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 it kills 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. Touch me.
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’t healthy 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 not fixed.”
“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 to us. 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.
“Hell nah.” I scoff. “Gracie or bust, man.”
“Even though she’s shacked up with another guy?” There’s a taunt in there, but it’s a serious question with the faintest hint of concern. “It’s been, what, two months since she got back?”
“Not two,” I mutter, but Stevie doesn’t hear me.
“You can’t stay in limbo forever, Braxton.”
“It’s not limbo,” I protest. “We’re both healing.”
“If you say so.” He hums, dubiousness dripping through my headphones. “Hey, gotta go. Need to shower, or it’ll be a waste of a night.”
I roll my eyes. “It’ll be a waste as soon as she catches sight of your mug.”
“Hey, don’t hate me because you ain’t me.” I groan at the cringiness, but then Stevie adds, “Get out of your apartment. Go to a group session. Go for a hike with your dad. Do something other than sitting there, and missing what you can’t have.”
“Yet.”
“What?”
“You said ‘missing what I can’t have,’ and it’s what I can’t have yet.”
There is a soft exhale of air. “Right.”
He wants to tell me to stop hoping, that some bridges can’t be mended, but I’m not done fighting yet. I’ve barely gotten started, and his words will fall on deaf ears. Gracie needs more time, and I’ll give her all of it. I’ll be waiting when she’s ready.
“I might go catch up with Nick,” I say, almost to myself. “Feels like I’ve barely seen him lately.”
“Good, good. Just get out of that apartment,” Stevie orders. “Stop looking at those same walls. You can work on fixing what you broke, including your own hard head, but you don’t need to rot away while you’re doing it. Living your life is not a crime, Braxton.”
The words hit me with force, stealing the air from my chest. I exhale heavily, coughing, leaning forward to snatch my water bottle off the table in front of me. I gulp down half of it in one go while Stevie makes a knowing sound in my ear.
“That truth might hurt, but you have to keep acknowledging what’s holding you back. You know Gracie isn’t the only problem. Until you accept that guilt over surviving when that girl didn’t, you aren’t truly gonna heal at all.”
“Fuck, you’re an asshole,” I rasp.
Tension lightened, Stevie laughs. “An asshole who’s about to get laid. Catch you later!” There’s a muted click, and he’s gone, leaving me listening to the sounds of the game. I yank the headset off and get up, determined to prove him wrong.
I’m alive and kicking, and if there’s a quiet voice in my head, derisively mocking me for it, well…I’ve gotten real good at ignoring it.
I grab my phone and message Nick, seeing if he wants to catch up. Thankfully, he reads it immediately, the little bubbles popping up as he replies.
Nick
Benson’s?
My stomach curdles at the thought. I haven’t been back since New Year’s, and tonight is not that night.
Braxton
Nah, man. It’ll be a while before I can walk through those doors without wanting to hit you back.
Nick
Fair. Tell you what, you can get a free shot if Analise ever plants one on me.
Braxton
Like she would. You’re still on cootie level for Annie.
Braxton
How about we just go for a burger? The diner shouldn’t be too busy.
Nick
Meet you there in five.
I won’t be surprised if his five actually means three, so I throw the phone down and hustle into the bedroom, finding a clean shirt and spraying some deodorant on. This way, I can at least pretend I showered.
I walk into Hal’s Eatery just in time to catch Nick claiming a booth, but I cast a cursory glance around anyway, freezing when a familiar laugh rises above the rest of the chatter. I don’t want to look, knowing it’ll only hurt…but I’m too hungry for the sight of her not to.
It takes less than a second to clock Gracie, sitting in a booth at the other end of the diner from Nick. She’s facing toward me, but going off the head of dirty blond hair across from her, I know she’s with Nolan. And her eyes are gleaming with humor—a sight I haven’t seen in too long.
Before she catches sight of me, I turn away, practically jogging across the restaurant, diving into Nick’s booth and ducking down.
Luckily, Nick’s facing Gracie’s table, his eyes flicking between her and where I’m huddling down against the vinyl seat. “The fuck are you doing?” he demands.
I smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “She’s happy,” I explain shortly. “She sees me, and that will disappear like that—” I snap my fingers. “So just pretend I’m not here and let her be happy.”
Nick gives me a long look, like he thinks I’m a few crayons short of a box. “Braxton, we can go somewhere else.”
“No,” I say urgently, the skin over my face feeling too tight. “It’s fine. Let’s just order, okay?”
Almost like I summoned him, one of the servers, Chet, appears at the end of our table, only giving my hunched-over position a disinterested look before pulling out his pad. “Hey, guys, you know what you want?”
Nick gives me one last look before shaking his head, focusing on Chet. “Yeah, can I have the blue cheese and beef burger? And an iced tea, please.”
He writes it down, before looking at me, questioning. I give him a tight smile. “I’ll have the daily special burger.”
Chet lifts an eyebrow. “You wanna know what it is?”
I shake my head. “Nope. As long as it’s not vegetarian, it’s all good. Just need my carbs and protein.” I laugh a little too loudly, my cheeks flushing when Chet just gives me a blank look. “And a soda. I’ll have a cola, please.”