I blink, the image of Ana’s hurt face burned into my mind. How can she expect me to say something when I can’t even breathe? I fucked up. I know it, but I don’t know how to make it right. I did what I thought was in her best interest and was wrong. She left, and I feel like history is repeating itself from that night Heather called off the engagement.

Only this is worse.

I did the thing I was most afraid of. I hurt Ana. I caused her to walk away.

“Is everything okay?” Luke asks quietly, coming over to where I’m standing. I haven’t moved since Ana turned and walked away. I watched her, rooted to the spot, feeling like the life got sucked out of me.

“I don’t know.” I blink and look at my brother. “I’m an idiot.”

“We already know that.” Luke puts his hand on my back and guides me to the bar. “What happened with Ana?”

“I withheld the truth about something I should have told her and—”

“You lied?”

“Yeah.”

Luke orders two drinks and looks at me. “I heard some of it. That blonde chick asked if you were single and you told her you were?”

“Not exactly,” I say and Luke raises his eyebrows. “She’s my boss’s niece.” I let out a breath, feeling like the scum of the earth. “I’m being considered for a promotion to be a publisher and if my boss found out I’m dating an author I’m directly working with, it could very well be a deal breaker.”

Luke nods. “So you lied about your relationship because you wanted a promotion, not because you wanted to shack up with that chick.”

“Yes. But, fuck, it still sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“It does because it’s a dick move. Especially since it seems like Ana didn’t know.”

I look down at the bar. “She didn’t.” The bartender brings us our drinks and I take mine, downing a big gulp right away. “I thought I could do both. Get the girl of my dreams and land the promotion. My boss leaves in less than a month. All I had to do was keep my personal life separate from work for a few more weeks. I really thought I could do it.” I down more of my drink. “I fucked up, but maybe it’s for the better. Give Ana a chance to find someone new.”

I can feel Luke’s eyes on me. “You really care about her, don’t you?” he asks softly.

“I do.”

“Then go to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to be around me right now. Or ever.”

“You made a mistake. Who hasn’t? You’re human, after all. We mess up. We do it again. And sometimes again after that. The point isn’t not messing up. It’s what you do after you mess up. Start with apologizing. And follow up with showing that you’re sorry.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not, but that’s what you do for the ones you love.”

I look up at Luke for a second and then finish my drink.

“As much as you like to act like you’re fucking perfect, you’re not. No one is, and fucking up is part of life. It happens, and you have to deal. Not dealing—trust me on this—makes things a hell of a lot harder in the end. Things don’t get better on their own. And if Ana loves you, she’ll understand. You forgive people when you love them.”

“With exceptions,” I clarify. “What if Ana doesn’t—”

“You don’t know unless you try,” Luke interrupts. “Even though you’ve been an asshole most of my life, you’re still my big brother and I’ve looked up to you. I used to be jealous of how you’d succeed in everything you did.”

Was my drink spiked or did Luke really just say he was jealous of me?

“And then I realized that you were very selective in the things you did. You only took on something you knew you could handle.”

I sit back in the barstool, wanting to tell Luke he’s wrong. But he’s not.

“Fear of failure holds more people back than actual failure, but I don’t need to tell you that. Find Ana, have makeup sex and show her how sorry you are. Because you are sorry. I can tell.”

I finish my drink and set the empty glass down on the bar top. Luke’s only getting half the story. He only knows half the shit I did, and now’s not the time to get into Steven. Because Luke is right about one thing: I love Ana and need to prove it to her.

“Thanks,” I say to Luke and get up. I stride right past Lindsay, who calls my name and don’t stop until I’m outside. I call Ana. Her phone rings four times then goes to voicemail. I know she’s mad, but Ana doesn’t seem like the type of person who would hang up on me.

I move down the walkway in front of the building, looking for Ana. A small crowd is gathered outside smoking, and I go over to them.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a friend,” I start, asking a man who’s dressed like Hugh Hefner. “Wonder Woman.”

“I think I saw her,” another person answers. “I think she went to get a cab.”

“Thanks,” I say and hurry to the street. I call Ana again. The phone rings once and someone answers.

“Ana?”

A muffled voice says something but is too far away for me to make out what’s being said. Then someone breathes into the phone.

It’s like the floor opened up beneath me and I plunged into icy water, getting pulled down so deep the pressure is closing in on me. Fuck. It’s Steven.

“Hello, Cole. I’m afraid Ana can’t talk right now.”