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following Ryan’s death, she
felt cold, emotionless and numb. Her every action and response to questions
became automatic, even when talking to the funeral director with Brendon.
    Brendon didn’t even look at her. He
seemed lost, detached from the world around him. Standing tall, dressed in a
dark suit, his eyes covered in dark glasses, Brendon stood apart from the other
mourners. She walked around the grave. She knew he watched her approach.
    “I promised Ryan I would be here, if you
need me. Is there anything I can do?” She felt small, and she couldn’t help the
quaver in her voice.
    “No, I don’t need anything and I don’t
want anything. For your own good, stay the hell away from me. You’re not Ryan, and
you never will be.”
    The venom in his tone was unmistakable.
Jay trembled and took a step back. Brendon turned and stalked away, leaving her
more lost and alone than she’d ever felt in her entire life. Little did he
know, Brendon had just torn out her heart. Not only
had she lost her best friend, she’d lost the man she loved and the father of
her baby.
    She fought back the tears, returning to
Ryan’s mother’s side, helping the sobbing woman back to the car.
     
     

Chapter Eight
     
    Brendon felt torn,
inside and out, and everything around him suffered from his own stupidity and
grief. He snapped at people, and he let his immaculate house slip into
disarray. Days merged into weeks, as his anger slowly melted into resigned
acceptance, the weeks turning into months. He went to work, he ate, slept,
tried to rid himself of the empty ache in his heart.
    He’d boxed up Ryan’s
belongings. They sat in the hall of his home, Brendon unable to bring himself
to get rid of them completely.
    When he closed his
eyes at night he saw Ryan’s face, his hazel eyes filled with accusations of
promises broken. “You have to look after
Jay, she needs you. Promise me, Brendon.”
    More than anything,
visions of Jay’s lovely blue eyes filled with sadness haunted him. Vivid
memories of touching her soft skin, the sweet taste of her lips, how good her
hot center felt wrapped around his cock. It was more than simply physical—her
tender caring heart, and how beautifully she submitted to him. In all the time
they were together, never once had he admitted how she’d gotten under his skin
and taken hold of his heart. Not even to Ryan.
    He loved Ryan, no
doubt, but he also felt things for Jay he refused to acknowledge. More often
than not, he found himself driving past her apartment in the darkness; he could
see the lights on in her windows. But his stubborn pride kept him from getting
out of the car, walking to her door and knocking, seeking her comfort and
giving her his.
    What would he say? Sorry, I fucked things up; I know this
wasn’t your fault? Shit.
    Brendon parked his car
outside the cemetery. He hadn’t come here since they’d lowered his lover into
the ground. He needed to talk to Ryan, even if it was his headstone. He wanted
to get things straight in his head.
    The afternoon light
was fading, as he strode through the rows of gravestones. He came to a
standstill by the tree, when he noticed someone already sitting by Ryan’s grave.
    Jay. He studied her,
her lovely long hair hung around her shoulder, her nose red and her face
streaked with tears.
    “Why, Ryan? I know you
love him, but you made me fall in love with him too, but it’s all gone wrong.”
Her shoulders shook, as she softly sobbed.
    She loved him. Brendon
had always sensed she had a fondness for him, but never knew the depths of her
feelings until now.
    The tears dripped onto
the marble headstone, and her shoulders shook, her body racking with sobs.
“What am I supposed to do now? You’re not here to help me; Brendon hates me and
I have to do this all alone.”
    When her hand skimmed
down to her enlarged stomach, his gaze followed, watching as she rubbed it in
gentle circles. His stomach dropped in shock, reality hitting home. She was
pregnant.