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He blamed his inability to focus on the feel of her body. Not in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d actually ever hold Chelsea again, breathe in her warm scent from so close, experience again how her body felt, pressed against his. No wonder he couldn’t think.

They bumped into another couple and Jared started to apologize then saw who the couple was, and nodded instead.

Chelsea watched him, her honey-brown eyes thoughtful.

“Will seemed upset that Larry was here. You don’t look overjoyed. You were so close that spring break.” Chelsea pulled back, stared up at him. “Is there something I should’ve known that I didn’t?”

What could he say?

“Larry was in love with the girl I was dating when you and I met. He blamed me for her death.” The admission slipped from his mouth. Somehow he’d thought that saying the words out loud would sting, would bring back old memories. He felt nothing. Nothing but sadness for a life that had been lost too young, sadness that Laura had died upset, that their baby had died, because he would have been a good and faithful husband and a good father.

But caring for him had ultimately destroyed Laura.

If he really cared about Chelsea, he’d stay away from her.

Chelsea stiffened, her smile fading. “You were engaged when she died. I remember Will telling me when you got engaged. My heart nearly broke, but when she died I mourned for your loss, Jared.”

“A part of me died when she did,” he admitted.

Why had he said anything? He’d totally ruined the moment, and he’d probably never hold Chelsea again. Way too risky. So why had he spoiled the magic of just having her heart next to his? Was he trying to hang on to his guilt over Laura’s death? Over the death of their baby?

Chelsea bit into her lower lip, regarding him. “You loved her that much?”

“I loved Laura from the day she moved into the house next door to mine. We were in the first grade.” True, but that love had been more about deep friendship toward the end. Which was why he’d felt so guilty over the way he’d reac

ted to seventeen-year-old Chelsea. In many ways he’d betrayed Laura—unintentionally, but a betrayal all the same.

Color heightening her cheeks, Chelsea shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me? When we met, you never acted like you were taken. I was young and naïve and totally out of my league where you were concerned. But if you’d hinted that you were in love with someone else, I never would have made such a fool of myself. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I should have mentioned Laura, but the truth is I’m a guy. Right or wrong, I liked your attention.”

“You let me fall in love with you, broke my heart.” Her gaze lowered and long, soot-colored lashes shielded her eyes.

“I was a jerk. Still am.”

“I was a joke to you, wasn’t I? My affections a way to amuse yourself?” Disenchantment and hurt shone in her eyes.

“Never,” he told her, lifting her chin so she had to look at him. “You were a beautiful young woman. You still are. I was flattered by your attention.”

Her eyes searched his and he could see her remorse even before she whispered, “I’m sorry, Jared. Sorry you lost Laura. Sorry I put you in an awkward position all those years ago. Sorry I’ve made things awkward for you now by inviting Larry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He stroked his thumb over her chin. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have flirted with you.”

He had flirted with her, but he hadn’t been able to stay away. He’d sought her out, wanting to hear her laughter, see her smile, feel the way his heart raced when she was near. All things he’d had no right to feel when he had been in a relationship with Laura. Laura. His eyes closed as he recalled the lovely girl he’d first given his heart to. She’d been his friend, his lover. Until he’d met Chelsea he’d never questioned spending his whole life with Laura, had never imagined there could be more than what he and Laura had shared.

Chelsea had shattered that illusion and no matter how hard he’d tried to make things right between him and Laura, he hadn’t been able to. The truth was that if Laura hadn’t beaten him to the punch, told him she was pregnant, he’d have told her how he felt, that he wanted to see other people. For ten years he’d carried that burden in his heart, keeping all other emotions locked out.

He’d used his guilt, his loss, his pain to shield him from letting anyone else close. From letting thoughts of Chelsea seep in.

He needed to think of her as his enemy.

He was dancing with the enemy.

“How is it we’ve caused so much hurt, Jared?” She leaned her head against his shoulder and swayed to the music. He called himself every name in the book. What had he been thinking, to take Chelsea in his arms for a dance?

But she felt so good against him. Smelled so good.

“What are you doing, Jared?”

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