“Are you just going to give up?” Brooke asked from her perch on top of the table, feet folded like a child.
Chloe picked up her favorite pair of distressed jeans from the bed. She folded it before putting it inside her old beat-up suitcase, together with the rest of her neatly folded clothes.
A sigh left her lips on a tired exhale. “He blocked my number,” she said without lifting her eyes. “I can’t call him anymore, and Hunter completely refused to help me out. He laughed in my face before telling me to leave his brother alone.” She still felt the sting of humiliation at how Hunter had dismissed her in front of an audience.
But instead of sympathizing with her defeat, or at least understanding the situation was hopeless, Brooke waved off the response like it was irrelevant. “Can’t you
