Page 69 of Eight Years Gone

“Yes.” She surprised herself as she answered without hesitation. The man she’d been yearning for was a mere four blocks away. “I’m sorry, Ben. I truly am.”

“I can’t pretend that I’m not a little crushed. But I truly understand.”

She stood because as much as she wanted to smooth things over with Ben, she needed to talk to Jagger again.

When she’d left him at Simplicity, there had been the newly familiar tension hanging between them. “I hope we can still be friends—that you’ll still be up for grabbing a coffee from time to time.”

He gave her a hug. “Things are turning out differently than I expected, but nothing’s changed about our friendship.”

She hugged him hard. “Thank you, Ben.”

He eased back. “Anytime.”

“I should go.”

He nodded. “I’ll see you around.”

* * *

Jagger shut the fridge door harder than was necessary after grabbing the gallon of milk for a late-morning bowl of cereal.

Steaming out a breath, he popped off the top and poured, still trying to rein in his frustration after his conversation with Grace in the shower a couple of hours ago.

A long run usually settled him down when things weren’t going his way, but that wasn’t the case when it came to Grace. Eight miles and another shower had done nothing to ease his worries.

When he came stateside to find her—because there was no use pretending he’d come home to do anything else—he’d known the odds of getting her back were stacked against him.

But now that he’d had Grace again—now that he knew there was still so much left between them—he was desperate to find a way.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, picking up his bowl to bring it to the small table.

He’d done a number on her. Even after their years together and the heat they still shared in the bedroom, she didn’t trust him at all.

He didn’t know how to show her he was here to stay—that she was all he’d ever wanted.

He dropped his spoon back into his bran flakes when footsteps climbed the stairs to his apartment. He moved to the door, opening it as Grace raised her hand to knock.

She sent him a small smile, looking pretty in her sweater and jeans. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He stepped back to invite her inside. “Do you want to come—”

“I love you, Jagger.”

Shocked, thrilled, relieved, he stared at her. He’d had so many bad moments over the past three weeks, fearing that he would never hear those words from her again.

“I love you,” she said again.

“Come in, Gracie.” Taking her hand, he pulled her into his tiny living room, shutting the door behind her as he wrapped her up in a hug.

“I love you,” she whispered a third time, enveloping him, holding on tight.

He sighed. “I love you, too.”

“I’ve waited for you for so long.” Easing back, she stared into his eyes. “I’ve hoped for this since I realized you were gone.”

“Grace.” He kissed her. “Gracie.”

“I don’t know how to do this with you anymore. I’m afraid. But I want to try.”

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