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When I first met Brendan Blake, he swept in like a gust of windāa perfect storm rescuing all of my senses. The second time I spied him, the grump basically declared, āUp yours,ā on a photo shoot. The third time, he regretted what heād said the day before, and I once again was provoked by his hazel eyes, wicked smile, and devil-may-care attitude. Then again, his ripped body being photographed by my best friend didnāt hurt either. Brendan wrote down his private line on a pastry box. I sent him a memento of our first dateāa blueberry pieāalmost as soon as it was over. He hooked me. It helped his idea of a perfect second date involved taking me to a baseball game. I let him ināall the way in, took him deep into my heart. I didnāt have any choice. Despite the one hard and fast rule I laid outānever lie to meāI lied to myself. I told Brendan my heart wouldnāt crumble if he didnāt love me. Would I have let myself fall if I knew the secrets he was keeping? Iāll never know. I do know you love someone until you canāt. Thatās when you set them free.