“For what it’s worth,” her brother said, “you got most of it right. You can trust Aidan. He’s not the problem.”

“You are,” Angel told her. “It was never about trusting someone else. It was always about trusting yourself.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “You’re wrong.”

“He’s not.” Kipling’s gaze was steady. “You’re not freaked out because Aidan has feelings for you, but because you have feelings for him. You don’t believe you can give your heart to him and survive. You don’t believe you’re strong.” He leaned toward her. “You are, Shelby. You’ve been through so much already. Look where you are—with your friends, your business and with Aidan.”

She didn’t want to look. She wanted to cover her eyes and not see anything. She wanted to have things go back the way they’d been before she and Aidan had been friends.

Only she didn’t want that. But if she couldn’t go back and couldn’t go forward, where did that leave her?

“You’re trying to control your way to feeling safe,” Angel said. “It doesn’t work that way. We don’t have control. All we can do is know we’re strong enough to survive whatever happens. That the love makes it worthwhile.”

Her eyes burned. She blinked away tears.

“You’re not your mother,” her brother said softly. “You’ll never do what she did. But you have to believe it in your heart. You have to accept that you’re going to screw up. We all do.”

“Every day,” Gabriel told her with a wry smile. “But we keep trying to do better.”

Kipling got up and walked around the table. He pulled her to her feet and hugged her. “You think you have to be strong enough to always take care of yourself and that’s a daunting task. The secret is, with love in your life, someone has your back. On the days you’re not strong, he is. And you’ll be there for him.”

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Despite her determination not to give in, the tears came. Pain and confusion and loneliness filled her until she thought she would drown from all the emotion.

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted. “One second everything was fine. The next I wanted to run as far and as fast as I could.”

“Sure,” Angel said. “Seek cover or higher ground. It’s what all wounded animals do.”

She raised her head and glared at him. “Not your best analogy.”

“Maybe, but it’s accurate. You’re wounded. More healed than you were before, but some injuries never completely go away. So you adapt. The question is do you accept where you are and make the best of it or do you spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself?”

She pushed away from Kipling and walked toward Angel. “I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

“You kind of are,” Justice added. “And you’re stupid. You and Aidan have a great thing going. He’s done everything you asked and you walked away because you’re scared. Did I miss anything?”

“Nope,” Angel said cheerfully. “That about sums it up. I’m hungry. Anyone want a sandwich?”

“I do,” Gabriel said as he stood. “I’ll go with you.”

“Me, too.”

All the guys left the room until it was just her and Kipling.

She put her hands on her hips. “Your friends are idiots.”

“No, they’re honest. And they’re your friends, too.”

She sniffed, then wiped her face. “If I was with my girlfriends, they’d be hugging me and telling me that Aidan was wrong.”




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