I try to picture Lawrence’s expression when the girl said that to him, and laugh softly. “She sounds awesome. I like her.”

“Once I found out her age, I decided to forget about her and stopped going to the pub. But the longer I stayed away, the more I missed her and wanted her. I fought myself but my heart won. The heart is a capricious thing, you know? It wants what it wants, logic be damned. Eventually, I went back. With time, we became close friends, and I accepted it because I was biding my time until the day she came of age and I could properly ask her out.” He pauses, appearing to be lost in the past.

“For the first time in a very long time, I felt like someone saw me as me, not Lawrence, son of Alexander and Barbara Rothschild and heir to Rothschild Media.” He shakes his head, a soft smile on his handsome face. “She was young but there was something about the way she moved and looked at me that drove me wild. As the days passed, I fell madly in love with her and was happy to love her from afar. I knew she had feelings for me, too. But I wasn’t sure how deep they ran.

“One time, on our way home from watching a movie, she asked me why I hadn’t kissed her yet. I was dumbfounded, but she laughed and kissed me anyway. On the day she turned eighteen, I spoke to her grandfather and told him that I loved his granddaughter to distraction and wanted his permission to ask her on a date.”

“Why not her father?”

“Her parents died when she was very young, leaving her and her little brother in the sole care of their grandparents.”

I frown, thinking that her story is very similar to Ronan’s. But I push the thought to the back of my mind, not wanting to think of him.

“Her grandfather gave me his blessing. My plan was to invite her to my grandmother’s eightieth birthday weekend bash as my date and once we were there, finally make a move. When we arrived, I introduced her to family members, close friends, and my best friend—Bradley Stanhope.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Of Stanhope Steel?”

His jaw clenches. “You know him?”

“Of course. I don’t know him personally, but he used to date my favorite actress, Penelope Pitt.”

He laughs bitterly. “Yes, that’s Bradley. He was the golden boy. Always a beautiful woman by his side, liked by everyone, while I was withdrawn, extremely shy around girls, and always had my nose stuck in a book.”

“If you were so different from each other, how come you were best friends?”

“Our families were very close. We grew up and went to school together. I saw in him what I wasn’t, and admired him for it. He was free to do whatever the hell he wanted while I drowned in responsibilities set by my parents. I guess a part of me wanted to be like him, to know how it would feel to be liked by everyone.”

“What happened after you got there?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, but he can’t hide the way his eyes harden at the mention of his name. “Bradley saw her and wanted her. He dazzled her with his looks, family name, and the attention he gave her.”

“What! Oh my God … no.” I shake my head, my heart breaking for Lawrence. “But didn’t she—”

“Love me?” he mocks, his voice cold. “No, Blaire, I don’t think she did. They began to date soon after, and I moved on.”

“But you never forgot her, did you?”

He holds my gaze, and I know the answer to that. “One day I ran into her. As soon as I saw her, I knew that something was wrong. The usual light that illuminated her eyes was gone. I was going to keep walking and pretend that I hadn’t seen her.”

“But?”

“She sobbed, begging me to forgive her for being weak. Once she calmed down, she confessed that she was pregnant with Bradley’s baby but that he didn’t want her anymore. Bradley told her to get rid of it. Offered her money so she’d disappear from his life,” he utters with disgust.