I was about to silence my phone when another call cut through the quiet. I answered it with a scowl. "Are you still not satisfied with how miserable I am, Ashton? Do you actually want to see me fall apart?"
"You know what I want, Scarlett." His voice came out rough, scraped raw, and beneath it I caught the faint static of rain through the speaker. "If I could just stay near you..."
Something sharp flared inside me, the kind that made my teeth clench and my pulse spike. I almost ended the call right there. Then he said, "I'm downstairs."
I went still.
Seconds later, I was at the balcony, gripping the railing, looking down. And there he was. Standing under the lamppost in the pouring rain like he had no instinct for self-preservation at all. Like some deep, stubborn pull had rooted him to that spot and he'd just let it.
"Are you out of your mind, Ashton?" My voice came out sharper than I intended. The cold wasn't gentle tonight, and he was just standing there, soaking through.
