“Nolan?” I croak.
Mom looks up at me. I can feel her eyes on the side of my face, can picture the way her brows furrow, her lips tipping down. “You know him?”
“Yeah,” I clear my throat, putting a plate into the sink. “That’s Gracie’s ex.”
CHAPTER 29
Braxton
“You paying attention?” The gravelly voice demands in my ear, and I swivel to the left, finding Stevie sticking his head around the corner of a box. “That guy almost took my head off.”
My grin is wide enough that I know Stevie must be able to hear it. “Would make for a quieter game if you were dead,” I mutter, and he raises his assault rifle, pointing it right at me.
“Even a headshot wouldn’t shut me up,” he says, but before he can pull the trigger, gunfire splatters the round between us, and he disappears back behind his box with a curse.
I settle back against my couch, adjusting my headset and focusing on annihilating the other team.
It’s been almost three weeks since Esther ambushed Gracie at work, making it nineteen days since I last saw her. My phone has been attached to my hand, volume always set at the max, hoping that day will be the one Gracie decides to talk with me…And each day, I head to bed disappointed.
I’m determined to give her space, even as much as itkills me. She wasn’t wrong when she said that before Christmas, my actions were speaking louder than anything else. I might not have sought Paisley out, but I knew what I was doing was wrong—especially when Gracie clearly told me how she felt.
I was lost in my head enough that I diminished her feelings, convinced Paisley wasn’t a threat to us, and that I knew better. It seemed easier to just go with it, believing that Gracie would eventually come around…
But if I crossed a line with that attitude, I obliterated it when I didn’t pull away from Paisley, letting her get close to me.Touchme.
I knew that night that her interest wasn’t platonic, and instead of going home and facing it head-on, telling Gracie what happened, I buried my head in the sand and acted like the world wasn’t falling down around me.
This time, I’ll show Gracie I’m listening, and that she can trust me. But it’s harder than I imagined. I missed her while she was gone, but I was distracted, working through my support program and getting my head screwed back on. Now, knowing she’s back here and living in the house that was supposed to be ours—with another man?
Goddamn, that kills.
Three enemies corner me in an abandoned building. When my character looks more like Swiss cheese than a soldier, I set my controller down with a sigh.
Stevie’s voice comes through the headset, “You wanna talk about it?”
“Not really,” I mumble, but then blurt out, “How do I prove I’m not the same man I was in December if she won’t let me anywhere near her?” My voice is overly loud with frustration, and I quickly rein it back in, knowing I can’t lean into my temper. I relied on that as a defense when Gracie left, turning on everyone around me. It wasn’thealthy or fair to anyone, especially when it just let me hide from my role in what happened.
“You have to give Gracie time,” Stevie advises sagely. “And remember, she doesn’t have all the information.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, leaning my head against the back of the couch. “I know. I’m working on healing because I know I’m not…” I furrow my brow, no words feeling right. “I know I’m notfixed.”
“Sounds like you’re doing everything right.” There’s the sound of ice clinking against glass.
“I’m trying, man. I’m just…frustrated. Not at Gracie, but—” I wet my lips. “I had this idea in my head that she would come back, and we would finally be able to sort everything out and get back on the path tous. I want her to take all the time she needs, but I feel stagnant. Frozen. Helpless.”
“Out of control,” Stevie offers helpfully.
“Exactly!” I cry, just as the battle playing out on the screen finally ends, sending us back to the lobby of the game. I blow out a breath, shrugging my shoulders, trying to shake off the tension. “You want another round?”
“Nah, man,” Stevie replies easily. “I’ve got a date.”
Seizing that distraction with clawed hands, I say curiously, “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
“I’m not. It’s a ‘swipe right’ kind of date, and I don’t expect it to go anywhere. But I’m not in a place where I can—or want—to commit. This way fills my companionship bar up and leaves me good for a few weeks.”
I grimace. “Sounds superficial and unsatisfying.”
Stevie grunts. “You’re not wrong, but it does the job.” There’s a low sound of amusement. “Maybe you should give it a go.” His tone is sly, but my answer won’t be a surprise for him. As we’ve gotten to know each other over the last couple of months, we’ve spent many hours discussing Gracie and my desire to win her back.
