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I find Brooke walking through the gardens. She doesn’t hear me come up to her, so I’m able to swoop in front and cut her off. She glares at me.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I say.

“My problem? Are you kidding me…” She laughs. Then her laughter fades and she stares at me. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” I snap. “I know you’ve had it in for me ever since we met, and I know you’re a bitch. I was nothing but nice to you, but it was never good—”

“Jake is in love with you.”

“Jake?” I laugh hysterically, because that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard. And then I realize she’s serious. “What? No, you’ve got the wrong idea. Jake’s not in love with me.”

She smiles sadly, tears forming in her eyes.

“Maybe we should talk,” she says.

We sit in the bar, opposite each other. She hasn’t said anything yet and neither have I. I’m waiting for her, because she seems to be going through some kind of moment that I really don’t want to interrupt. She looks up and gives me a sad smile. Ironically, I think it’s the first genuine smile she’s ever given me.

“I found a letter that he wrote to you a long time ago.”

“What letter?”

“He never sent it, but it was basically a love letter. He was very detailed about how he felt about you.”

She studies the top of the table, running her fingernail over someone’s initial, indented into the surface.

“He was also very clear that I was a distraction.”

“When was this?” I still can’t get my head around it. Jake was in love with me? How did I not see that?

“Just after he and I.” She stops to compose herself. “Just after we became serious.”

Oh shit. That was around five or six weeks into their relationship.

I think back about our friendship. Were their signs that I missed? Did I lead him on? I shake my head, because this is impossible to understand. The number of times I’d slept in his bed. God, a few times, I’d even been naked. That was me being comfortable with my friend. I had no idea he was in love with me.

He probably wacked himself off, while I was lying there.

I shake my head. I can’t think back and analyze things. I’ll go crazy.

“When did you find the letter?” I ask her.

“About six months after he wrote it. I was completely invested by then.” She laughed. “It was during the move.”

“Why did you stay, then?” I ask softly.

“Because he told me he was over you and I believed him.”

“But now you don’t?”

“No. I don’t. When he found out that you were seeing Liam, he changed. Just seeing the shift in his behavior, the way he got his back up whenever your name was mentioned. I think it made me realize that he wasn’t over you at all. I think he actually believed that he was over you, but he wasn’t only kidding himself. He was kidding me, too.”

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. Instead, I play with the bottom of my glass, wishing…hell, I don’t know what the hell I’m wishing.

“I have to go,” I mutter, standing up.

“Okay.” Brooke smiles at me. “I think I’ll stay here for a bit. Becca?

I look back at her.

“Make sure he’s okay for me?”

I nod. “I will.”My whole body feels numb as I walk back through the hotel. I keep going over it in my mind, but I don’t get anywhere. I need to speak to Jake. I need him to tell me what is going on, or I’ll lose my mind trying to figure it out.

I stand outside his room, trying to work up the courage to knock. What keeps stopping me is the voice in the back of my head asking the question…what if he is in love with me? I frown, then step forward and loudly knock three times. Jake opens the door. He looks into my eyes, long enough to confirm that I know.

“She told you, didn’t she?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask.

“Because it wasn’t any of your business,” he snaps, then pushes past me and storms off.

I shake my head. So much for getting answers. Now what do I do?I head back downstairs to my room, because I’m exhausted and I just need a break. Liam lies on the bed, engrossed in an infomercial. He looks up when I walk in and smiles at me.

“If you hadn’t just gotten back when you did, I would’ve ordered four of these.”

I crawl onto the bed and into his waiting arms, sighing when he wraps them around me. His warmth, his smell, the feel of his heartbeat against my back…they’re all things I love about him.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I ask.

“Only since today.”

“What do I do?” I roll onto my back and gaze up at him, desperate for him to tell me how to fix this.

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