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what to do. It made her real—I could relate to wanting the best for someone but not knowing how to go about it. I’d been so wrong about her the day we met—she wasn’t spoiled or privileged. It gave me hope that she’d understand my situation with Zach.

I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to say the right thing but I wasn’t sure what that would be.

Chapter Eight

TAYLOR

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had a disabled brother.”

“I haven’t told anyone. Not since I moved.” I cleared my throat. “It’s a lot to deal with and here, I’m just me.” I looked into his eyes challenging him to say something. “I know that sounds selfish, but you have no idea what it was like growing up—how much care he requires. What it’s like being the one who’s able to calm him down. My parents relied on me. Caleb needed me. It felt good, but sometimes it would be nice to not have that responsibility.” I stopped to take a breath. Why was I laying everything out there for Gabe? “I have to get back to work.”

“I’m your boss and I say you can take a minute.”

I tilted my head and raised a brow. “Are you now? Just whenever it’s convenient for you? Otherwise I’m a friend doing you a favor?”

Gabe encircled my wrist, his thumb rubbing my pulse point, his voice soft and soothing. “Don’t. Don’t try and distract me from what just happened. You don’t look ready to go back out there.”

I opened my mouth to disagree but he said, “Don’t say you’re fine. Don’t lie to me.”

I was surprised Gabe checked on me—that he was worried about me. I sighed, feeling some of the tension release. “I’m not fine.”

He guided me with his hand still around my wrist to the couch. I sank into the black leather cushions, suddenly exhausted.

He sat close, his leg touching mine, and his arm around the back of the couch behind me.

I wanted to lay my head back on his shoulder but I didn’t. “I left him with my parents.”

“Are you upset you’re so far away from him when there’s a problem?” he asked gently.

“That’s part of it.” Why wasn’t he telling me I was selfish for leaving Caleb? “You’re not going to say anything?”

“What do you think I’m going to say?”

“That I’m a bitch for moving away from home when my brother clearly needs me. My parents need me.” I couldn’t look at him while I wanted for his response.

“Your parents are responsible for him—not you.”

“I feel horrible for wanting a break—for wanting freedom—for traveling halfway across the country to find it. I guess I assumed everyone else would feel the same way.”

“Well, I don’t.” Anger crossed his face. “Do your parents say that to you?”

“God. No. They didn’t influence me one way or the other. I stayed home by choice when I attended college and law school.”

“So they didn’t ask you to?”

“No, they didn’t. It’s just this feeling I have. That he needs me, my parents need me—that my being there makes it easier for them. They can’t leave him with anyone else. They can’t go on vacation. They can’t take him to any new places because he gets agitated.”

“That’s tough.”

His hand moved from wrist to my hand, which he squeezed in what felt like a show of support.

“It is.” Tears threatened to spill over.

“You’re an amazing sister and daughter.”

I tried to smile through the tears. “How can you possibly know that?”

“Because you feel bad, because you worry, because you want to be there for them, and you have been there. You’ve put your life on hold to be there for them. Then you did the most amazing thing and moved here to give yourself a chance at a life on your own—to explore a new place. Don’t feel badly about it. You deserve a life too.”

“But don’t my parents deserve a life?” He was saying all of the right things—things I’d refused to believe in the past when my school guidance counselor tried to convince me I could go away to college or when my parents suggested I move out during law school.

“This is not on you.”

“I wish I could believe that.” I leaned my head back on the couch, relaxing into the soft cushions.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

My eyes popped open.

“You are.” He cupped my face in his hands. “You feel so much for other people. You care.”

He lowered his head and I gripped his forearms as his lips brushed softly over mine, once, twice, until my lips parted. I tilted my head, taking the kiss deeper. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted more. Just as I thought he was going to pull me into his arms, a loud knock sounded on the closed door.

Gabe

My hands dropped from her face as her eyes widened. I stood, opening the door. Isaac looked from Taylor’s flushed cheeks to me and said, “It’s crazy out there. We need you.” Then he turned on his heel and stalked back down the hall toward the bar.

“Taylor—"

“We need to get back to work.” Then she was gone. I was left watching the spot she’d just stood, wondering what the fuck just happened. I’d never felt closer to anyone than in that moment. She’d opened herself up to me, she’d told me something I knew she hadn’t confided in anyone else, and then she’d allowed me to kiss her.

I couldn’t make myself move to the bar. Instead, I remembered the way she’d clung to my forearms as I’d cupped her face, her body angling ever closer to mine, like she couldn’t get close enough. In the moment where she should have felt the most vulnerable, I was. The act of her opening up to me felt like a precious gift. My heart sped up and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I rubbed my neck to ward off the feeling of panic setting in.

I didn’t

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