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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

He slipped into the circle of my arms and pulled me against his chest. He really didn't seem to experience that huge surge of adrenaline whatsoever. This was rather incredible, how the gale-blowing wind in me seemed to stand in contrast to the calm beat of his heart. It was warm and safe—all that one is supposed to connect with that feeling. Yet, with me, it only seemed to build that suffocated feeling.

"Don't worry about him, Natalie," he said, his voice whispering into my hair like such a sweet melody. "Robin doesn't understand what we have."

I nodded mutely against his chest, not trusting myself to open my mouth; so many thoughts pirouetted in so many directions, each of them a tug in itself. The words replayed over and over in my head, something like this: "I hope you don't regret this."

Not the first time that Robin said these to me, something unusually heavy in the sentence today suggested the likelihood of tightness in my chest.

"Something wrong?" Brandon's voice cut into my t
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