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I roll my eyes. “People can be jealous without being in love.”

“Sure.” She winks. “You can’t deny it anymore. You’re falling in love—and that’s fucking scary.”

I fold my arms across my chest, trying to hide from her words.

But I can’t.

“It’s scary because it means risking the possibility that you might lose that love to someone or something else,” she persists. “Think about it for a second.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking.”

She sips her tea, never taking her eyes off my face, and then sets the teacup on the saucer. “Before, you were afraid of losing Pavel to the Bratva. Now, you’re afraid of losing him to Zoya. The more time you spend with him, the more you’re going to fall in love with him, so you might as well admit it now.”

“I can’t…” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop my throat from clenching. It’s hard to focus through the turmoil of hormones in my gut. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Why?”

I shrug. “Because I don’t know if this is right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What if I’m falling in love with the wrong man?”

She shrugs. “There’s no way to know who you’ll love, Liya.”

“I don’t like that.”

“I don’t think the universecaresif you like it.”

I scoff. “Whatever.”

“It may seem like the wrong person now, but the heart wants what it wants.”

“My heart is ridiculous.”

She pins me with a knowing glance. “You’ve spent so long caging up all your fears and doubts—or showing them to some ass-hat who will punish you for them—that you’ve forgotten how to love.”

“That’s not true.” I point at her while pressing, “I show you love, don’t I?”

“Platonic love isn’t romantic love, Liya.”

I shake my head. “No, but it’s stilllove. Doesn’t that count?”

“Sure, it counts. But again. Not the same.”

I groan with frustration. “Willow!”

She sighs and shakes her head. “Loving from a place of fear isn’t love, is it, Liya?”

“I love you because I care about you, not because I’m afraid of you.”

Her lips part for a second, something sitting just on the tip of her tongue that she seems intent to drop—and then it’s gone.

Instead, she says, “Telling him how you feel is a start. It’s important for any relationship.”

I get the feeling she’s not just talking about Pavel at this point. But I don’t push.

After a deep breath, I bow my head and whisper, “I wish things had gone differently.”


Tags: Brook Wilder Suvorov Bratva Erotic