And there was no point in saying anything else.

By early evening I was a walking zombie. Functioning on four hours of sleep was proving more than a little difficult. The fact that I wasn’t sleeping was making me extremely edgy.

I strode across campus with my head down. I had never been an overly social individual, but now, after everything that had happened with Maxx, I was even less inclined to raise my head and make eye contact with anyone.

I still felt as though people were looking at me. I knew that I was being paranoid and more than a little narcissistic to think people would be at all interested in my life. But I couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that they all knew.

I was trying to walk as quickly as possible past the psychology building, when I was enveloped by a swarm of people filtering out the front door.

I instantly recognized the faces around me.

It was the campus addictions support group.

Crap.

I tucked my chin into my coat and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Unfortunately, playing the part of Miss Invisible was an epic fail.

“Hey, Aubrey!” I gritted my teeth and wondered how pathetic it would look to run away as fast as my legs could carry me.

“Hey, Twyla,” I said, trying for a smile but accomplishing only something close to a grimace. I nodded at her friend Lisa, another member of the support group I had been co-facilitating until a few weeks ago. I wondered, not for the first time, how Kristie had explained my absence.

I soon found out.

“Sorry about your personal issues,” Twyla said with a touch of condescending scorn. I had never really connected to anyone besides Maxx in the group. And that wasn’t the sort of rapport a counselor should ever have with a client. I was afraid of what that really said about me and my ability to perform in a therapeutic capacity.

“Personal issues?” I asked stupidly.

Twyla and Lisa exchanged a look. It was loaded with suspicion.

“Well, that’s why Kristie said you weren’t in group anymore. You know, ‘personal issues,’ ” Lisa chimed in, lifting her fingers in air quotes.

I cleared my throat to delay my response.

“Well, I um . . .” I stumbled inarticulately.

Lisa and Twyla exchanged looks again. They really were the epitome of the bitchy sorority girls. With their perfect hair, glossy smiles, and impeccable manicures, they carried themselves with a confidence that came only to the effortlessly cool and attractive. But to look at them you’d never know they were as fucked up as the rest of us.

“Oh, I get it, it’s not something you want to talk about. Whatever.” Twyla waved her hands as if bored with the conversation. The rest of the group had already wandered off, but I couldn’t help but notice the hard stare of one particular person.

Evan and his downtrodden girlfriend, April, had taken their time as they passed by, Evan attempting his patented form of intimidation through narrowed eyes and clenched teeth.

“Do you know where Maxx is?” Lisa asked, snapping my attention away from Evan and April and back firmly into awkward territory.

“What do you mean?” I asked, and I hated the way my voice trembled, no matter how hard I tried to control it.

“He hasn’t been to group since before you left. You guys seemed tight, we just thought he may have said something to you.” Twyla eyed me closely. Her benign words barely concealed a deeper skepticism.

Maxx hadn’t been back to group.

I wasn’t surprised by the news, but it added to my unease. His whereabouts were proving to be more than a little concerning. His apartment was unlived in. He hadn’t been back to group. He had essentially disappeared.

Where the hell was Maxx? I squared my shoulders and gave them an insincere smile, not about to tip them off to my inner turmoil.

“I barely know Maxx. Why would I know where he is?” I lied with effort. My words sounded fake, even to me. I was a shitty liar. And I was pretty sure Twyla and Lisa weren’t fooled in the slightest.

“Okay, well, if you see him, tell him we were asking about him. I owe him a cup of coffee,” Lisa said, and I wanted to scratch her stupid eyes out. The irrational, jealous harpy inside reared her ugly head. I wanted to ask about this so-called owed cup of coffee. I wanted to grab handfuls of her hair and force her to tell me exactly how well she knew my ex-boyfriend.

Instead I shrugged, trying too hard to come off unconcerned.

“I don’t think I’ll see him,” I stated. I sounded irritated and defensive and way too obvious. If I had any sense of pride and self-preservation, I’d shut up and never utter Maxx Demelo’s name again.

So why did my traitorous heart thump his name wildly in my chest?

Maxx. Maxx. Maxx.

Lisa and Twyla traded a loaded look. “Okay, well, never mind, then. We must have been mistaken,” Lisa replied shortly, a smile as fake as my own plastered on her face. Twyla wiggled her fingers in my direction as the two walked away.

I let out a breath and looked up at the overcast sky.

Maxx, where are you?

Damn it! I hated that I was worried so much. I wished I could shut down and turn off the way I had always been able to do before.

But I knew I wouldn’t stop worrying or wondering. Maxx, even though he was absent from my life, was the most pressing thing on my mind.

What else was new?

“Aubrey, what are you doing here?” a voice asked with more than a hint of accusation.

Kristie Hinkle stopped in front of me. I hadn’t seen Kristie since our horrific meeting in which I was rightfully accused of my crimes. She looked less than thrilled to see me, but her professionalism stopped her from telling me to get lost.

“I was just walking by,” I explained.

“You’re not supposed to be interacting with group members,” she stated, as though needing to remind me of what I was and wasn’t supposed to be doing.

When I had first started co-facilitating the support group, I had admired Kristie. She had been eager to help me learn the ropes. But as time wore on I found her to be judgmental and unsympathetic to human failings. Particularly mine.

“I’m not interacting with anyone, Kristie. I was walking home when Twyla and Lisa asked me where I’ve been. I didn’t have a chance to really explain my personal issues,” I said, not able to suppress the thinly veiled sarcasm.

Kristie made a choking noise in the back of her throat that could have been a snort or a cough; I wasn’t really sure. I wanted to roll my eyes but thought better of it. There was no sense in adding more fuel to an already smoldering fire. Kristie shook her head and walked down the steps of the psychology building and started to pass by me. She stopped just before walking away and looked at me over her shoulder.

“Just remember that any infractions will be reported to Dr. Lowell and the Counseling Department. I don’t think either of us wants to be in that position again,” Kristie said, her voice firm and gruff, though I detected a note of regret on her face before she looked away. I opened my mouth to shoot back a response, but changed my mind.

“Have a good evening,” Kristie said tightly, starting to walk away.

Then, as if possessed by the devil, my mouth opened again and words poured out that were the absolute worst I could have said in that moment: “Has Maxx not been coming to group?”

Kristie’s shoulders went rigid, and her dull brown eyes flashed with disapproval. Why oh why had I asked her that question? Where was my common sense when I needed it?

But I couldn’t help it. I needed something . . . anything that would give an indication to Maxx’s whereabouts.

“Aubrey, that is extremely inappropriate for you to ask.” Kristie’s mouth turned down in censure. But my concern for Maxx outweighed any sense of pride or self-preservation.