Back Fire In You Save as PDF
Chapters (43)
  1. Also by Jennifer L. Armentrout
  2. Title Page
  3. Imprint Page
  4. Contents
  5. Epigraph
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Epigraph
  21. Chapter 15
  22. Chapter 16
  23. Chapter 17
  24. Chapter 18
  25. Chapter 19
  26. Chapter 20
  27. Chapter 21
  28. Chapter 22
  29. Chapter 23
  30. Chapter 24
  31. Epigraph
  32. Chapter 25
  33. Chapter 26
  34. Chapter 27
  35. Chapter 28
  36. Chapter 29
  37. Chapter 30
  38. Chapter 31
  39. Chapter 32
  40. Epigraph
  41. Chapter 33
  42. Chapter 34
  43. Epigraph

“And I know we can’t go back and pretend that I didn’t . . .” A muscle flexed in his jaw as his gaze moved to the opposite wall lined with cabinets. “That I didn’t let you down in all the worst ways. I know I’ve apologized before. I said I was sorry a hundred times.”

Brock had.

“But those apologies aren’t enough,” he added.

I studied his profile, dread building as I started to understand him. “You don’t have to be friends with me because of what happened, because you feel guilty or—”

“It’s not that. Not what I mean at all.” His gaze flew to mine and he leaned in toward me, leaving only a few scant inches between us. “I don’t want you to come to work and stress about having to avoid me. I want you to be comfortable there.” A lock of brown hair fell forward, brushing his forehead. “I know what I’m asking for is a lot. I know that there’s a good chance I don’t even deserve it, but I want us to be friends, Jillian.”

Friends.

God, at one time, hearing him say that would’ve shattered my poor heart into smithereens, but now? I didn’t know how to feel about that. Brock and I, as silly as it sounded back then with the age difference, had been best friends. Losing all that girlish hope that one day we’d have that romance-book happily-ever-after had been terrible. Ending the friendship had hurt worse, because when I cut him out of my life, I lost my closest friend—my partner in crime and adventure.

“Can we do that?” he asked. “I’m being for real. When I said last Monday this felt like a second chance, I meant that. Can we at least try?”

Honestly, I wasn’t sure—had no idea if I could truly be friends with Brock. Not because he hadn’t returned my feelings once upon a time. It didn’t even have anything to do with what had happened to me the night Brock claimed he’d let me down in the worst ways possible, because I didn’t blame him for what happened.

But I wasn’t sure if we could be friends without me . . . without me falling deep again, slipping under, and catching the kind of feelings for him that would inevitably end in another heartbreak.