Chapter 1

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"If she's amazing, she won't be easy. If she's easy, she won't be amazing. If she's with it, you won't give-up. If you give up, you're not worthy. Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."

— Bob Marley


Chapter 1

A month ago, Taylor's Party

I was leaning against a tree, gazing at the garden's miniature falls that connected to the fountains, lost in thought... with dread and fear accompanied by damning memories, when I heard someone approach my direction.

"Dance with me, pookie," someone said behind me.

Brody.

Ever since he found me crying when my nanny, Esmeralda, left, due to her mother being sick, he continued using the pet name she called me. Pookie was an endearment in Spanish.

"You really need to stop calling me that. I'm not six," I nonchalantly voiced out without gazing back at him.

I heard him move close to my back, making me conscious of his body's heat. Persistence thy name was Brody. For all the years I'd known him, he had rarely backed down.

"You're very edgy tonight. Feel like talking about it? I'm all ears."

Like that was going to happen. "I'm fine. I just want to be alone, if you don't mind."

"Why do you always do this the day after you sleep with me? Is that all I'm ever going to be to you? Someone on your speed dial to scratch the itch?" Brody sounded a little angry.

However, I didn't care. Not tonight. Knowing the crap was going to rain down on me very soon. "Seriously, Brody, this is not the time nor the place to discuss this." Really. If I could hide here forever, I would.

"For the past year, you've had the same line. You've paraded men right in front of me while I watch in vain, but I've endured all of that because I know, deep down, you love me; you always have. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry? Just tell me how long I have to wait for you, Lindsey."

Was there anyone in this fucking city who didn't know I was in love with him? I studied the man who meant so much to me, knowing that I had no answer for him. This man that was six feet of tightly packed muscles, killer smile and dark eyes with an uncanny resemblance to a young Pierce Brosnan.

Brody, ever since I was a child, had been my idol. I had followed him everywhere, thinking he was God. At ten-years-old, I blurted out that I loved him after he tasted the cookie I made, saying that they were delicious because I made them. Of course, my brother, Carter, spit them in the sink after the first bite, whining that they were too salty and hard. That wasn't the only time I told him that I loved him. Through the years, I would randomly tell him. Each time, he would just give me a smile and tell me, "That's very sweet of you, Lindsey."

That love turned into loathing the second I found out Cece slept with him behind my back during freshmen year. Brody, along with Carter, were very popular with the girls and those two never had any problem getting what they wanted.

Upon learning about this, I ended my friendship with Cece and tried to end my feelings for Brody as well. I should've known it wasn't going to be easy, even after years of trying. Accepting that it was never going to go away, I learned the art of impassiveness instead.

Deep inside, I knew that I was still reeling, but that love was now mixed with hate, affliction and scorn. Still, every time Brody was around, every time he greeted me after learning about Cece, he was still sweet and polite towards me—after my giving him death stares and all—the man still tried.

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