Page 95 of Starting Over

A bitter laugh escaped through my lips as a tear slid down my cheek.

He left.

I guess that was it.

Taking a deep breath, I held onto my resolve. I wouldn’t beg. That little girl inside me was screaming, telling me to go after him. That I was about to lose the one thing I ever really wanted. But the grown woman would have to explain it to her. Life was too fucking short not to have what you deserved.

Declan was right about one thing.

You didn’t always get what you wanted.

Especially if you weren’t willing to fight for it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Grace

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

I rolled over, looking at the clock.

3:15a.m.

Last call at the bar was at one. Then, I had to close down and clean up. Johnny followed me home every night, and by the time he left, I took a shower and crawled into bed. It was usually two-thirty.

That meant I had been in bed for forty-five minutes. Had been asleep for thirty minutes at most.

Who the fuck was banging on my door?

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

With a heavy sigh, I crawled out of my warm bed and walked through the living room. Standing on my toes, I looked through the peephole on my front door.

Shit.

Opening the door, I stared at the man standing there. His hands were braced on either side of the trim, his head down, as if he was staring at the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” he said, looking up at me with a lopsided grin. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.”

Goose bumps left a trail in the wake of his gaze as his eyes swept over every inch of my body.

“Are you drunk?”

“Yuuup,” he answered, popping the p emphatically at the end.

“Did you drive here?” I demanded angrily. Looking around him for his motorcycle on the street, my hand still held the door, preventing him from walking inside. Instead of finding his motorcycle, my eyes locked on Johnny’s as he sat in his truck at the curb.

“Johnny dropped me off,” he said, just as the prospect waved and took off.

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