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“She’s married,” Jagger said, speaking up. It hadn’t been a question, and I could hear the sympathy in his tone.

“What? No, she’s—wait, how do you know?” Grey asked, then looked back to me.

I ground my teeth and looked away from them for a second, and Jagger took the opportunity to continue talking.

“Knox looks how I felt every day of the seven years that you were with Ben.”

At the mention of Grey’s late fiancé, I automatically glanced in her direction to make sure she was okay. He had died suddenly just days before their wedding was supposed to happen three years ago. But instead of watching her break down, as I had so many times before, she just looked at me like she understood and felt sorry for me . . . and I knew her husband was to thank for that.

Jagger, Grey, and Ben had all been best friends growing up, and Jagger had been in love with Grey forever. When Ben had died, Jagger continued to be her best friend and help her through two years of grieving until Grey realized she was in love with him, too. It had been an easy transition for them, and it was obviously the best thing for Grey. I would always be thankful to Jagger for it—as I knew Graham and Deacon were.

If anyone knew how I felt, it was Jagger. He’d waited nine years for the girl he loved, and I’d been waiting seven. The only difference was Grey had never known that Jagger loved her, and Harlow had always known how I felt about her . . . and she’d chosen someone else.

“Is she, Knox?” Grey asked, her eyebrows pinched together like she was worried about what my answer would be. “Is she married?”

“Of course she is . . .”

“Knox,” she whispered, and stood to take a step toward me, but I stepped back.

“He is why she didn’t choose me.” Grey tried to take another step toward me, this time with her arms outstretched, and again I took another step back. “Don’t.”

“Why?”

“If you do, then I know that it really is over.”

Grey’s face morphed from sympathy to worry. The room was silent for a minute before she said, “She’s married. It is over.”

I was shaking my head before she’d gotten it all out. “You didn’t see her. You don’t understand.”

“Knox.” Now her voice was stern. “You cannot try to break up her marriage.”

“I’m not, but you don’t understand. She started crying as soon as she saw me, Grey, I know she—”

“I always had your back when you were waiting for her to be old enough, but this is different. You can’t do this. If she started crying when she saw you, then she has her own issues she needs to sort out, and you need to stay away from her while she does.” I started to talk, but she cut me off. “What are you going to do? Have an affair with her and be happy with that?”

“Grey,” I snapped, but to be honest, I didn’t know what my answer would have been. All I knew was that I still wanted Harlow, and she was so close.

“If she’s the kind of girl who would do that, then maybe Graham and Deacon were right about her all along. Maybe you were just a game to her, and maybe you still are.”

“No—” I began.

“Yes.”

“No, Grey, it can’t be a game. I can’t be.”

Grey breathed out heavily through her nose, and her gold eyes narrowed at me for a few moments before she was able to calm herself. “You even agreed with them when she ended it,” she reminded me with a whisper.

My stare dropped to the floor, and my head shook slowly, but not in denial. “Seeing her today . . . it brought back everything. I remember how it felt to be near her, to talk to her, just to have her—have her be mine. There’s no way to think that I was a game after being reminded how all that felt.”

None of us said anything for a few tense moments as Grey and I stared each other down. When Grey realized I wasn’t going to say anything else, a hint of sadness fell on her face and she said, “This is dangerous, Knox. She?

?s married.” She emphasized the last word, as if trying to make me understand the fact. As if I hadn’t already thought a hundred times today about what the rings on Harlow’s finger meant.

“She’s broken, Grey. I could see it, I could see how unhappy she is no matter how hard she tried to hide it.” Grey opened her mouth, a mix of irritation and doubt on her face, but I kept talking. “No, before you say anything, that’s not something I tricked myself into seeing. I saw her as soon as I walked into the coffee shop, and couldn’t stop staring at the girl who looked equally beautiful and dead.”

“Knox,” Grey whispered.

“She’s so broken I didn’t even realize it was Harlow until I was about to walk past her.”

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