dressed up, chatting with other artists and meeting their partners. Which made me wonder what Teller would think of it. Would he ever want to come to something like this with me? Would he hate it? He would definitely hate the red carpet.

Yet he was so sweet and thoughtful that he’d probably tolerate it all, for me. I could just imagine his deadpan responses to reporter questions and industry small-talk.

I smiled, picturing it, even as sadness dulled the fantasy. Teller would be giving up a lot to be with me. His privacy first and foremost.

God, how would this ever work? A sudden wave of despair had me reeling.

When I’d mentioned my “boyfriend” to Paul, it made me realize how much I wanted that. To call Teller my boyfriend. To be with him whenever we wanted. Share what I felt about him with everyone we knew.

But was there any possible ending where we could both have the life we wanted and still be together?

I missed him more than ever, so much right now it was painful. Finding a quiet corner, I went to open my text messages. Just needing to talk to him. Remind myself how much Teller wanted this too.Us.

But then I noticed a new email notification. The restaurant started spinning like I had vertigo.

It was fromhim. Biggest Fan. Tonight, about half an hour ago, he’d finally replied.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Smile for me

Dear Ayla,

You asked how I’m different. It’s because I know the real you. Because I’m always watching. Someday we’ll be together, and you’ll understand how perfect I am for you.

Love, your Biggest Fan

There was another photo attached. One of me outside the Santa Monica recording studio this past week, probably taken through a telephoto lens.

My hand trembled. Bile rose up in my throat and coated my tongue. I was going to be sick.

“So here’s where you’ve been hiding,” Paul said in a sing-song voice. “What’s so interesting on your phone?”

I stuffed the phone back into my clutch purse. “Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. What’s the matter?”

“It’s not your concern.” I didn’t even try to hide how upset I was. I just had to get out of here. “I’m not feeling well. I need to go.”

I needed Teller.

When I tried to weave around Paul, he blocked me. “Ayla, I can help.”

“No, youcan’t. I’m going to call my driver to pick me up.”

“If you need a ride, I’ll take you. But let’s go back to my place. Have a drink and talk this through. Babe, I’m here for you.”

Babe?“Absolutely not. I’m not yourbabe.”

“Wait a minute.” Paul’s hand seized my shoulder, keeping me from walking away. “Look, I heard about that Biggest Fan guy. Why won’t you just let me in? Let me help you.”

Chills seemed to radiate from where he was touching me, slithering along my limbs. “How the hell do you know about that?Nobodyknows about that.” Except for River, Aiden, and of course Teller. None of them would’ve shared it with another soul.

Paul laughed nervously, glancing around at the faces turning toward us. “We should talk somewhere quieter.” Raising his voice, he said, “We’re just having some creative differences. We’ll be back.” I opened my mouth to tell Paul where he could stuff hiscreative differences.

But he pulled me down a hallway before I could get a word out. I struggled to pull free. “How do you know about the stalker?” I demanded.

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