Page 85 of Protected By the Billionaire Ex-SEAL

“How are you holding up?”

It’s a question that Nick has asked me twice now within the same phone call. I glare at the phone, then remember that he can’t see me. I also remember that I was constantly asking this, too, when he and Clara hit a rough patch before they got together for good.

Essentially, that’s what best friends are for.

“I told you.”

“That you’re a grouchy bear who keeps denying how miserable he is?”

I switch the audio call to video, then glare when he appears on the screen. He grins good-naturedly, then studies me. Nick shakes his head in disapproval, but there’s also a hint of sympathy.

“You look like shit, Christian.”

“Gee, thanks for the heads up.”

“And I wasn’t kidding about the grouchy bear part. I heard you snapped at everyone who tried to visit you and get you out of the house, which I must say sounds just like me when I was lonely and heartbroken, too.”

“I’m not—” I bite back the words because there’s no use lying to him. Then I sigh. “Honey Lee told you, didn’t she?”

“Not me, technically. You know she and Clara talk all the time.”

“Right.” And she’s right. I’m a miserable asshole and now I feel ashamed. “They caught me at a bad time, okay? I already apologized. But I’ll try to apologize again.”

“Hmm.”

“Is there a point to this call other than to keep asking how I’m holding up?”

“Well, that was the main point. But since you don’t want to discuss it…”

“I don’t.”

“Right.” He sighs in resignation. “My second purpose for the call was to ask you when you’ll be in Nashville. I got word from my contractor that they’re ready and can come anytime you are.”

I perk up at that. “They can start building now?”

“Yeah. They just need your word.”

We discuss dates, which triggers my eagerness to head back to Nashville as fast as I can—anything to get away from the cabin fever that’s already making headway while I’m at home. I pack my bags in record time, something I’m used to with my line of work needing me to travel spontaneously.

I haul the bags into my Jeep, then drive out of my street in silence. I also try not to glance around because, every time I do, I’m reminded of the places in town that Raven and I visited—and I’m not going to lie, but it still brings that now-familiar prick to my heart. The last time I passed by the other town’s fair area, I had to drive straight to the bar and drown my sorrows in some whiskey.

I miss her so badly that it’s bordering on physical pain, but I try my best to get out of that state of mind in any way I can. I can’t stop thinking about her, but with those thoughts is a reminder that she must be happy now. Free, like she wanted all along.

And no matter how tempted I am, multiple times, to beg her to come back, I can’t take that away from her.

She never contacted me again, which means she probably forgot about me and is moving on. I should be happy for her, shouldn’t I?

“Yep. Don’t be a miserable bastard.”

When I pass by Honey Lee’s and Aaron’s street, I’m almost tempted to stop and ask how Raven is doing, but I refrain myself. It’s a good thing I have the expansion to keep me distracted now; otherwise, I’d probably drive myself crazy with thoughts. But I still glance at their driveway, wanting to at least wave and act like a decent human being after acting like an ass these past few days.

And that’s when I spot Honey Lee in the garden…swaying.

Alarm bells ring in my head, already aware of what’s going to happen next. My tires squeal at my abrupt break, but I ignore it and jump out of my Jeep. I catch her just in time as her knees crumple, but it’s a good thing that her reflexes are fast, too, as her hands clutch my shoulders for support.

“Oh, dear.”

“Shit, Honey Lee. Are you okay?”

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