I frown at my laptop screen. I’m not sure what to think about what I just read, so I read it again.

Dear Cameron,

Arrogant. Rude. Asshole.

That pretty summed up my first impression of you. The next few times we met, that impression didn’t change much.

James was the total opposite of you. He was funny, sweet, and kind. I woke up, excited for his messages and went to sleep thinking about him. I dreamt about him and the more I learned about him, the more I wanted to know. I told myself I wouldn’t get past the point where I was in too deep, not before we met at least. Then before I knew it, I was there.

And then I learned James was you.

At first, I was angry. So, so angry, but then I realized you couldn’t have made that part up. Everything I thought I felt for James, I was really feeling for you. Finding out that it was you I’d been sharing those moments with? It broke my heart because I knew you weren’t capable of feeling what I was feeling. Every bit of hope I had invested in us crumbled in that one split second.

When I saw you sitting at that bar, I felt like my world had fallen apart. Because I was falling in love with you. I don’t even know if you’ll read this or if you’ll care, but I had to get it out. Maybe now I can move on and forget about you.

Darcy.

I sit back on the couch, not sure what to do with this.

Is she being serious?

This is the last thing I expected to find in my inbox, especially for an email account I haven’t checked since I replied to her ad. I’m not even sure what possessed me to check it today, but I did. We’ve barely been chatting for a week. She couldn’t possibly have fallen that hard, that quickly, could she? I shake my head. No. No fucking way. She’s obviously just trying to mess with me.

But then she did kiss me…

I click back, remembering there were another couple of emails waiting for me from Darcy. Actually, make that four, because in the ten minutes I’d been reading the first email, another two had dropped in, plus five texts messages waiting on my phone.

What the fuck is going on?

I run my hands through my hair and groan, anxiety pooling in my stomach. Every guy is secretly terrified of finding the crazy girl and I think I’ve just hit the jackpot.

My mind is screaming do not engage her, but she’s going to be family soon. I can’t just ignore her, right? I have to reply with something. But if do I reply, it might just encourage her and lead to something even worse. I rub my head and sigh. I’ve got no idea what to do. The only thing I do know is that it’s too early to deal with this. I stand up and stalk back down to my room, slamming the door shut.

Maybe if I go back to bed, all of this will just resolve itself.

I roll over and crack open my eyes when the doorbell rings.

What the fuck…

I fumble for my phone to check the time, but I’m distracted by the fifteen fucking messages she’s sent in the last two hours. Fifteen? What could she possibly have to say that warrants fifteen text messages? I’m not sure I want to know. I’m too afraid to check my email, because God knows how many of them there are waiting for me.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

The doorbell rings again, reminding me that that’s what woke me up in the first place. I jump up, throw some pants on and then walk down to answer it. I open it to find a guy who looks way too happy to be delivering flowers. He holds up a bouquet of roses and beams at me.

“Well, someone is popular,” he chuckles. “This is our largest posy.”

“Lucky me,” I mutter.

He hands me the flowers. I frown and scribble my name on the electronic pad he holds out for me.

“You have a great day,” he comments, grinning at me.

Unlikely, given how it’s starting off.

I shake my head. I don’t even have to look. I know they’re going to be from her. But still, I decide to torture myself by opening the card. Just as I thought, it’s from Darcy.

C: If you reject me, my heart will shrivel up and die, just like these flowers will. Love D xx.

“What the actual fuck?” I growl.

Is she serious? I laugh. No, this can’t be real. I toss the flowers on the counter and study the card again. It’s just as ridiculous the second time reading it. I'm torn over what to do here. She’s clearly unstable. Forget working at Emerald Lodge, I think she needs to be admitted. Do I reply or ignore her?

The doorbell rings again, cutting through my thoughts. I jump up and walk over to it. I consider not answering, but then for whatever strange reason, I do. Another delivery guy stands there, this one carrying a huge basket of candy.

“Cameron Hunter?” he asks.

Sighing, I nod in defeat and then I sign my name.

“Thanks,” I mutter, taking the basket from him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had someone look so annoyed when accepting one of these,” he chuckles. “I mean who doesn’t like candy?”

I close the door in his face. These upbeat, annoyingly happy, delivery guys are starting to annoy me more than Darcy is. I put it on the counter with the flowers and then stand back to study them. There's another note sticking out of the basket, so I reach forward and snatch it out.

Cameron,

Is there a reason you’re ignoring me? I’m getting worried that I haven’t heard from you. I thought you’d at least thank me for the flowers or acknowledge one of my emails.

You’re making me nervous and I don’t think rationally when I’m nervous…

Anyway, call me when you can. Can’t wait to speak to you :)

Darcy xx

She's contradicting herself she's all over the place, in the same way that one email throws abuse at me, and the next is five pages of apologies and I love you’s. I laugh, because this is getting out of hand. The only thing I’m not sure about is what to do. Maybe I should try and talk to her? But if I say the wrong thing and make things worse, I’ll be even more fucked.

I jump at the sound of the doorbell ringing again. That fucking thing is going to give me nightmares tonight. I don't answer this time. Or when it rings again fifteen minutes later, or twenty minutes after that. I’m so on edge that every tiny noise has me jumping out of my skin.

Maybe I should tell Dad.

He might talk to her for me, or at the very least, arrange a restraining order. No. I haven't turned to my father for help in over four years and I’m not going to start now.

I stare at my phone as it flashes on the coffee table. Of course it’s her. The ringing stops, and an alert pops up. Sixteen missed calls. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I know the longer I go without answering, the angrier she’ll get, but I can’t answer. If I speak to her right now, I’ll say something to make this a million times worse. I need advice.

What better person to give it to me than the man who’s been stalked three times?

I leave my phone on the arm of the couch and stomp out the door, and he to Lewis’ place down the hall. I bang on his door continuously until he opens it. He frowns at me.

“What the hell is up with you?” he asks.

“Don't ask,” I mutter. “Do not fucking ask.”

He waves me in, so I stomp over his couch and sit down. I sigh and lean back, resting against the cushions. Lewis wheels over. He eyes me cautiously, like I’ve lost my mind. Which is kind of ironic, considering the morning I’ve had.

“Okay,” he shrugs. “I won’t ask then.”

“She's mental,” I mutter, shaking my head. “A nut case. She's completely crazy and I’ve got no idea what to do.”

“Hold-up, who is?” he asks, confused.

“It’s a long story,” I sigh.

“So, explain it?” he says. “You didn’t come over here just for my company.”

“It’s Darcy,” I grumble. “She found out that I was messing with her and she lost control.”

“She’s angry?” he guesses, a knowing smile on his face.

I laugh bitterly. “No. God, I wish, because angry I can handle. She’s completely obsessed with me. I've been fielding off emails and calls from her all day. And man, she even kissed me,” I mutter.

He starts howling. “She kissed you?” he hoots. I nod grimly. “Well? How was it?”

“Well, the kiss was pretty good, but the rest of it…” I shake my head. “She's completely unstable—” I pause when someone knocks on the door. “fuck,” I hiss. “How would she even know I’m here? Is she watching me or something?”

“Okay, now you’re just being paranoid,” Lewis chuckles.

He’s still laughing as he wheels himself over to the door. I hide around the corner, straining to listen to the conversation. I’m ninety percent sure that he’s right; I’m just being paranoid, but I’m still on edge.

He comes back in—alone, thank God—with a small box on his lap. I narrow my eyes and stare at it suspiciously. He chuckles when he sees the anxious look on my face.

“I went out with this chick last year? Narelle?” he says.

I nod, remembering the short blonde with way too much perkiness.

“Well she went on and on about how I never got her anything,” Lewis continues. “So she came over one day, I greeted her at the door in my chair with a box like this in my lap. Her eyes widened, she followed me into the living room. I told her she had to kneel down in front of me, so I could hold it or it might jump out.”

“No,” I say with a laugh. “Please don’t finish this story.”

“She was so sure that I’d gotten her a kitten or a puppy. She was nearly jumping up and down with excitement. She got down on her knees, lifted the lid and…” His grin widens when I groan. “What? I wasn’t lying. Something did jump out.”

“Fuck, you’re an idiot,” I say, but I’m laughing. “And don’t think I’m gonna open that while it’s sitting on your lap. I’m not as easy as Narelle.”

“Fine. I guess I don’t need to tell you that this is for you?” He grins and tosses it at me.

“Jesus, man,” I growl, lurching forward to catch it. “Be careful. It’s probably a bomb or something. How the hell did she know I was here?”

“She didn’t. The delivery guy had the wrong apartment, but I told him I was you.” He winks at me. “It’s the chair. People get nervous around it. He practically tossed it at me and ran.” He nods at me. “Go on, then. Open it.”

I take a deep breath and read the card first.

Cam,

Have you been getting my emails and messages? I hope you’re not ignoring me. I don’t think I can handle that…Anyway, I just wanted to show you that I’m always with you, even when I’m not there. Please call me?

Love

Darcy

I hand it to Lewis, who starts laughing uncontrollably. I shake my head at him then reach into the box and pull out a teddy bear. I examine it from every angle. A red button on his left paw reads ‘press me,’ but honestly? I’m scared to. I glance at Lewis, who’s still laughing then I look back at the harmless little stuffed toy I’m holding in my hands.

How much damage it’s going to cause me if I press that little button?

“She’s really losing it,” I murmur.

“Just press the damn hand,” Lewis orders.

I glare at him. “Fine, but if this thing explodes, it’s on you.”

I press the little paw, then frown at it as it starts awkwardly dancing in my hands.

“What the fuck…” I mutter.

His mouth starts moving and Richard Marx’s “I’ll Be Right Here Waiting for You” begins to play. I frown, because this is some freaky shit. The song almost sounds like it’s playing at a distance away, like in horror movies, where they’re trapped at a deserted carnival, but then music begins playing. I shudder, because that’s exactly what this reminds me of.

“I think she’s trying to send you a message,” Lewis chuckles. “The question is, are you going to listen?”

“Fuck, what do I do?” I mutter. I drop the toy onto the couch and walk over to the window. “How far is she going to go with this?”

“I don’t know. Man, I am glad I am not you.” Lewis shrugs helplessly. “I wish I could help you, but you might need to ride it out. Put up with it, don’t upset her, and she’ll be onto something else before you know it.”

“I need to talk to her,” I decide. “Maybe if I let her down gently and apologize again, she’ll back off? I can't have this kind of shit happening when I start work tomorrow.”

“I think talking to her is a bad idea,” Lewis calls out after me.

Maybe it is, but it's the only idea I've got moment.