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Was that what Cam was doing? I didn’t want to believe it. I thought he was a good person with a pure soul. I hated myself for doubting him, for even considering that Cam could be one of those kinds of people. But I was so frazzled and upset at everything that was going on that I couldn’t think straight.

I ran my hands through my hair. I had to hold myself back from pulling it out by the roots. “Mark, just go.”

“Ami, come on…”

I gestured to his car. “Mark, go. Go see your girlfriend, and have fun at your convention. I can’t talk to you right now.”

He crossed his arms, staring me down. “If we can’t talk about this now, then when?”

I threw my arms up. I couldn’t deal with any more of this. “I don’t know, Mark. Maybe I’ll just see you at Thanksgiving. Assuming we can still be civilized together then.” Our family had a history of drama around the holidays. Some years, I'd almost wanted to skip Christmas and Thanksgiving, just to avoid the inevitable problems that always seemed to spring up. It looked like this year was going to be another crazy one for the Cole household.

He opened his mouth to protest, but I turned my back on him. I went into the apartment and slammed the door shut, then locked it for good measure.

I leaned against the door, fighting the tears that were already coming. I slammed a fist against the door. Between Cam going behind my back, and Mark coming down here to intervene in things that weren’t his business, I was stretched too thin, and I couldn’t handle anymore.

I looked up a moment later and saw Cam standing in the hallway. He wore a concerned expression, and he stood there like he was ready to move forward, to come to me, to wrap me in his arms. But he was respecting my space, waiting to see if I wanted that.

I held my arms out to him. He came to me, wrapping me up in his embrace.

Even though he’d lied to me, I couldn’t stay mad at Cam. I knew he was trying to help, trying to mend fences so we could make our relationship work. Sometimes he could be an idiot about how he went about things, but I knew his heart was in the right place.

It was the same way with my brother. Trying to help, but messing things up.

It was no wonder these two used to be best friends.

“What do you want to do?” Cam asked, holding me close and stroking my hair.

“In the long run?” I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“How about just for tonight?”

I looked up at Cam, smiling through my tears. “Just keep holding me,” I said.

And he did. All night long.

Chapter 8

Cameron

I glanced at Ami in the passenger seat of the car. She looked lovely, but professional, wearing a sky blue blouse and a long, straight skirt. Her hair was pulled up off her shoulders, drawing my eye to the curve of her neck. She looked gorgeous, and if we weren’t on the way to her job interview, I would have wanted to pull the car over right then and take her into the backseat.

She caught me looking at her. She arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said, turning my eyes back to the road.

She pursed her lips.

I chuckled. “I was just thinking that I’d definitely hire you.”

“Oh. Uh-huh. ‘Hire’ me. Sure.” She laughed. “I bet that’s exactly what you were thinking.

I laughed, my face heating up a bit.

“Tell me not to be nervous,” she said.

“Don’t be nervous.”

“How can you say that?” She smacked me on the arm. “This is the first real job interview I’ve had in over a month. I’m going to blow it.”

“You’ll do fine,” I said. “You’re bright, you’re beautiful, and they’re going to love you.”

“But I don’t know anything about cars!”

I turned down the road that led to our destination. “But this is what you studied for, right? To work in a museum.”

She pulled down the sun visor to check herself in the mirror, making some small adjustments to her clothes and hair. “Yeah, an art museum. I never thought I’d be interviewing at an antique car museum.”

“Hey now,” I said, holding up a finger. “Classic cars are art.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “I suppose you’re right. It can’t be that different.”

“Foot in the door, right?” I said. “You can get your start here, then move up to an art museum after you’ve got some experience on your resume.”

“Right.” She nodded, but she still looked nervous. I wondered if it was more than just the job interview keeping her worried. As far as I knew, she hadn’t talked to her brother since their big fight. I still blamed myself for that, even if Ami told me that it wasn’t really my fault.

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