Jill dug her hand into the chip bowl and stayed silent.
Elena put an elbow on the back of the couch and rested her face on her hand. “Talk.”
“Nothing to talk about,” Jill said around a mouthful of chips.
“But you guys did cross the sexy-line, did you not?”
Jill gave her a look. “It’s your brother. You really want to be having this conversation?”
“I’ll confess it’s not my favorite. But when it comes to choosing between you and Vin… well let’s just say he’s not even my favorite brother.”
Elena’s voice was teasing—Jill knew her friend was only referring to the fact that Elena and Vincent were prone to squabbling. But the offhand comment squeezed her heart a little bit.
It made her wonder if Vincent wasn’t always slightly aware of his status as the family loner. If it wasn’t part of the reason he held himself back from everyone.
The reason he held himself back from her.
He wasn’t accustomed to being anyone’s favorite. Wasn’t used to being first in anyone’s life.
“We had a thing,” Jill said quietly.
“A thing.”
“Yeah, like a… fling.”
“A fling is something you have with a guy you meet in a bar, not the guy who’s been your other half for years.”
“Well, it was. Um. It was…” Jill took a sip of wine.
“C’mon. Spill. You guys sexed it up, and then…?”
“And then…” Jill waved her hand. “Nothing.”
“It was bad?”
“No! It was—” Jill paused, remembering she was talking to Vincent’s sister. “The physical part wasn’t the problem.”
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” Jill said, relieved that Elena got it. “Ah.”
“Let me guess, the dude won’t open up. Won’t talk to you. Won’t let you in?”
“All of the above.”
Elena took a sip of wine. “But you love him anyway.”
Love.
A tricky word, that.
Jill had never been one of those people who’d had trouble saying it. She’d always given and received love fairly easily.
But loving Vincent…
Loving Vincent was scary. Risky.
Horribly, alarmingly big.
Loving Vin wasn’t easy. He was stubborn and prickly and difficult.
And loving him was also… inevitable.
As though it were inconceivable for anyone but him to hold her heart.
“Crap,” she muttered.
Elena made a sympathetic noise and reached to tug a piece of Jill’s hair.
“What happened?”
“I don’t even know. It’s like one second I asked him to take me out to dinner. Just once. And the next we were, like, breaking up.”
Elena’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What day was this. Exactly.”
Jill thought back. “Um… Friday?”
Elena closed her eyes. “Oh no.”
Jill stilled. “Oh no what?”
Elena bit her lip. “When you went over there, was there anything… different?”
“Different?” Jill thought back. “No, it seemed exactly the same. That was sort of the problem.”
“So you didn’t look around?”
“I guess not.” Jill said, totally confused.
Her friend blew out a breath. “Okay, I’m going to show you something, but promise not to freak out, okay?”
“Okay…”
Elena pulled out her phone and scrolled through her photos before holding out the iPhone to Jill. “This is what he sent me on Friday.”
Jill glanced down. “Um, a couple of utilitarian candles and some ugly flowers?”
“Look closer.”
She did. It took her a half second to recognize it. “That’s Vin’s table.”
Elena nodded slowly.
Jill’s heart seemed to stop. “No. He did this? He got… flowers?”
“He sent me this, wanting to know if it worked without a tablecloth.”
Her heart started beating again, but this time it squeezed. Hard. “Oh my God.”
“He was trying to do, like, a thing,” Elena said miserably. “He had steaks and…”
“Oh my God,” Jill repeated. “Crap. And then I come in there, all, I want to go out…”
She tossed the phone back at Elena before throwing her hands over her face, her eyes watering. “I want to die.”
“You didn’t know,” Elena said smoothly, rubbing her back.
Jill dropped her hands. “But I should have. I’m a cop. I should have looked around, I should have…”
I should have read him.
“Oh my God. This is the worst. What do I do? Apologize? Grovel?”
“What do you want to do?” her friend asked carefully.
She met her friend’s eyes steadily. “I want him back. But… we had this fight, and I couldn’t even get him to admit… anything.”
“He cares about you. You know that. Everyone knows that.”
“I know.” Jill stared at her wineglass. “And for the longest time, that’s been enough. But I want big love, Elena. I want the fairy tale. There’s a reason I said yes, and it wasn’t the right reason, but it’s still there. I want the big wedding. I want the giddy anticipation of Valentine’s Day. I want date nights, and a big, messy family—”
Jill blew out a long breath.
“And you know, even as much as I want that—I’d give it up… all of it… if he loved me, you know? It would be enough to be loved by him.”