Star-Crossed Letters (Falling for Famous #1)

“Really,” I say. “And you’re right. We got off lightly with just a warning. I don’t understand how.”

“I can’t imagine,” Daisy says, her eyes innocent.

“Why weren’t you more worried?”

She shrugs. “I made a call.”

“To whom? Don’t tell me one of your admirers is the chief of police?” Though it wouldn’t surprise me. Not much about Daisy surprises me anymore.

I push open the station doors and breathe the fresh air. We step out into the early morning light. The sun is just rising, casting its soft glow over the street. Looking into the reflection of the large window fronting the police station, I’m glad it’s so early and only a few people are in the streets to see me in my shrunken dress. My black hair hangs lankly against my skull. The bags under my eyes are as dark as Daisy’s, and the makeup she put on me earlier is smudged beyond repair. All I want is a long, hot shower and bed.

I’m about to ask Daisy to call for a car because my phone died hours ago, when a long black sedan pulls up beside us.

I step aside, so I don’t block the path of whoever is in the car, when the front window rolls down slowly.

Daisy leans into the open window. “Hey,” she says to someone. “Are you the driver now?”

“Good morning, Miss Daisy. It’s been a long time.”

“So, is the big guy in the back?” She turns to look at me and winks while I gape.

The sternly handsome, dark-haired man in the driver’s seat smiles fondly at her. “See for yourself. I heard you needed a ride.”

“You just want to say you’re driving Miss Daisy,” she teases with a laugh. “Get it? It never gets old!” Daisy turns. “Ready to go?” She says it casually, as if getting picked up by a man in a strange car after spending the night at the police station is an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is for her. But me? Not so much.

“Erm, Daisy? What’s going on? Are we getting abducted by the mafia as payback for them springing us from jail? ’Cause I have to call Audrey and tell her I can’t come to work this week if that’s the case.” I know I sound cranky, but I’m tired and out of patience.

She flashes me a saucy look. “Are you ready for another adventure, Olivia?”

“No,” I say with certainty. “Abso-freaking-lutely not.”

“Too bad,” Daisy retorts as the back door swings open, and she steps into the darkened interior.

“Wait! Daisy!” I hiss, trying to stop her. This is the thing about being a writer. My imagination presents me with all sorts of scenarios—being abducted and sold as a sex slave is currently topping the list. She ignores me, so I have no choice but to crawl in after her. It’s the girl code.

Once in the car, I enter an alternate universe, one that’s dark, cool, and luxurious. There’s a bar in the corner with cut-glass decanters, and the scent of new leather and sandalwood engulfs my senses.

As my eyes adjust, I realize a man is sitting in the corner. My gaze shifts from large sneakers, up to long, strong legs encased in well-worn denim, and then to a wide, muscular chest emphasized by a dark gray T-shirt. I take in a strong jaw with a bristling of a five o’clock shadow, sensual lips, a straight, aquiline nose, and intense green eyes that burn over every part of my body.

Familiar eyes. Eyes I’ve been dreaming of this whole week.

“Wha-what are you doing here?”





CHAPTER 12





Olivia



Chase James looks just as shocked as me.

He whips his head from me to Daisy and back to me. “What’s going on? What are you doing here?” Chase asks in confusion. His gaze shifts to my body, gets snagged there, and then returns to my face.

I try to pull down my dress, but it doesn’t help. It now has too little fabric for too much body. When I dreamed that I’d someday see Chase James again, I hadn’t pictured this.

“Me?” I squeak as I swipe at my smudged eye makeup. “What are you doing here?” I repeat.

“Chase, meet my friend Olivia. Olivia, meet Chase James, my foster brother,” Daisy says. “Though, for some interesting reason, it seems like the two of you are already acquainted.” She tilts her head in question.

“You’re Daisy’s brother?”

“You’re Daisy’s friend?”

“Why didn’t you tell me Chase was your brother, the other day when I was—I, ah…never mind,” I mumble in mortification, not wanting to out myself as having searched him online.

“When what?” Chase asks, his eyes bright with interest.

“It must have slipped my mind.” Daisy stretches out her legs in the back of the car. “Maybe the same way it slipped your mind that you already knew Chase. And you still haven’t said how you know him?”

I try to angle my knees demurely, in such a way that I don’t flash anyone because of my teeny tiny dress, but I only succeed in brushing against Chase’s knees in the tight space. “He, um…” Shit. Busted.

“I stopped for coffee a few times where she works. It’s only a few blocks from the Heights,” he explains smoothly, omitting our conversations and The Kiss.

“And you didn’t stop by my house?” Daisy asks, sounding hurt.

“It was early in the morning, Daisy. I just stopped after a run. You wouldn’t even have been awake. I called you last night, remember? I wanted to surprise you today with a visit. I had no idea you’d be calling me for a get-out-of-jail emergency.”

“And you failed to mention this?” Daisy asks me pointedly.

“It didn’t come up!”

Daisy snorts.

“Also, I thought he wouldn’t want anyone to know. It didn’t seem right to broadcast it,” I defend. “And you didn’t mention who your brother is either.”

Chase runs a hand through his hair. “That’s not Daisy’s fault. We try to keep our foster-sibling relationship quiet.”

“But why?” I ask.

Instead of answering, he looks at Daisy.

“The first reason is because Chase is insanely overprotective.” Daisy rolls her eyes.

“With good reason,” he shoots back.

“It’s a long story,” Daisy says to me, interrupting whatever else Chase was about to say. “Too long to get into now, but I promise I’ll share it with you one day. Basically, the few times people have found out about our connection, they’ve tried to sell the story to the tabloids.”

“That’s terrible!” I exclaim. “But I would never do that.”

Chase massages the back of his neck, bringing my attention to the veins on his forearms. How can forearms be so attractive? But when my eyes meet his, I feel guilty for getting distracted. His eyes are stormy. Clearly, this is a topic that upsets him.

“It’s not just a matter of trusting someone’s motives,” he says, his brows drawing down in a frown. “If it accidentally gets out, or if I’m photographed with Daisy, her life will be splashed all over social media and the tabloids, with lies dragging her down. No one even knows my real background or that I was a foster kid in the system. So, if they found out about Daisy, the press will be all over the story, and she’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

“You can’t protect everyone and everything, Chase,” Daisy says. “I’m not afraid of the tabloids or rumors. I’m also not as young and stupid as I was that summer I stayed with you. What happened then never will again. I promise.”

Chase snorts. “You’re telling me I don’t need to protect you anymore when I just kept you from being arrested? What the hell do you think you were doing? Do you know how many favors Duncan had to call in to get you out? These little stunts have got to stop, Daisy. And you’re not to involve Olivia in them. Do you understand?”

I look from Daisy to Chase and back again, not knowing what to say. I’m a little worried that Daisy will get mad at Chase’s heavy-handed reproach. Daisy, mad, is fearsome to behold.

But instead of getting angry, she surprises me by leaning over and hugging him tight. “I’m sorry, Chase. Thank you for rescuing us.”

He stares at her, as if he’s not sure whether to hug her back or to shake her. Finally, his tight posture relaxes and his lips quirk in an affectionate half-smile. He ruffles her hair and gives her a quick kiss to the top of her head.

“I missed you, Daisy, even though you’re a menace.”

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