When Willow finally stripped down and slid between the sheets, she could not keep Olivia's words from repeating over and over in her mind as she tried to sleep, no matter how hard she tried. Instead, she wound up lying in her bed, alone in her room, staring up at the ceiling, wishing she had the guts to speak to Benson. She sat behind him all night at the hotel bar, listening as he and the other authors shared their stories, while laughing at each other and their experiences. Stalker. That's what Olivia called her, and truth be told, that's what she was. Even at the bar, she kept in the background, happy to just sit and watch without participating. She was there, always there, but never a part of anything.
She couldn't risk it, being a part of his world. It only took one rejection to brin
