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“Yeah, with you. You’re quiet and calm and I think he likes that. I think he sees what he wants for himself in you. Let him in, Cassie. Let him do what he needs to do to feel like he deserves you.”

“Why wouldn’t he deserve me?” My voice comes out sharp and irate because the idea that he feels or believes that he doesn’t deserve me is deplorable.

“His father is…he’s not like ours.” She confess

es, sighing and I can’t ignore the way her face twists. “He’s nothing like his father though. Believe me, if you knew the man you wouldn’t even think they share the same DNA.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know him, and I know that sooner or later he’s going to have some sort of moral trip and think that the best thing is to push you away. You need to be prepared for it so you can persevere and make him see sense.”

Her words make me feel sick. The idea that Leo could change his mind about me is almost as terrifying as having a gun pointed at my head.

“I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I’m doing. He overwhelms me.”

“Good news is that everything you’re feeling, he’s feeling too.” Picking the remainder of her half-eaten croissant apart, she laughs.

“How is that good news?”

“One, you can learn together, so you’re on even footing. Two, it means you care, and caring is half the battle. Trust me, some days I really have to grab hold of all the cares I have for your brother.” Glancing down at her belly wistfully, she smiles like she’s so in love that she doesn’t know what to do with herself or with it.

“If he’s such hard work, why are you still with him?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Because the roughest twenty-four-hours with the right person could be more than a peaceful lifetime with the average Joe.” The corner of her mouth tips up into a soft smile and she adds, “Christopher is my right person, even if he is an arsehole for the most part. He’s mine.”

“You can keep him.”

“Thanks.” She gives me a big toothy smile and then takes a deep breath.

“You’re welcome, take him, lock him away, he’s all yours.”

“Aww…” Cooing, she reaches for the cup holder that still has mine and Leo’s coffees in. “You’re funny, I never had Leo pegged as the funny girl type. Then again I never had him down as the cheesy gesture type either.”

She plucks one of the cups out of the holder and hands it to me. I lose track of everything.

I read the note on my coffee cup again and again, and for the life of me, I’m incapable of controlling my stupid, overwhelming feelings.

“Yeah, I got stupidly teary too, fucking hormones,” she grumbles. “What’s your excuse?”

Stupid boy. He spent part of the day being a grump and being rough and broody. Then he does something like this, and I am floored.

I saw him scribble on one of the cups with the marker the lady at the coffee shop gave him. I thought he was marking which was the hot chocolate. I didn’t give it two thoughts.

“I need a pen.” I say as Arabella starts to get up.

“What do you think I’m getting up for?” she says, laughing as she goes to one of the kitchen drawers that probably hasn’t been opened since we were kids and pulls out an ancient looking marker.

“How old is that thing?”

“Who cares? It’s green, like his eyes. Think of it as my input into your cheesy reply.”

I take his cup and write YES, underlining it just to make sure he gets the message and then I jump up from my seat. Standing there stupidly, pondering what to do.

“Well, take it to him then!” Arabella says as she tugs me by the arm towards my father’s office. When we get to the door she says, “Knock!”

“Knock?” Shit, my heart might actually burst from my chest any moment now.

When I don’t move, she knocks loudly. Three times. And then she legs it.

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