Itake a deep breath before sliding the key into the lock, the sound of the lock tumbling over seeming extra loud. The door opens easily, the creak that the hinges made during the viewing in December gone. I smile, knowing it had to have been Stephen.
A wave of awe washes over me as I step into the house, looking around the empty space. Nothing is different from the first time I was here, except this time…everythingis different, because it’s mine.
Outside, the trunk of the car slams shut. I turn and watch as Nolan makes his way up the footpath with two bags under his arms, clearing the small steps leading to the front door with ease. He comes to stand at my side, setting our luggage down, and I bounce on my toes, waiting for his judgment.
“So? What do you think?” I demand when he doesn’t say anything.
He hums and then walks off, taking himself on a tour. I fight the urge to follow him, knowing this isn’t the kind of house Nolan is used to, his normal leaning toward penthouses and mansions. And this…isnotthat.
And yet, it’s all I’ve ever dreamed of.
I might’ve grown up in a big house with all the space and the best of everything, but it isn’t what I wanted for myself. I want the mess of family, the kind who love together in loud and unconditional chaos. I want the scars in the wood, each mark a memory of a life well-lived. I don’t want perfection, but to feel like I belong…That I’m needed. That I’m someone’s absolute first choice.
I head into the kitchen just as Nolan comes back, his expression as unreadable as ever, but his eyes are gleaming as they lock with mine, clearly seeing my agitation. “So this is your place,” he drawls.
“Yeah,” I breathe, still not quite able to believe it, even standing here with the keys digging into my palm. “It’s mine.”
His eyes crease, the corners of his mouth tugging up. “It feels like yours, Gracie.”
I inhale shakily at the confirmation, but try to laugh it off. “How does it feel like mine?” I demand. “It’s empty.”
His dark brown eyes take in the empty counters, the gap where the refrigerator should be, and the empty space for a table. “That’s easy enough to fix.”
“You’re forgetting where we are, city boy,” I remark dryly. “Getting furniture isn’t going to be as easy as—” I snap my fingers with a grin.
“You’re forgetting who I am,” he murmurs.
“I know exactly who you are,” I counter. “And you don’t need to wave your trust fund around here.” I pause, hesitating a beat. “I’m not sure if we can stay here tonight, and I can’t ask Stacey to give up the apartment at such short notice.” I met Maryann’s niece for the first time this morning when we stopped by the florist to see everyone before heading to the house.
Nolan’s lips twitch. “Where’s your sense of adventure?” he demands.
“I threw it away with my curiosity”—I list each one off my fingers—“my good sense, and my tolerance of you.”
One dark brow arches, almost reaching his hairline. “Wow, that’s quite a list there, but I don’t think you’re being entirely truthful.” There’s a wickedness in his smirk that has me narrowing my eyes at him.
Nolan and I ended up spending more and more time together over the last two months, and one night, after several glasses of wine lowered my inhibitions and silenced the doubts, it felt natural to fall back into old patterns, stealing some pleasure for myself while I was still hurting so badly.
There is something comforting about falling into bed with someone who knows you—not just your body and what you like, butyouas a person. Nolan never asked for more than I could give, and he knew there was nothing between us but friendship. He pulled me out of a dark hole when I wasn’t sure anything else could.
He was safe. There were no feelings between us anymore, except for mutual affection and trust—one thing Braxton had made sure we no longer had. He had been disappointed when I drew back after just a weekend, but as safe as it felt with Nolan, I knew that it wasn’t a healthy way of dealing with my feelings over the breakup.
Nolan looks around thoughtfully. “We just need somewhere to sleep, and everything else can be figured out later.”
It was never in my plan for Nolan to come back to Sterling Creek with me. In fact, I hadn’t even asked as much as he had invited himself. I think he’s got his own reasons for wanting space from his family, although he would never say that. But he’s only here temporarily, planning on going back home in a couple of months.
I can’t lie and say it’s not nice to have someone at myback, especially when I don’t know what I’m walking into, coming back here.
Raewyn told me the truth about the photo I saw on New Year’s Eve. I know now that Braxton never wanted that kiss, but even when the information sent turmoil spiking through me, it didn’t change anything.
Braxton lied—by omission and to my face. He kept secrets and let me be blindsided in a situation where I was feeling vulnerable and alone. He shared himself with Paisley after shutting me out, giving her pieces of himself that should have been exclusively mine.
I know he was struggling, even though he didn’t want to talk to me about it, but how was I supposed to fight for someone who wasn’t fighting for me? How am I supposed to hold on to someone who only gives me half of himself?
Paisley forcing a kiss on him doesn’t change the fact that Braxton ruined us by lighting a match and watching it all burn.
Nolan heads back into the living room just as there’s a brisk knock at the door. Tension flows through me, turning my spine to steel, even as he shoots me a speculative look.
“Go on,” he says when I don’t move. “Ignoring problems never helped anyone.”
