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She should be better at this by now. Maybe she needed to harden her heart. Be the ice queen. The thought of it made her want to laugh, because if there was anything she wasn’t, it was icy.
She didn’t have it in her.
Putting his t-shirt on the kitchen counter – because let’s face it, she was taking it back upstairs – Grace walked into her living room and slumped down on the chair.
Had she been wrong to tell him they couldn’t be friends? For a moment, she tried to imagine it. Waving hi to him atChairs, nodding to him when they filed into church. Sending him a message about a bad day she was having and him commiserating but never holding her.
No, she couldn’t do it. As much as she missed him, she couldn’t settle for the friend zone. Couldn’t watch him date other women. The thought of it was like a knife to her heart.
Ugh, she couldn’t sit still. It gave her mind too much space to think dark thoughts. Her bedroom closet was rearranged, the kitchen was sparkling, and there was no more laundry to do.
Her brows lifted. She’d do some yard work. Sure, it was almost evening, and her yard was mostly deck and paving, but she could find some weeds if she looked hard enough. It’d give her satisfaction to yank them out. Pushing up from her chair, she rolled her shoulders and started walking to the kitchen.
And she didn’t stomp this time. That was progress, wasn’t it?
The shrill ring of her doorbell stopped her in her tracks. She turned and walked to the front door, pulling it open to see Michael standing there.
And her stupid heart did a loop-de-damn-loop.
He was still wearing the clothes she’d seen him in at church, though his tie was gone and his top two shirt buttons were unfastened, revealing the slightest smattering of chest hair. The hair on his head was mussed, like he’d run his hands through it too many times.
It reminded her of all the times she’d mussed it up in bed.
“Can we talk?” he asked, his dark eyes capturing hers.
Grace swallowed. “I thought we already said everything we needed to. I told you, I don’t want to be friends.”
He didn’t move an inch. “I don’t want to be your friend.”
And damn if that didn’t hurt. She wouldn’t flinch, though, not this time. “Good.” She went to close the door, but he put his foot in the way.
“Please,” he asked, his voice soft. “Just two minutes of your time.”
“You’re not coming in.”
“I don’t want to. I can say it all right here on your doorstep.” He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and she didn’t follow it with her eyes at all.
Okay, she did. But hell, what else was she supposed to look at? The dip in his throat where it met his chest?
“You want to put on a timer?” he asked, a smile ghosting his lips.
“This isn’t funny,” she told him, because it wasn’t. It was sad. Because all the love she felt for him wouldn’t vanish, no matter how much she wanted it to.
His smile disappeared. “I know. None of this is funny. And it’s all my fault.”
She said nothing. But damn right it was.
“So maybe I can try to explain. And apologize.”
She let out a short breath. “For what? Why? Haven’t we done this enough? Haven’t you hurt me enough already?”
He winced. “Yes. Too much. Way too much. And I can’t tell you how much I hate that.”
A wave of exhaustion washed over her. Being hard-hearted had taken it out of her. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it up. “Okay, then go. Two minutes.”
He nodded, running his hands through his hair. “I was wrong, so wrong, not to fight for you. I thought I was doing a good thing in walking away. Making sure you didn’t have to choose between me and your family—”
“I didn’t ask you to do that,” she interjected.
