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She stops at the door. Smiles at Brendon. "Mr. Kane. You didn't have to come."

His eyes meet mine. He raises a brow. She doesn't know?

I shake my head. She doesn't. Not yet. But I'm going to tell her. I'm going to stop taking on the whole world by myself.

"I get a little protective of Emma," he says.

Mom nods. "I can imagine. She's a spitfire."

"You have no idea," he says.

Mom laughs. It's the first time she's laughed since I've been here. "Well, come in. We've already got a pot of coffee on." She looks out to the car. Waves. "Hey, Emma. Come in whenever you're ready."

Emma steps out of the passenger seat. Taps the key fob. The car beeps locked. Her eyes meet mine. She mouths I'm sorry. I think. She's far away.

"We'll put out the air mattress for you. And there's the couch. It's very comfortable." Mom leads Brendon into the kitchen.

"We have a hotel," he says.

"Nonsense. You've been so hospitable this year. Kaylee sent me pictures of her room. It's beautiful. And I remember your house. This is the least we could do."

His eyes meet mine. He raises a brow, offering me a chance to object.

I want him here. Fuck, I want him here so badly it hurts. But I want him here as mine. If he's not...

I don't know.

God, the sight of his dark eyes and his soft lips is enough to comfort me. To remind me that there are beautiful things in the world. That one day it's going to be okay.

"You should stay here," I say. "We have good coffee. Dad's obsessed."

He nods. "I'm sold."

Emma rushes in through the door. She presses it closed behind her, rests her suitcase against it.

She goes straight to me and throws her arms around me. "I'm so fucking sorry, Kay."

"Me too."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

She leans in to whisper. "And I'm sorry my brother is an idiot. He... I think he's going to come around. But I get it if you don't forgive him."

I don't know what I forgive. I'm not ready to ask myself that yet. I release Emma. "You want coffee?"

"Of course." She smiles. "You look good."

"You too."

She smacks her lips. "It's not too much?"

"That's in your vocabulary?" I tease.

Mom laughs. "Your hair is darling, Emma. I wish I could pull that off."

"You could, Mrs. Hart. Though I think purple would suit your complexion better. There's this great new brand with smokey colors. The purple would look fierce on you," Emma says.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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