Do you check the reviews of your published novels? Receiving a critical review, especially in the early stages of your author journey, is often a kick in the guts. It has the potential to make you question whether you should ever write another word. And with other authors posting their glowing reviews all over social media, it might feel as if you’re the only writer receiving bad reviews.

You’re not. I have received that one-star punch to the solar plexus. I understand the gut-wrenching misery and self-doubt that can follow such a critical review. Not to mention, my neck gets really hot and prickly and my heart rate doubles.

The thing is, a bad review doesn’t count as definitive proof that your novel kicks butt or sucks. Often it is a comment on the content of your story and how much the reader liked it. And while bad reviews bring down the overall rating of your book on Amazon, Goodreads or the platform you’ve published on, I’m here to tell you there can be upsides to those one and two-star reviews.

What one reader hates, another loves

Negative reviews can inform others what to expect if they read your book, and that’s a good thing. For example, a negative review of a romance novel might contain complaints of a jerk-hero and doormat heroine, cheating spouses, or too much sex or swearing. But what one reader hates to read, another loves. Thus, a romance reader could read a negative review for a book you’ve written and conclude they will like it and decide to buy it.

Before I buy any book, I always read through the negative reviews. I want to know the worst thing someone has said about the characters or the story. Oftentimes, a problem or flaw mentioned by another reviewer is what entices me to read a story. My decision to buy your book is based on the negative reviews, not the positive ones.

Negative reviews demonstrate your book isn’t too good to be true

Aside from providing social proof that people are reading your book, and letting you know your marketing strategy is working, negative reviews prove your book is real and the reviews are genuine.

I will often avoid books that have no critical reviews because they seem too good to be true. How is it possible everyone loves it, I ask. If all you have are glowing reviews, readers may believe reviews are biased or provided by people who know the author. This is not always true, but readers may be less likely to dismiss your book if it has a bad review.

Sometimes our critics speak the truth and there are things we need to hear

Before you published your book, you likely received feedback from your beta-readers. Beta-readers are an essential part of every author’s tool kit, but sometimes they miss things, or sometimes they’re too busy gushing over your fantastic plot to remember to point out the flaws they noticed.

Years ago, I received a highly-critical but constructive review for my book, Lights, Camera, Kiss Me. As an author determined to improve, I took the time to read all my negative reviews. The reviewer suggested my heroine was shallow and two-dimensional, and they were absolutely right. The next book I wrote, I spent more time developing my heroine, really understanding who she was, her backstory, her reasons for doing the things she did. And that book? That book never received anything less than three stars.

Negative reviews may highlight character inconsistencies, plot holes, editing mistakes, and more. Take advantage of this feedback and make improvements to your writing next time around. If you’re an indie author, you could even make changes to your manuscript today and publish another edition. In that case, the feedback has helped you improve your writing or manuscript.

When to ignore negative reviews and when to consider pulling your book from publication

All negative reviews hurt, but there are some worth listening to, and some you should flat-out ignore.

Negative reviews without comments are useless. If there’s no comment, or the review is too short to glean any value, ignore it. Wordless or too-brief thoughts are of no use to you or your reader.

If the negative review is aimed at you as an author or is simply there to troll you or fuel controversy, again, ignore it.

Alternatively, if your negative reviews outnumber your positive reviews, it’s time to take an honest look at your book. You might want to re-edit, rewrite or make significant improvements. In the end, only you can make this decision, but readers deserve the highest quality product you can publish. Ask yourself if you have delivered that.

The bigger picture

Negative reviews are never fun to read, but neither are they the end of the world. Not everyone will love what you write, and sometimes, even when your book is generally well-received, a review comes along that threatens to sneak under the thick skin you’ve developed as a writer and knock your confidence to the floor. It happens.

Mope. Eat some chocolate. Drink a glass of wine. Move on. That’s what I do. Choose to see the review as a growth opportunity for you as a writer or be optimistic you’ll sell more copies of your book because of it.

My paid subscription holds a catalogue of backlist titles that aren’t in KU, alongside drafts that may never see the light of day: stories I’m unsure about publishing, books I’m having trouble completing, and older versions longtime readers might miss and newer readers may never have seen.

Think of it as a backstage door into the parts of my catalogue and creative process that don’t always live on retail platforms. This is a place to witness the work as it’s taking shape, in all its drafts and in-between moments, rather than only when it’s finished.

Alongside access to this catalogue, I send a weekly newsletter on Mondays with a list of the projects I’m working on, including links to any updates and the words I’ve written that week, whether that’s 100 words or 7,000.

Currently inside:
• Published books that aren’t in KU
• Drafts, WIPs, and experiments
• Backlist titles I host directly for subscribers

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Wide

Don’t Fall For Me

He promised my brother he’d never touch me. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for him. We’re both about to break.

Sucker-punched. That’s how it feels when I find out Dylan James thinks I’m dull. A killjoy. The boring best friend’s sister.

Well, no more.

I’m done with playing it safe. I’m going to prove—to Dylan, to everyone, and maybe most of all to myself—that I can be wild, fearless, and fun. Starting with the one person who swore he’d never cross the line with me.

Dylan’s rule is simple: don’t fall for him. Mine? Learn everything he has to teach me—inside and outside the bedroom—and walk away when it’s over.

He thinks there’s nothing to worry about. But rules are meant to be broken… especially when love is the last thing either of us expected.

Game of Hearts

Gabby Striker has been in love with her best friend, Aaron Van-Ray, for years. But when he asks for her help to win back his ex, Gabby knows it’s time to finally let go.

At least, that’s the plan.

Pretending to be Aaron’s lover on a tropical getaway was supposed to help him make his ex jealous. It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. And it definitely wasn’t supposed to feel so real.

Now Aaron is sending mixed signals, the line between fake and real is blurring fast, and Gabby’s heart is on the line.

Does she risk everything and tell him how she feels — or walk away before it breaks her completely?

Dance with Me

Never fall for your boss…

Brooke Masters needs a job. Something safe, steady, and reliable. Losing her accounting gig while caring full-time for her younger sister was a disaster. Now, there’s no room for risks—or regrets.

Linc Rivers is nothing but both.

He’s driven, dangerously hot, and in desperate need of help. If he can’t save his nightclub, he’ll lose everything—and be dragged back to the life he walked away from, including the woman his family still expects him to marry. When Brooke walks through the door looking for work, he knows exactly who she is… and exactly how much he needs her.

Their deal is simple: she helps fix the books, he gives her the dance lessons she once gave up. But their chemistry—on and off the dance floor—turns out to be far more complicated than either expected.

The steps get closer. The heat builds.

And the rules they swore to follow?

They’re about to break.

Lights, Camera, Kiss Me

After a high-profile romance with her last co-star derailed her career, Mackenzie “Mac” Lauren is down to her last chance to prove she can stay professional. Especially since her no-nonsense producer has made it clear: on-set relationships are a hard no, with the risk of being replaced hanging over her head if she steps out of line.

But Ryan Moore isn’t just her stupidly-hot co-star—he’s her best friend. With their storyline together heating up, resisting him is harder than staying in character, especially as their chemistry threatens to blur the line between real life and the roles they play.

As their undeniable connection sizzles both on and off camera, Mac faces the ultimate choice: protect her heart and her career by keeping her distance and staying strictly professional, or risk it all for the man she’s drawn to in every possible way.

Neighbors in Love Series

Cassie

Jace takes one of the seats next to the small table where he placed the coffees, and I sit opposite him. Every Monday morning, we have an unofficial business meeting; however, I’m concerned that the purpose of this meeting might not be just business. I take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes as the sweet caramel flavour rolls across my tongue. It’s from the coffee shop across the road, and it’s my favourite menu item.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I say when I open my eyes.

He nods like it was nothing, his hazel eyes studying me intensely. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than I was on Friday.”

“You opted out of watching the game with the guys and me, so I assume your migraine lingered over the weekend.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t want to take me up on my offer to shop or bring supplies.”

“Flick was there. I didn’t see the need to put you out.”

He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t have put me out, Cassie. You’re my best friend. Friends do shit for each other. I wanted to help.”

“I know.”

Frustration crosses his face before he takes a deep breath and looks at me with so much openness and earnestness that I feel my stomach dip. “I missed you,” he says softly. “It’s the first weekend since you moved home that we haven’t hung out.”

“I know. I just… wasn’t up to it.”

He nods, and I’m sure he can see through my lies. I did have a headache, but it was mild, likely brought on by Thursday night. By Friday night, it was gone, meaning I could have caught the game with him and the guys if I’d wanted to.

He leans back and looks at his cup before looking at me. “I was wondering if you were… avoiding me after what you heard on Thursday?”

I neither confirm nor deny. I just wait for him to continue because he’s going to address it anyway, and we might as well get it over and done with.

After a moment, he clears his throat and then says carefully, “How much did you hear me tell Deck?”

I look away. “Enough.”

For years, I was so good at covering my feelings, pretending I didn’t love him, faking being okay with keeping the status quo. Back when it was Eve, Jace, and me, I accepted it was the three of us, and after I got back from Queensland, I managed to fool myself—at least for a little while—that being just friends was enough. Right now, I wish I could go back to that forced mindset. Sure, it was less authentic, but at least it would save us these kinds of awkward conversations.

“Cassie, I’m sorry. I never should have said all that.”

“It’s how you feel; nothing wrong with it.” I shrug, hoping I’m not displaying every ounce of how much it hurts to love him and know I’ll never be loved by him in return. I play with the lid of my coffee cup.

He leans forward in his chair. “You understand why I feel that way, though, right? After everything that happened with Eve, I’ve learned that you don’t mess with friendship. Mistake learned and not to be repeated.”

Even with everything I know about their breakup and how devastated Jace was, there are times when I forget just how much it affected him. Subsequently, he forgets he was happy right until she walked out. Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t give him much faith in his ability to predict relationship outcomes, but that doesn’t take away from the fact he loved her, and they’d be married and living happily ever after had she not walked out on him.

“I understand that,” I say slowly. “But I really don’t understand why you felt the need to spell it all out to Declan like that.”

Jace winces, shifting in his seat and looking away. “He believed I was jealous of Thom because… my feelings for you were more than they were. Are.”

“Right.” There’s a touch of bitterness in my tone I can’t quite hide.

“I made a mistake with Eve, putting my hormones and shit before our friendship. It was an unequivocal mistake. I wouldn’t make that mistake with you.”

It’s not about not acting on feelings—if he ever felt about me the way he felt for Eve, he wouldn’t let anything stand in his way.

The thing is, friendship doesn’t one-up love. It’s not more valuable. More importantly, they can even benefit each other. Friendship is a great basis for a romantic relationship. He fell for Eve, and there was nothing that could keep them apart. Yes, I know he didn’t want me to go to Queensland, and he was prepared to end things with Eve, but he didn’t want to. The fact that he asked her to marry him only makes me surer they belonged together. I was the third wheel, even if I didn’t want to be. He’s never had those feelings for me. He never will.

“It wasn’t a mistake, Jace. You were deeply in love with her.” Perhaps he still is. “And had things been different, you’d be happily married to her.”

His laugh is ugly, full of bitterness and resentment. “But things weren’t different. If I had my chance all over again, everything would have been different. I would have done my life so differently. You wouldn’t have left, and Eve wouldn’t have walked away.”

“I don’t think that’s true, Jace. Eve still would have wanted to travel, see the world, and experience more in her career.”

“Fine,” he glares. “She wouldn’t have fucked me up beyond all recognition by walking out on a wedding that was a matter of weeks away. She would have talked about her desire to travel and experience more earlier, instead of feeling like she couldn’t say anything because she thought I wanted to keep her here and expected she should be some kind of happy housewife to me. Fuck,” he runs a hand through his hair with agitation that I tell myself isn’t aimed at me. “I never expected anything from her except for her to talk to me about what she freaking needed.”

The agony in his eyes still cuts through me. It was years ago, yet he’s reliving that pain all over again. I’ve heard him say before that he would have postponed the wedding and done anything for her. He loved her the way most women who have never experienced that kind of love can only dream about. Perhaps she’s finally figuring that out, if our conversation about her breakup with Sam on Wednesday was anything to go by.

“So, you would have ignored how you felt about her, how she felt about you.” I hold his gaze. “How I felt about you.”

He closes his eyes, and when they open again, I see the flash of sorrow, regret, and apology there. “Not ignored, just not acted on it. We were a threesome. That’s the way it should have stayed.”

“Three’s a crowd, Jace.”

“I never thought it was.” He pauses. “But then I never really understood how strongly you felt about me, at least not until it was too late.”

How strongly? What a way to word it. Sitting back in my chair, I hope this isn’t his lead-in to talk about my feelings now. He studies me in a way that makes my pulse race and my heart skip from fear. I don’t want him to see how strong my feelings for him still are. After a moment, he says, “Sometimes I wonder if we did our friendship a disservice by not talking about it. Burying shit and covering it up doesn’t make it gone.”

“I told you when I came back that I was over it.”

I was lying to myself, but I doubt that’s what he wants to hear. He wants me around as his best friend, as his business partner. Meanwhile, I might stay trapped in a hellish Groundhog Day kind of love that feels inescapable.

“Yeah, but maybe we still should have talked about it.”

“There wasn’t that much to talk about,” I point out. “I loved you. You loved Eve, and she loved you back. Sometimes things just are what they are, and they suck for someone. In that situation, the person it sucked for was me. Even still, I was happy for you both.”

His eyes scan my face as if he’ll be able to guess all my secrets if he looks hard enough. “You once told me you’d loved me since you were ten.”

“And you told me I couldn’t love you at ten,” I remind him, trying to suppress the wave of agony that remembered conversation brings back.

He shakes his head. “Cass, I was eighteen, and my best friend was slipping away from me, and I couldn’t stand it. I was filled with the dreams we’d carried for years. I was selfish and oblivious. Obviously, once I had more time to digest it…”

“We didn’t speak for a year.”

“What can I say?” he shakes his head. “It took me a while to digest it.” After a moment, he adds, “I still can’t understand why you never said anything before then.”

“You don’t remember? I told you, Eve said someone would feel like a third wheel.”

He looks away. “And she was right.” His gaze meets mine again. “You have no idea how much I regret everything that happened.” He leans forward. “I don’t want anything to come between us again.”

At Logan’s birthday more than a year ago, he made me promise nothing would come between us again. I remember the look in his eyes as he told me he didn’t want anything to come between us and made me promise that nothing would. Just like Eve leaving did a number on him, I know that my leaving did a number on him too. Eve and I were his girls—he loved both of us, even though it was a different sort of love. But I left, and then Eve left, and I know that left marks on him, scarred him.

I know how important it is to him that I don’t leave, and I understand why he says he doesn’t want to be with a friend again. I understand it all on a logical level, but that doesn’t make it any less soul-crushing or heart-breaking.

And I know that at some point, he is going to hold me to that promise. The question is, what will it do to me to keep it?

“I know,” I say softly.

“So, you understand then why that conversation with Declan took place?”

I nod. “I do. Your need to have your best friend back and to not let anything come between us again was misinterpreted by Declan as you feeling a different way about me, and you needed to correct that.”

He nods, looking relieved that I do understand. When he stands, I think that this must be the end of the conversation and that he’s going to leave. Instead, he gives me a soft look and says, “Can I have a hug?”

Reluctantly, I rise to my feet, and we meet somewhere between the two chairs. As Jace puts his arms around me, I’m enveloped in his warmth, his scent. The hug feels both wonderful and heart-wrenching. My heart races, each beat a painful reminder of the love I have for him and the reality that it’s unrequited. I close my eyes, savouring the fleeting closeness and intimacy of the moment while trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

When he lets me go, he’s still watching me, but I’m hopefully masking the turmoil within. I’ve had to practice keeping him out of my head and not sharing everything the way that I used to—well, everything except the way I felt about him.

Instead of leaving, he sits back down in his chair. “Now we can get down to business.”

“Right,” I agree.

Business is better than more talk about my feelings.

The conversation jumps around as we cover the week ahead and concludes with Jace asking me some questions about Von Gruber. To say I’ve had a mild fascination with what happened five years ago is an understatement. While going through the archives of The Herald, I discovered that Jules and Brady, a married couple who used to work for The Herald, were hypnotized and made to do all sorts of things while undercover at a marriage retreat.

In a bizarre twist, however, it wasn’t them but a different pair of journalists who were responsible for bringing Von Gruber’s greed, corruption, and depravity to light. They made Von Gruber sound like a lunatic who controlled some of the wealthiest people in the state. He used his twisted imagination to extort money and other favours from them, even recording some of the most disturbing activities to ensure his hold over them or to sell to others. By the time I started working here, Jules and Brady had moved on and no longer worked in the state, meaning I couldn’t talk to them about it.

Adding to the mystery and deepening my intrigue is the chilling fact that after his arrest, Von Gruber never made it to prison. It’s as if he vanished into thin air. The prevailing theory is that he hypnotized the police guards into letting him escape, a terrifying possibility that has never been validated. This lack of confirmation only heightens my unease, as it’s been impossible to uncover any further information or trace his whereabouts. The thought that such a manipulative and dangerous individual could still be out there, lurking in the shadows, sends shivers down my spine.

By the time I’ve gone through everything I know about Von Gruber with Jace, he looks as horrified as I feel. When he stands this time, I know our meeting is over.

Instead of walking out, however, he stays standing, putting his hands in his suit pockets. “Cass, the contract and bank loan still need signing. Your dad is getting anxious about it.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“He asked me to talk to you about it.”

If Dad went to Jace instead of me directly, he’s getting more desperate, meaning my window of procrastination is over.

I nod. “I’ll talk to Dad about it today.”

After Jace leaves, I sit in my office, staring blankly at the laptop screen in front of me. My mind is racing with the fragments of conversations I’ve had over the past week: my conversation with Eve, Jace’s overheard conversation with Declan, my conversation with Gavin, and then my conversation with Jace this morning.

Buying out our fathers and becoming partners in this business isn’t marriage, obviously, but it is a partnership that legally binds us together. Maybe not until death do us part, but Jace is likely thinking in terms of the rest of our working lives. After that? Once upon a time, we envisioned our kids would buy us out in the future. This was the dream when we were younger, but the feelings I have for Jace complicate the simple dream from our younger days. Tying myself to a man I’m in love with feels like the epitome of stupidity. Yet, the thought of skipping out on Jace and telling my father I’ve changed my mind and no longer intend to buy him out, that his legacy is one I no longer want…

It’s not even true. The idea of letting go of the business completely is…unfathomable.

I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on again. After taking a deep breath, I pick up the phone and dial Dad’s number.

Jace

Cassie doesn’t meet my gaze as she hands me my beer, then takes her seat opposite mine, still refusing to look at me. My stomach sinks as I take in her flushed face. How much did she hear? Were they still walking back when Declan shook his head at me, or were they already standing behind me?

My comments may have just ripped open the box of history we’ve both done our best to tape shut and, by silent agreement, marked off-limits. Everything that happened—all the things that drove her to move to Queensland—the feelings she had for me back then, are something we’ve never discussed. Not more than fleetingly, back when she told me she planned to move home and that she was over everything. Over me.

I thought leaving the subject alone was for the best. Why rehash Eve’s eighteenth birthday and the years that followed? We’ve moved on. We pieced our friendship back together.

Yet, as Declan makes a joke about the footy score on the TV above the bar and Cassie forces a laugh, I wonder if it’s been a mistake to keep quiet and never talk about it. Whether, instead of healing, it’s just a giant scab waiting to be picked off. It’s not like I believe Cassie loves me that way anymore, but the fact that neither of us ever references it might not be the healthiest thing for our friendship.

I stare at her, willing her to meet my gaze, but she keeps her eyes focused on the football game on the screen above the bar.

I hate this. I hate feeling like I just unintentionally damaged my friendship with Cassie when the only thing I want to do is protect it. She can’t fault me for focusing on rectifying the mistakes of my past by prioritizing our friendship, valuing it above all else—something I didn’t do but should have done with Eve.

The silence between us becomes excruciating. Even after we’ve ordered our dinners—a dinner I no longer have any appetite for—Cassie ignores me. Meanwhile, Logan and Declan look between us with worried expressions, and eventually, they stop trying to force jokes and conversation. The four of us are rarely silent, and not because we can’t stand the quiet, but because someone always has something to say. We bounce off each other. Bantering is always easy.

Just as the silence stretches into something so uncomfortable that I start imagining what I’m going to have to do to make it up to Cassie—how to apologize without making everything worse—I remember the conversation I had earlier today with a potential client. All day, I’ve been excited about sharing the news with Cassie because I know she’s going to be crazy excited. The news about her and Thom, and then my conversation with Declan, made me forget it completely until now.

“Cass,” I say softly, hesitantly.

“Mmm?” she murmurs without looking at me.

“You know the therapist you’ve been obsessed with—”

“What therapist?”

“Von Gruber, right?”

For the first time since overhearing my conversation with Declan, she looks at me.

“Yes, Von Gruber.” Her eyebrows draw together. “What about him?”

“I scheduled a meeting next Wednesday with a client who thinks they know where he’s hiding and believes he’s back to no good.”

Cassie sits up straighter, her eyes wider and full of curiosity. “No way. If that’s… No one’s heard a thing from him in five years.”

I nod. “He could finally be done with staying off-grid.”

Excitement dances through her, and she grins at me, her smile lighting up her whole face as her journalistic and private detective instincts thaw through the ice. Well, they do temporarily. When her smile slips, as if remembering my comments from earlier, hurt flits through her gaze for a fraction of a second before she catches it and hides it from me. I feel it as a physical pain inside my chest.

Fortunately, with her curiosity now piqued, she’s not done with the questions. “This client, what’s he claiming? Why does he think it’s Von Gruber?”

“He has a daughter working at an exclusive hotel and club that is highly selective about who is allowed to enter. His daughter’s behaviour has changed, and she won’t speak to him. When he went there to talk to her, he came face to face with someone he swears matches the man from the articles from five years back.”

“Did he have a falling out with his daughter before she started working there?” she asks.

“No, they were close.”

“Still could be anyone,” she says, frowning. “It doesn’t mean it’s him.”

“You could be right,” I agree. “But you’re the one who said a man like that would never be satisfied with staying off-grid forever. He’s too greedy, too perverse, and too arrogant not to test the waters.”

“Sounds like it’s worth following up,” Declan comments, leaning back in his chair and joining the conversation. “I wasn’t in on the bust that brought him down the first time—too new to the feds to take part—but I heard about it. The guy was crazy, and not the kind of crazy you forget. We were all brought in to hunt him down when he escaped. If this is the guy… well, it makes sense he’d come back and try again. He virtually got away with brainwashing the elite for years.”

Cassie nods, her eyes finding mine. “When’s the meeting?”

“Wednesday. Could be a big-money client.”

“We like those,” she nods.

“We need more of them.”

With Cassie and me both devoted to O’Connell & Strand, we’ve kept the business ticking along to the point where it’s healthy and profits are up. The competition is still out to undercut us, but our reviews are much better, and word of mouth is working in our favour. Cassie and I are both keen to continue the upward trend of our profits, and our fathers want us to take over completely, buying out their shares before the business valuation gets too high.

I was ready to sign on the dotted line months ago. Cassie, on the other hand, keeps stalling the handover. Not for the first time, I have to remind myself she’s not looking for the optimal time to ditch me and the business. I’ve tried not to let my fears of her leaving because of feelings panic me again, but it would be my worst nightmare to say goodbye to her again, to lose her once more, and it’s a fear that’s playing on my mind. I know something is holding her back; I just don’t know what. Neither does her father, who just today asked me to talk to her about it.

Now isn’t the time, however—not when the flash of hurt I saw in her eyes is still making my chest tight and my stomach ache.

I look at her, studying her, but she’s back to avoiding my gaze, and I have the sinking feeling that I didn’t just fuck up a little bit with what I said to Declan, but a whole lot.

Maybe it’s past time we address the stuff that happened all those years ago. If she wants to, that is.

Cassie

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I see the name flash up on the smart screen on my dashboard. Hitting answer, I say, “Hey, you.”

“Wow, now that’s a greeting a man could get used to.”

Smiling, I reply, “I’m glad you approve. Aren’t you up early for a Monday morning? You’re two hours behind us, which makes it…” I glance at the clock on the smart screen. “6:45.”

“Got up early just to talk to you.”

“Aw, Gav,” I say, warmed by his sweet response. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I actually have some news,” Gavin says, his voice carrying a hint of mystery.

“Well, don’t tease me.”

“You know I love to tease you.”

Gavin is still quite the flirt and a good friend, even though I’ve been living in Magpie Grove for the past couple of years. We’ve kept in touch, and though I suspect part of the reason is him often trying to convince me to come back to QLD, sometimes it feels like he’s just checking up on me, making sure I’m okay. I made a lot of friends in Queensland—none quite like the friendship I had with Eve and Jace, but Gavin comes close, and it's great to hear from him. If nothing else, it’s a welcome distraction from the conversation I’m worried Jace is going to want to have when I get to work.

“It’s Monday—too early in my week for teasing,” I say.

“Not a great weekend?”

“Let’s not go there.”

It’s the first weekend since I moved back to Magpie Grove that I haven’t seen Jace, and that’s after I called in sick on Friday. I know he knows I’m avoiding him, but even that couldn’t make me agree to watch the football game together. And, of course, I didn’t have Thom as a distraction either. My weekend sucked.

“If you want to talk about it, you know you can call me anytime, right?” Gavin offers.

“I know, and I’m so grateful for that, but right now, I need some good news. Lay it on me.”

“I just wanted to let you know there’s another vacancy up here. You know, in case you were thinking about coming home.”

“You have no idea how tempting that sounds right about now.”

“I love her as a friend, and that’s all. I would never be stupid enough to let myself feel that way about a friend again. Never, ever again. No feelings like that. And especially not with Cassie.”

God, what I would do to forget those words. They echoed in my head all weekend, and each time they did, I felt them hit me all over again, each like a bullet to my already tender heart.

“Do you have any idea how much I’m missing the weather?” I ask, trying to focus on anything other than the way my heart is twisting inside my chest.

“You know I’m just going to keep ringing you with all these job vacancies until you come back to me, right?”

He laughs, playing it off as a joke, but I can hear the sincerity behind his words. I love Gavin as a friend, and I know he wishes our relationship had worked out. Maybe the way I feel about Gavin is the way Jace feels about me. That thought is a swift kick to the ribs, and it brings back the question that’s haunted me all weekend: why was Jace talking to Declan about me like that? Why did he feel the need to make it so clear that he doesn’t see me that way and never will?

I thought I’d done a pretty good job of keeping my love for Jace under wraps, but maybe I haven’t. Maybe they’ve been bubbling away under the surface for so long that they’ve become obvious every time I look at him. God, I wish I knew how to push them back down. I wish I knew how to get over my best friend.

“I have one more thing to share,” Gavin says. “And this is actually the real news I got up early this morning to tell you.”

I paste a smile on my face and try to give Gavin my full attention. “I can’t take any more suspense. What’s this news?”

“The editor-in-chief is leaving, and I just got asked to replace her.”

“Oh my God,” I squeal. “Gavin, that’s terrific news. I’m so excited for you!”

He chuckles lightly. “So, I just wanted to say that now that I’m in this position, there will always be a job here for you if you ever want it. I’ll make sure of it.” He pauses, letting his sincerity shine through. “If you ever change your mind and get so sick of the weather you can’t stand it anymore, let me know. I’ll fix you up, Cass.”

I choke on the tears that threaten to fall, hearing the full meaning behind his words. Gavin doesn’t know everything about my past heartbreak, but he made a few good guesses during the short time we were together. He guessed I’m in love with someone who can’t love me back, who will never be available to me. “Thanks, Gav. You have no idea how much that means to me,” I say quietly, letting him hear the sincerity in my voice.

The white brick building shaped like an L that is O’Connell & Strand comes into view, and I sigh as I pull into the car park.

“I have to go now, Gav, but we have to celebrate properly the next time I’m up there or you come down here, okay? We’ll have a proper celebration.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he tells me.

“You absolutely should. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Cass.”

It takes more energy than it should to drag myself out of the car and walk into work, and even more energy than I can muster to keep my smile in place.

I wave to Wendy, our receptionist who’s been with O’Connell & Strand for the past decade. The look she gives me says I’m doing a shoddy job of looking professional and like the partner I will be once I sign the contract to become co-owner.

“You still feeling sick, love?” she asks quietly, leaning over the front bench.

“Not quite one hundred percent, but better than I was,” I tell her before beelining for my office.

Almost worse than the hurt I felt over Jace’s words is how I failed to hide my reaction. I’ve been dwelling on Thursday night and Jace’s comments all weekend. The pervading sense of hopelessness has been creeping into my world a little more. I tried to get over Jace. I left the state, nearly ended our friendship completely so I’d have the space to date. I don’t want to be in love with my best friend, but I am, and those strings are wrapped around my heart so tight that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to cut them off. What if I can’t? What if I’m doomed to love him for the rest of my life?

Since leaving all those years ago, I’ve dated enough men, including Gavin and Thom, to know there’s no one else for me. This feels like defeat because I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this—just loving Jace from my spot beside him as his best friend. It’s hard enough with him not dating, but Eve will come home, and then I’ll have to stand back and watch them together all over again. Can I really do that?

“Hey, you’re here,” Jace says, walking in with a cardboard tray holding two coffees. After he drops it on the small table in front of my office, he props his hip against the doorway, one hand in his pocket.

As he stands there, blocking my exit, I can’t help but absorb his excessively good looks. His medium-length blond hair looks slick and stylish, his perfectly angular jaw is clean-shaven, and the white shirt he’s wearing shows off his tan. His grey suit pants fit him to perfection, the belt buckle drawing my attention down to his hips even though it shouldn’t. In the light of my office, his hazel eyes seem more green than brown.

Being in love with my best friend means I find him attractive in anything he wears, but when he’s dressed in a suit, my body always responds and signals its approval.

“Yup. I’m here.” I wrench my gaze away from him and motion to the coffees. “But you knew I would be, from the looks of it?”

“I hoped you would come in.” He steps into the office, closes the door, ensuring our privacy, and I feel my heart rate skyrocket.

Episode 10

Cassie

Eve raises her wine glass. “Cheers.”

I raise mine and tip it in her direction. “Happy Hump Day.”

We switched our weekly chat from Sunday to Wednesday a while ago to accommodate Eve’s Sunday night dinners with her boyfriend’s family.

“I can’t wait for the day we can do this in person instead of over WhatsApp.”

“Me, too.”

It's not a lie when I wish for it to be the truth, is it? When I want it to be the truth? Maybe if I tell myself enough—if I keep repeating the words—it’ll be true when she finally does come home. She's my best friend, just like Jace is, and I should want her here.

“I could really use a few drinks with you here in person,” Eve says, glancing down, her smile a bit wobbly.

“Why, what’s going on?”

Eve sighs. “I broke up with Sam.”

I sit up straighter, paying closer attention to my friend. “What? Why? What happened?”

“He just said it wasn’t working and we should end it.”

“Oh, hon, I’m sorry.”

“That’s the thing,” Eve continues quickly. “I should be upset, right?”

“You’re not?”

“No, and I think that worries me more than the breakup itself.”

Confusion furrows my brows. “Why?”

“Because I should be upset. I should be devastated, but I almost feel relieved instead.”

“You weren’t in love with him,” I say, less as a question and more as a statement.

“I thought I was, but maybe I just wanted to be.” She sighs. “I’m worried that I haven’t really been in love with anyone since Jace.”

I swallow hard, my stomach sinking like a stone. Jace proves to be the impossible man to get over—I know that firsthand. So, I have no idea how to respond to my friend. When she moved on and began dating, Jace went on his own dating spree. Then, around half a year ago, he settled down a bit and stopped the merry-go-round because he knew he wasn’t in love with anyone the same way he’d been in love with Eve.

“He’s the man you were going to marry, and you were together for years,” I remind her. “It makes sense you’re finding it tough.”

Maybe she’ll never get over him, just as I’ve never been able to. After years away from Jace in Queensland, I thought I was over him. But now I know what I didn’t then: I’d just suppressed my feelings and embraced denial. Worse still, I believed that by focusing on our friendship and the business, I could maintain the upper hand over the love I’ve had for Jace since I was ten.

I did everything I could to move on, even dating Thom. But some feelings won’t stay suppressed, no matter how much you try. Sometimes, as much as denial feels like the best and only option, it refuses to cooperate.

The truth is, if I’m brutally honest with myself, I never fell out of love with Jace. Meanwhile, he’s never fallen out of love with Eve. And so here we are again: me quietly pining for Jace, while Jace and Eve love each other from afar. It’s enough to make me question every one of my life decisions while simultaneously wanting to bang my head against a wall in hopes of curing my heart of its agonizing devotion to the one man I can never be with.

Ignoring the pinching sensation in my chest, I ask, “Are you thinking about coming home?”

As horrible as it is, my stomach drops, and nausea rolls through me.

Eve appears to consider her answer. “I’m not ready to come home quite yet. I still have things I need to do.”

It’s absurd, the wave of relief that washes over me when her words hit. Eve will come home sometime, and it may as well be sooner rather than later. I do miss her, and I’d be excited to see her. But I’m aware that, unlike last time, I can’t leave and escape to Queensland with a clear conscience—not unless I plan on walking out on a business my father helped build, one I promised Jace I’d stick around and help run.

I need to be mentally prepared for when Eve does come home. The pain I know I’ll feel when she and Jace rekindle their relationship is the reason I’m holding off on Dad’s offer (and request) to buy out his share. It’s a procrastination that’s starting to cause tension between Jace and me.

“Well, I can’t wait for you to come home,” I reiterate, trying not to wince at the lie.

“I can’t wait to have wine catch-ups and girls’ nights on the regular with you,” she says, adding to my growing guilt. “Anyway, enough about me. How are you and Thom doing?”

My throat tightens. “Actually, we broke up.”

“You’re kidding? When?”

“A few days back.”

Eve is silent, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the fact that I didn’t call her right away. “I haven’t told anyone yet,” I say before she can mention it.

It’s part of the reason I’m dreading seeing the guys tomorrow night. To say that Jace and Thom didn’t really get along is an understatement. I know Jace won’t be sorry to miss out on Thom’s company, but he’ll be worried about me. For me.

“Are you okay?” Eve asks.

“Yes, I’m a bit shaken up, but I’m hanging in there.”

Another lie. It was a relief when Thom suggested we end things because he was more invested in our relationship than I was, always talking about the future. I just wasn’t in love with him. Eve and I have that in common when it comes to our breakups. The fact that Jace is the reason for both of us, however, means I can never tell her—especially when I told her outright that I would never date Jace. Hoes before bros. Sisters before misters. I have no right to feel the way I do, not in her eyes, and not in mine either.

“Well, maybe you’ll find a hot new guy at the bar tomorrow night,” she says hopefully.

“Yeah, maybe.”

The conversation shifts to work for both of us, and before long, we’ve been talking for a couple of hours.

“I should let you go,” Eve says when she sees me yawn. “Speak soon?”

“Totally. Bye, hon.”

As I hang up, guilt threatens to swallow me, and I sink down in my seat. I’ve been living with it for so long, I should be used to it by now, but it sits heavier with me today than usual. I love Eve, and I miss her, but talking to her always reminds me of two things: One, Jace loved her first, and because of that, he will never be mine. And two, Eve will come home, and when she does, she and Jace will get back together, leaving me to live with the agony and heartache of loving him and watching him be with the love of his life.

Jace

“Ah, we have a serious problem,” Logan says, nodding toward the bar.

Declan leans forward in his chair, his jaw tightening as his hands clench around his beer. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

I turn around to look toward the bar and see Thom leaning over some woman, being a full-on sleazebag as if Cassie doesn’t exist at all.

The sight knocks the wind out of me while simultaneously turning my blood to a boil. “What the fuck?”

“Jackass,” Logan spits.

Propelled by the rage spinning a sledgehammer through my gut, I stand up. For Cassie’s sake, I’ve kept my mouth shut and made nice. But he knows we’re here. If he thinks I’m just going to sit here and—

“Oh shit, Cassie’s arrived,” Declan interrupts.

He’s right. Cassie has just walked through the door of the bar.

Before I can decide whether I should try to snag her attention before Thom does, Cassie spots Thom and the woman he’s chatting up. Instead of telling the loser off and slapping him, or hitting him like he deserves, she forces a polite smile and gives him a half-hearted wave. He has the gall to wave back at her before returning his attention to the woman he was hitting on.

The guys and I share a look of confusion before turning back to Cassie to see her reaction. When she uses the same forced smile on us that she shared with that idiot a moment ago, I know something is wrong.

As soon as she’s within reach, I pull her into my arms and hold her as if she’ll fall apart if I don’t. After a tense moment, she sighs and softens against me. My body relaxes slightly as she lets me hold her. I breathe in the scent of her light floral perfume, comforting myself with the knowledge that she’s here, I’m with her, and she seems to be okay. Even if her dickhead boyfriend is… well, I don’t even know what he’s thinking.

“You want to tell us why you were okay with that jackass back there being all over another woman, Cassie?” Declan asks once I let her go.

"Thom and I broke up."

The guys and I stare at her, waiting for more information. Logan breaks the silence first since Cassie isn’t offering anything. "Who dumped who?"

Declan shoulders Logan. “What this insensitive lug is trying to ask is: are you okay, or do we need to crack some skulls?”

Cassie smiles, and for the first time tonight, her smile is genuine. “Thanks, guys, I’m okay. No skull-crushing needed.”

I want to repeat Logan's question about who initiated the breakup, but I fight the urge because she specifically hasn’t offered the information, which leads me to think that Thom is the one responsible. Stupid idiot. I can’t imagine anyone in their right mind breaking up with Cassie. She’s probably trying to save face and avoid us marching over there and removing Thom from the bar, which I would only be too happy to do. My knuckles itch with the desire to make contact with his smug face.

Admittedly, this isn’t the first time I’ve had the instinct, but it’s the first time I’ve worried I might actually follow through. To avoid giving in to the desire, I sit back down in my chair, ensuring I’m on top of my hands so I don’t follow through with the overwhelming urge.

I spend the next couple of minutes trying to assess how well Cassie’s coping with the breakup. She doesn’t look back at Thom, and she doesn’t seem overly upset, so that’s something, but it can be hard to tell with Cassie. Sometimes she locks down her feelings, walling them off so that no one can read her. Worryingly, she could be heartbroken, and we’d have no clue.

I’m not sure she was this closed off before she went to Queensland.

“You need a drink,” Logan points out to Cassie with a frown.

Declan, Logan, and I all stand up, ready to rectify this problem now that we’re focused on the lack of alcohol and not on Thom.

Cassie, however, rises to her feet. “Sit down, men, it’s my shout.” She waves away our complaints and backs it up with a firm look at each of us, brooking no arguments.

After taking our reluctant drink orders, the three of us watch her leave. I’m sure my frown mirrors Declan and Logan’s expressions.

“Cassie’s handling the breakup well,” Declan says, still looking concerned as he follows Cassie with his eyes.

“It seems like she’s okay,” I say slowly, not trusting my perceptions.

“She’s not looking back at the asshole, and she didn’t flinch when she saw him flirting with that chick,” Declan adds.

“You, on the other hand,” Logan says, looking at me. “You look like you still want to smash Thom’s face in.”

“Don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m still worried you’re thinking about going over there and acquainting his head with the bar.”

“Our Jace never liked Thom,” Declan reminds him.

“None of us did,” I point out.

“He was okay,” Logan says.

When I glare at Logan, my mate just shrugs. “Yeah, he was a bit of a wanker, but he was harmless enough.”

“You, on the other hand…” Declan trails off. “You hated him and barely concealed it from Cassie.”

Logan shakes his head. “There was no concealment. Cassie knew.”

“What are you getting at?” I snap at the two of them.

“Nothing,” they duet.

“Bullshit. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Logan pushes back his chair. “I’m going to help Cassie.”

My gaze flicks between my mates, the one still at the table and the other running for cover. “Chicken shit,” I mutter. “What were you going to say?” I press Declan.

For the first time, Declan loses his assuredness and slightly smug look, instead looking more concerned than anything. “We thought, well…” He smiles sheepishly. “That you might be jealous.”

His words punch me in the gut, but I laugh it off. I stop laughing, though, when I see just how serious Declan is.

“I didn’t need to be jealous of Thom. I mean, at first, maybe I was worried because I didn’t relish spending time with the guy, or sharing Cassie with him when she’d just gotten back from Queensland after years of being gone. But Cassie never bailed on any plans or our regular hangouts. I don’t need to be jealous of some douche who clearly had no idea how awesome our girl is.”

“So, you haven’t been having feelings for Cassie?”

I snort.

Declan just stares at me.

“Cassie’s my best friend, nothing more.”

She can’t be more, no matter how beautiful she is, or how perfect for me I think she might be. No matter how much she creeps into my thoughts or my late-night fantasies. Immediately, my mind goes to the dream I had about her last night. We were in my bed. She was on top of me, and she was kissing me as if her life depended on it, and I—

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know what you asked, but I love her as a friend, and that’s all. I would never go down that path with a friend again. Never.”

Declan shifts in his seat and shakes his head at me, indicating he thinks I’m full of shit.

“Do you really think that after what happened with Eve, I would be stupid enough to let myself feel that way about a friend again?” I ask. “I won’t be. Never, ever again. No feelings like that. And especially not with Cassie. Never with Cassie.”

She’s too important, and now that our friendship has healed, I refuse to do anything that will put it at risk again.

“And we’re back,” Logan’s voice booms as the tray of drinks lands on the table.

Too late, I realize why Declan squirmed and shook his head at me. Fuck.

Episode 9

Teaming up with Knox Casey, the man who humiliated her a decade ago, is journalist Reese Cameron's worst nightmare. But her boss insists, and now she's undercover, posing as Knox's wife at a marriage retreat to investigate odd occurrences. Facing her long-held attraction to Knox was tough enough. Little does Reese know, she's got even bigger challenges ahead.

CONTENT WARNING: Extreme situations involving voyeurism, hypnosis and fictional drugs. No realism intended. Recommended for readers 18+.