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I’m pretty sure he can read my thoughts by the way he’s staring at me, but I can’t seem to care.

“You survived cancer together?” My voice breaks saying the word. My head fills with images of a fourteen-year-old boy fighting for his life.

“We kicked cancer’s ass. Together, we were a great team. Neither of us ever gave up hope. We encouraged each other on our darkest days and celebrated the smallest victories.”

“She sounds like an amazing person. I had no idea of the depth of the friendship.”

“A lot of people can’t understand. She declared we were best friends. No question, no arguing. That was it. We’ve been pretty much inseparable ever since. Our families were already close, but now that she’s married to Shaw, we’re truly a blended group.”

I clutch his shirt tighter and try to burrow deeper into Nick’s chest. He lazily rubs circles on my arm and kisses the top of my head.

“That’s one of the most beautiful stories I’ve ever heard.”

“So why are you crying?”

“Because I can’t imagine the heartache and worry. Your families must have felt so helpless.”

“Yeah, but you want to know something? Throughout the years, the bad memories have faded, and I remember things with a more open perspective. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked—the chemo, the tests, the waiting... all of it—but when we both hit remission, we were on the road to full recovery. I had her, and she had me. It’s been that way for over ten years. That’s why people think we have the voodoo ESP, because we can pretty much feel when the other has something going on.”

I start to feel sick again, knowing the bond between Bizzy and Nick is almost too much to think about.

“Look at me, Grace.” He tries to lift my chin, but I press back, not wanting him to see my undoubtedly splotchy face.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” I say my fear out loud, not able to stop myself.

He tries again to lift my face, but I fight him, wiggling so my butt is now between his legs and my arms are wrapped around him like a vice.

My new position lasts a millisecond before I’m flying back on the sofa, and his body comes over mine. I’m now forced to let go of him. He positions himself with his back to the couch and pulls my body as close as possible. When I raise my eyes to his, I suck in a deep breath. He’s staring at me, his eyes full of determination.

“She’s going to like you, Grace. She loves me, and she wants me to be happy. You make me happy.”

“I make you happy?” My stomach starts to do a twisty-turny motion as my skin starts to prickle.

“Babe, I’ve never dated in my life. The only girl I ever wanted to date slipped through my fingers and ditched me. For years, no one has even turned my head. My life has been football and family, and I’ve been fine with that. But the moment my eyes landed on you at the foundation dinner, things changed. You’re almost all I think about. For days, I’ve had to force myself to concentrate on the field. Then today was pretty much torture, leaving you at the gallery, especially after getting my first taste of you.”

The skin tingling intensifies all the way down to my bones. Each of his words seep into my skin, and I fight to control my racing heart.

“I didn’t ditch you,” is the first thing that comes out of my mouth.

His eyes crinkle, and his lips start to twitch. “You ditched me.”

“I didn’t.”

“Sweet Peach, you did. And for two years, it was not at all funny. But now that we’re here, you’re in my arms, and we’ve moved past it, we can joke about it.”

“You’ve never dated?”

“Are we going to dis

sect everything I said sentence by sentence?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, well, did you hear the part about today being torture and getting my first taste of you?”

“It’s slowly processing.”

He starts to laugh, his chest shaking against mine. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

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