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“Because what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t think I can handle another failed relationship right now.”

“Okay, but what if it does?” she retorts. “What if he’s the love of your life, and you push him away and right into another woman’s arms?”

Just the image of that makes me want to stab someone.

“I’m scared to fall in love again, Oakley. Scared I’ll get hurt or that my heart can’t love again. Scared I’ll be the one to hurt him. Scared for many reasons, honestly. But with that being said, these feelings I have for him can’t be ignored for much longer. It’s rooted deep, and the more I try to ignore it, the harder it becomes to be around him. I want to lose myself with him. I want to so damn bad, but I’m so hesitant to cross those lines.”

“You’ve said time and again how he’s a good, decent guy. He’s done more for you than Justin ever has. Plus, he seems to always have your best interest in mind.”

“He does,” I agree. “I hate that I keep comparing him to my ex, though. I wish I could permanently block him out of my brain.”

“Go a few rounds with Easton, and I’m sure he’ll push him out of there.”

I burst out laughing. “Of course you’d say that.”

“Well, you’re the one who keeps saying he’s hot as hell,” she adds.

I snort. “I did have an immediate attraction to him from the day we met. But I mean, who wouldn’t? Easton is sex on legs. Those green eyes, dark hair, big muscles. You should see him surf. He’s the perfect man and deserves a woman who’s perfect just like him. I can’t be that. I’m Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality who tries walking in heels for the first time and falls flat on her face. That’s me.”

“Really impressing me with these references, Tate.” She giggles. “But ya know what? Maybe you’re perfect to him? Just because your versions of perfect look a certain way doesn’t mean his are the same. Justin was a fucking asshole and tried to destroy your psyche. Not all men are like that. From what you’ve told me about Easton, he’s not like that either.” I can hear someone call her name, and she says something back to them. When she’s in her car, she continues. “You’re a catch, sis. Don’t let your fears hold you back from something that could potentially make you really happy for the first time in years.”

I swallow hard, fully taking in her words and knowing she’s probably right, but I still have my doubts. “He has his whole life ahead of him and—”

“And deserves someone who he wants to spend the rest of his life with, right? That could be you, but you have to take the chance. Let’s say it doesn’t work out. What do you lose?”

“A friend. A job. A place to live. Everything.”

“You really think Easton would fire you or kick you out if you two dated and it didn’t work out? I doubt he’s that heartless.”

“No, but it’d be awkward as hell. I wouldn’t want to be the ex who is still in their lives and sees them every day, especially if feelings were still involved. I don’t know if I could handle him being with another woman after he was with me. I’d probably feel some jealous rage,” I admit, which even takes me by surprise.

“Spoken like a woman who knows what and who she wants.”

“I do want him. So much.” I whimper, then fall back on the bed and watch the ceiling fan go round and round.

“Give him a chance then. Give yourself a chance to be happy again. The last thing you want me to do is fly to Florida to kick your ass, so stop being so damn stubborn. Come on. You’re smarter than this, but maybe your little sister needs to come shake some sense into you.”

I chuckle, knowing she probably would. “You’re right.”

“As I usually am,” she sasses. “Sometimes, you have to take risks to reap the rewards. I just have a good feeling about this. Honestly, I can’t wait to be the maid of honor in your wedding.”

“Oh now you have me marrying him?”

“Yep, that’s right. And I can’t wait to tell you I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I tell her. “We’ll see about that. Not sure I’ll ever get married again, though.”

“I guess I can understand that, but your name would sound so cute as Mrs. Easton Belvedere,” she sing-songs, and I cackle at her dramatics. “Just promise me you’ll think about what I said.”

I smile. “I promise. And thank you.”

“For what?” I hear her car start.

“For being the best damn sister in the world. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably be depressed. I mean, I’d be because I’m pretty badass,” she states confidently.

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