Page 83 of Stardusted

It was a nightmare.

I needed to tell someone. I needed to bring somebody into this with me, or I was going to lose my mind.

Rainwater slid down my nose, and I swiped the back of my hand under it, sniffling. Okay. I could do this. I was home. I was safe.

For now.

I climbed the stairs, fumbling for my phone. It took a few tries to unlock it with my wet thumb, but I pulled up Amelia’s number as I reached the top.

I toed off my soaked shoes and shot off a quick message.

Need to talk. Can you come over?

I hit send.

Only then did I pause and bite my cheek. Maybe that hadn’t been the best course of action. Too late now, but still…there were things to consider. As the shock started to ebb, my pragmatic side kicked back in, and I pressed my lips into a line, staring at the screen. I needed to breathe. Just breathe. And think.

Everything was happening so fast.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

It was too late to unsend the text. It was out there. Groaning, I dropped the phone on the kitchen counter and went to my bedroom, where I tugged off my apron and wrestled out of my damp uniform dress. I tossed the wet clothes in a heap on the floor and, not bothering with a clean bra, pulled on a tank top and yoga pants before heading back to the front room.

Shivering from the deadly combo of chilly air and way too much adrenaline with nowhere to go, I snatched up my discarded cardigan from the other day, slinging it on and clutching it close. A quick glance at my phone showed no reply from Amelia. I muttered a curse and rubbed my aching temples. At this point, I was one catastrophe away from never leaving this apartment again.

Maybe it was best she didn’t answer. Maybe telling her was a bad idea anyway. It wasn’t safe. None of this was. The bruises on my arms and the marks on my palm proved that.

As did, you know, the angry robot I’d tangled with a couple days ago.

No, Amelia needed to stay far, far away from all this. If something happened to her, if someone I loved got hurt because of me…well, I’d never forgive myself.

I stared at the silent phone lying on the counter, catching my bottom lip between my teeth. Maybe it still for the best I keep this to myself. For now.

Just yours truly versus an army of killer robots who could also turn into tall, dark, and handsome liars. Who could also slip into shiny silver skin.

No problem.

“He’s an alien” I whispered, lacing my fingers behind my neck and dropping my head back. Saying it aloud didn’t help anything. Didn’t help it sink in.

I didn’t know what to do. Where did I go from here? So far, I’d handled this situation with a certain degree of detachment, but that plan had just exploded.

I’d wanted answers. And I’d gotten them. Sort of. Some, at least. The issue was, these answers raised even more questions.

Like what the actual crap was Sky?

Aliens had been in my life longer than the last week. He’d been hiding in plain sight for months. And now I’d painted a target on myself?—

A knock sounded on the door.

The rapping sliced through the quiet and stopped my heart. I gasped, spinning toward the stairwell and nearly tripping over the coffee table in the process. I threw out my arms, barely catching myself before sprawling on the laminate floor.

Somebody was at my door.

Muffled rain hammered the windows. My pulse stuttered, and my strangled breathing seemed extra loud in the sudden, pregnant silence.

Then I remembered the text. Right. I’d texted Amelia.

I blew out a breath, shoulders wilting. Sure, she hadn’t responded, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d just shown up.It had to be Amelia. I was just being paranoid.