Ava Alvarez is the brightest star in the night’s sky.
And I’m just another unlucky mortal, staring up and wanting the impossible.
To get closer.
CHAPTER 41
Harrison
I try to give Pix space. Let her soak it all in and do whatever it is actors do when they slip into their own sacred nirvana.
She’s motioned for me to join her a few times now.
I keep a safe distance, waving her off with a smile. Because I can feel the pull of my body toward hers, and I have to actively fight to stay away.
When she takes in the breeze and the wind catches her hair, I look down, twisting the ring around my finger.
It’s a little snug, but not uncomfortable. It’s been years since I’ve worn one, and I should probably take it off.
I don’t.
I like the weight of it. Like something in me has been missing for years, and now it’s back.
It’s not the same. None of it makes sense. But it feels weirdly right.
The elevator dings once, twice, then again. Three elevators arriving at once.
Reality crashes in as chaos erupts.
“Oh my God, it’s her.”
“Move, I saw her first.”
“Can I have an autograph?”
“Ava, over here!”
Jesus Christ.
Bodies surge as I shove through the crowd, a human wave crashing against me.
“Get back!” I shout.
No one listens.
Then I see Ava. Trapped. Cornered. She’s fumbling with her sunglasses when someone yanks them straight out of her hand. Her body jolts backward. Her head hits the glass wall.
Something inside me snaps.
Adrenaline floods my system, hot and blinding. I stop weaving and start bulldozing, shoving people aside.
I spot a thin scratch on her cheek.
Red. I see red.
I haul her up into my arms and pivot toward the nearest open elevator, moving fast.
“I’m getting you out of here,” I assure her.
