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Our coffees slid across the bar, and the barista yelled our order: light mocha with skim milk and a black coffee. I never understood black coffee. How could someone drink it with no cream or sugar, with nothing fun or delicious? I hoped after I told him about Finnley and me, he wouldn't act like his coffee: bitter.

The cream made a heart in the mug as it melted together with the warm liquid. Once we sat down by the windows close to the door and watched the people walking on the streets, I twirled my little straws to pass the time. He finally broke the silence.

"So how have you been? Haven't talked in a few days."

"Good. Great, actually. You know, I was fired."

"Well maybe you can strive to become an accountant like you wanted."

I swallowed, and my nerves overtook me. I couldn't tell him, not with him staring and smiling. The more I looked at him, the more I saw Finnley in his features. They were both beautiful and brilliant, with a similar face shape and full lips. Where Finn's eyes were green, Luke's were blue. Their hair, though different colors, had the same texture, but Finn's was shaggy, while Luke's wasn't. Their accents, sense of fashion, and even laughs resembled one another. How dense was I to not recognize they were related, considering the amount of time I spent with both of them?

"Jennifer."

I moved my eyes from the passing people on the streets to Luke.

"I know about you and Felton."

My heart dropped, and I thought I might be sick. I couldn't do this, not right now, not in public. The one thing I hated most was being blindsided, being put on the spot, and right then, at that moment, I wanted to do nothing more than run away. But it wouldn't have solved anything. I knew that.

"You know what, exactly?"

The truth that Jesse thought she knew was a lie, and I had to know that Luke's truth was different from hers, even if it would hurt hearing it from him.

"I know that you had sex with him. I know that you were let go, and about the lie Finn told to keep you out of the limelight. I know that you know he is my brother, and I regret not being the one to tell you. I wanted to, but I never found the right moment. Basically, I know it all, and I'm sorry."

Here he was, sitting in front of me after I'd crushed him, apologizing to me. I closed my eyes and then sucked in a deep breath.

"Don't apologize to me, Luke. If anything, I should be dropping to my knees and begging for your forgiveness. I'm so sorry, you have no reason to apologize to me."

"I'm not upset with you. But I want you to tell me yourself that you don't have feelings for me. I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me because I don't believe Finnley, unless it was all a lie."

"Luke."

He leaned over the table and whispered, "Tell me. I want to hear you say it."

"I can't tell you that. I care about you, a lot. I want you to be happy... But I know I can't fully give myself to you the way you want me to."

"Do you love him?"

This would be the second time that I was asked this question. If love didn't matter that much, then why did the two of them insist on asking me about it.

"I don't think I know what love is, Luke. I like Finnley, yet sometimes I dislike him. I can't tell you if it's love. I don't know."

"Do you love me?"

Hurt spread across his face. I heard the angst in his tone and watched his muscles tense. The emptiness in his voice made me cringe. Luketon Brand was Finnley Felton's brother. How could he ever forgive me after I looked him in the eyes and told him I wanted him, and then went to his brother? My feelings were a writhing jumbled mess of knots and tangles, and I couldn't work them out. Not right now, not with Luke in front of me.

"Luke."

"It was all a lie, wasn't it? All of it. Every moment we spent together was nothing more than a game. Pretend. I really thought we had more than that, Jennifer, regardless of The Elite."

"I never faked anything with you."

I couldn't stand to see him hurt this way and to know that I caused it. We sat in silence, and I removed his jacket from my shoulders. The burning in my chest traveled up my body, and I almost gave in to the sadness as I squeezed my eyes shut. Not even the most perfect cup of coffee could make me happy. Nothing could make me happy, and I knew it wouldn't hurt this way if I didn't care or if I didn't have some sort of feelings for him.

"I thought we had something. I felt something when I was with you. I thought you might be the one for me, and I was falling in love. You had the key. You threw it away."

I sat there, unable to say a word. My heart hurt. His heart hurt. It was inevitable that someone would feel like shit in the end, and it should have been me. And only me. Every action had a consequence, and as much as I wished I could take some of it back, I couldn't. I caused this pain. I deserved to feel like a piece of shit. His words caused my world to spin and crash down, as I remembered the tattoo, Paris, and how Finnley had replaced all of those memories with himself.

"I'm sorry. What can I say?"

"There's nothing you can say."

Luke snatched the jacket from the back of my chair and jerked the door open. The bell slammed against the top of the door and everyone turned and looked. I didn't stop to apologize, but instead went after him.

"Luke. Please."

He kept walking as I stood on the street hollering his name. People stared at me as tears welled in my eyes. I'd hoped that out of the two brothers I had made the right choice. But as I stood there, I realized that I hadn’t, and now I had neither one. Life was never easy, and everything seemed even more complicated now. Finally, I understood the complexity of the situation at hand. I had created a mess.

I opened my phone and focused on the last text message from Luke in my inbox.

Paris in two weeks.

Damn it. I needed to get ahold of myself and stop dwelling on the what-ifs and what could be's. Those would drive me insane if I let them. As I stared at the screen, I texted him:

I cared about you and still do. Everything I ever said to you was the truth. I'm sorry.

I didn't expect to receive a message back, and didn't get one. The walk back to the hotel seemed to last for centuries, as I replayed every word Luke said. Once I felt like the biggest ass in the entire world, I crawled into bed and pulled the blanket to my chin. The way Luke treated me was justified by my actions, and I deserved to be without either one of them. The feeling of being completely and utterly alone stalked me in the shadows and followed me around. Lady Luck hated me right now. She had the right, too, because even I hated me.

Six

Instead of sulking all day, I made an appointment with the best damn real estate agent in Vegas. Feeling sorry for myself would get me nowhere fast and that wasn't me. I had to pick up and move on, and try to keep myself busy before the guilt consumed me.

The man that showed me around various townhomes had a knack for fashion, with his perfectly wrapped scarf, leather shoes, and Versace man bag.

After the third walk through of a place that I was not feeling, Mr. Metro made a few phone calls, and we were on our way to view another. I was being that customer, the one that agents hated, the one that would never be happy.

Only a mile from downtown sat a cute townhome with a shady brick sidewalk that led to a red door. When he opened it, I gasped. Tall ceilings, wooden floors, and fashionable colors flowed together nicely on the walls: light blues and greens, and even beiges.