Page 107 of Crossing Arizona

The video cuts out when the reporters begin to bombard him with questions. My screen goes black.

I can’t move. Can’t breathe. The world around me has stopped, and all I can hear is his voice in my head, over and over again.

I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids.

I’m done running.

My phone buzzes, jolting me back to reality.

Salem:

You alive, or do I need to call an ambulance?

Me:

When was this recorded?

Salem:

Yesterday after his game in California

“Holy shit,” I whisper, shoving the phone into my pocket before my shaking hands can drop it.

“Everything good?” Kelly asks, startling me. She raises a brow as she leans over the counter.

“Yeah.” No. “Totally fine.” I’m freaking the fuck out.

Matty just admitted he was in love with me. A man. On live television. What the hell was he thinking?! Did he even talk to his agent first? His PR people? This could tank his entire fucking career.

But he did it anyway. For me.

Kelly pokes me in the ribs, causing me to jump, and she tosses me an amused grin. “Why don’t you head out early? I can handle closing everything up. You look like you’re gonna vomit.”

Oh fuck, I just might. “Yeah, fine. Here’s the keys.”

Tossing them onto the table, I zip up my jacket and brace myself for the holiday crowd as I weave my way out of the mall. The bright lights and cheery decorations blur past me, barely registering. My thoughts drag me under so completely that I don’t even realize I’ve taken the elevator until I’m standing at my car, staring at my reflection in the driver’s side window.

What the fuck is happening right now? What the hell do I do?

I could ignore it. Pretend I saw nothing. Keep going with my mundane existence like I’m not itching for something—anything—to shake up my world.

Or… I could confront him. Show the fuck up at his front door, make him take it back, tell him he’s lost his goddamn mind. That’s what I’ll do. There’s no way he can mean it, and I won’t be the reason he blows his life up. No fucking way.

Sliding behind the wheel, I gun it toward home, hellbent on setting everything straight and ending this insanity.

Because there’s no way in hell Matty could have chosen me.

Chapter forty-four

This house feels too damn quiet. Too big.

Sitting on the couch, I stare blankly at the TV, not even paying attention to whatever sitcom has been running repeatedly for the last few hours. The laugh track feels like it’s mocking me, and it’s my punishment for being so damn hopeful, so I keep the volume up loud.

My phone sits on the coffee table, screen dark and silent. It’s been two days.

Two days since I stood in front of the world and said everything I’ve been too scared to say for years.

Two days since I let my heart hang out in the open like some desperate fool.