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“Jesus Christ,” Kyler said. “So, she’s rockin’ some pretty bad survivor’s guilt?”
Griffin nodded. “Yeah. Otherwise, things feel good between us. They feel right. But I don’t think I’m imagining these moments where I half feel like she’s overwhelmed and about to bolt, or where her eyes suddenly have this hollow look, but then she blinks it away and says it’s nothing. So I’m trying really hard not to push.”
Kyler released a breath and sat back against the couch. “And how are you feeling? About the fact that she enlisted after you two broke up?”
After you rejected her. That wasn’t what Kyler said, but it was what Griffin heard. He was still struggling not to think of it that way. That his rejection led to her getting hurt so catastrophically. God, what if she had died?
He couldn’t even think about it because it made him want to puke everything he’d just eaten. “Like fucking shit,” Griffin bit out in a low breath.
“So you two are both shouldering guilt for different reasons,” Kyler said. “Just keep the communication open, man. You’re going to need it until you ride all that out.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“You know it’s not your fault though, right?” Quinton asked. “That Kenna got hurt? Just like it sure as hell wasn’t her fault that people got killed by that IED. Right?”
“Sometimes knowing isn’t the same as believing it,” Kyler said, eyeing him with perceptively. “But Quinton’s right.”
“I hear you. And she gets it, too. But, yeah,” Griffin said.
“Here they come.” Quinton jutted his chin to indicate behind Griffin, and then the ladies were back. Mia carried the pitcher and Kenna had a tray with cold, frosty glasses, her juice, and a plate of cookies.
“I couldn’t resist,” she said, grabbing the one with the most chocolate chips and sitting beside him again.
His friends’ advice ringing in his ears, Griffin leaned in and pressed a kiss to Kenna’s temple. “I like when you can’t resist things, little one.”
The blush that rose on her cheeks was fucking beautiful, and filled him with a masculine satisfaction that heated his very blood. And it was just one more thing that made him sure of what he wanted.
And that it was her.
***
Kenna woke up early Tuesday morning in Griffin’s arms.
It was an amazing feeling, not being alone after so long. And not being in pain every single day, too. She still had pain—his cock was amazing but not magical, after all. But she had definitely been feeling better for the past week or two. Maybe it was all the orgasms and endorphins. Maybe it was the high of subspace that she’d achieved again and again. Maybe it was the way that bondage provided her with such soul-deep comfort, almost like what swaddling provided to a babe. Or maybe it was not being alone with her thoughts, fears, and memories all the time. Having something else to think about—and to fill her time—definitely seemed to be good for her.
And though she’d spent most of her time with Griffin these past nearly two weeks, he wasn’t the only one filling her calendar. She’d seen her sister twice since that day she’d spilled everything at her kitchen table, and on Sunday afternoon, she’d gone to Sierra’s house for an early dinner with her whole little family.
Man, Kenna was so filled with a sense of belonging right now that she could’ve cried. And Griffin was such a big part of that. It made her realize how strong her feelings still were for him, and that she’d never truly gotten over him. Maybe it’s what you did—what you had to do—when your heart couldn’t have who it wanted, but Kenna knew for sure that she’d been fooling herself all these years.
Which was why a part of her couldn’t stop hanging on to all that guilt. Because Georgia could never have any of this. Not anymore. And though she’d heard what Griffin said, and her brain knew that he was right, her heart still hurt so bad sometimes that it felt like she was suffocating.
How am I going to face George’s mom?
Queasiness rolled through her.
Kenna was scheduled to fly down Friday afternoon and return Sunday morning. And even though her belly tossed and her chest felt too tight and her mind wouldn’t stop generating excuses as to why she should put it off, she needed to do this. Finally. For Georgia, for her friend’s mother, and for herself.
