The pounding on the door startles me and I nearly jump out of my skin. I’m not expecting anyone, and I’d just talked to Riley, so I knew it wasn’t him that was practically banging down my door.
“Grace!” The shout causes my blood to freeze in my veins.
Bronn.
My first instinct is to rush to the door and throw it open before leaping into his arms. Walking, or running as it was, away from him yesterday was gut-wrenching. I’d had to force myself to keep driving and not to turn back and go to him. It had been a mistake to look in the rearview, to see him standing there looking so devastated.
He’d looked almost as crushed as I felt.
But once I’d put some space between us, I realized that it was for the best. I needed to get away from him so that I could think clearly. And once I had, I knew that I made the right decision.
Bronnson may love me, and I may love him, but there were times in life that love was not enough. It didn’t matter that I felt our connection in my soul. It didn’t matter how badly I wanted to be with him. Sometimes, people were just not meant to be. And this was one of those times. And we were one of those star-crossed couples. A modern-day Romeo and Juliet.
I hadn’t cried when I’d come to that conclusion. I’d simply accepted it.
But now, here he was, beating on my door and I didn’t know what to do.
“Grace! I know you’re home. I can see you through the door!”
Shit.
In my panic, I’d forgotten that there was a big glass window on the door that I was standing in front of.
So much for pretending I wasn’t here.
“Go away, Bronn,” I shout back through the door. “I don’t want to see you.”
It’s a lie.
I do want to see him.
More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.
“I need to talk to you,” he shouts back.
“There’s nothing left to say,” I tell him, still shouting through the door.
“I have a lot to say. Starting with I’m sorry.”
My heart begins to pound.
He’s sorry?
He isn’t playing very fair.
“If you open the door, I’ll tell you more,” he pleads, his voice sounding so sincere I can’t stop my fingers from turning the deadbolt.
I don’t remove the chain though and crack the door open. His face fills my vision, and my stomach dips. It doesn’t matter that I want to hate him, that I want to tell him to get lost. Every time he looks at me, the schoolgirl butterflies come back.
“What do you want, Bronn?” I ask, unable to conceal the exasperation in my voice.
His eyes roam my face before he tells me fiercely, “You are so fucking beautiful.”
Caught off guard by his compliment, I blink several times before whispering, “What?”
Now he’s just playing dirty.
“I didn’t tell you that enough,” he tells me, leaning into the door. He doesn’t ask me to open the door any further, doesn’t ask why the hell I’ve still got the chain on. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known.”
I’m confused. I have no idea where he’s going with this. Narrowing my eyes, I purse my lips. “Are you trying to compliment your way back into my good graces?”
He shakes his head, his eyes soft. “Nope. Just telling you what you deserve to hear.”
“Oh,” I say lamely, at a complete loss for words. “Is that all you needed?”
“When I was a kid, I used to believe in superheroes.” He leans one arm against the doorframe. “I used to think that this guy who was a mix of Superman and Batman was going to swoop in and rescue me from my shitty life.” His eyes are pointed at me, but he’s not focused on my face. Instead, he’s lost in the memory. He chuckles. “I was going to be the sidekick.” He blinks, clearing the faraway look and focuses on my face. “You know, like Robin.”
I nod, because I’m not sure what else to do or say.
“But of course that never happened. And when I got older, I stopped believing in heroes. My life wasn’t going to be extraordinary. I was destined to be a loser, never amounting to more than what everyone thought I was.”
He pauses and swallows hard. I have to swallow the lump that’s in my own throat, his words hurting my heart. Despite everything, I still wish that I could go back in time, to that broken little boy, and reassure him that he was going to be okay. I’d tell him that he was worthy of love, that his life was important. If not to anyone else, it was to me.
“Then, one fucking day, one shitty fucking day, a real life superhero strutted into my bar.” He smiles at me, his crooked tooth peeking out between his beautiful lips. “It had been a bad morning. I’d gotten notification that the man who had killed my father was filing an appeal.”
I wince, but he shakes his head. “My head bartender had quit. I’d been turned down for a loan that I’d been working my ass off to get. And in walks this woman who’s dressed in expensive clothing. She screams money and class. And she sits her perfect ass down at my bar and doesn’t even look at me as she orders an ice water, extra ice, no lemon.”
I flush, remembering how rude I’d been. I had no idea that his morning had been so bad. Not that it would have changed anything, but if I had known, maybe I would have tried harder to get him to smile. Maybe I could have said something to turn his day around.
“I thought that I had you all figured out, from one look I thought that I knew exactly who you were. And I dismissed you as nothing more than another stuck-up girl with more money than manners.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I whisper.
He reaches into the crack in the door and puts a finger to my lips, silencing me.
“Then she almost fucking ran me over.” He laughs loudly, and I can’t help myself, I laugh with him. That had probably been one of the scariest moments of my life, thinking that I’d hit someone with my car.
“And, I swear to God, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.” He’s smiling again, his face so open and honest.
My chest squeezes, the wave of emotion washing over me. It was the best thing that had ever happened to me, too.
“Most superheroes save people, and yet mine tried to back over me with her car. A fuckin’ import at that,” he scoffs lightheartedly.
I clear my throat. “How am I your superhero?”
“How are you not?” he replies quickly. “You swooped in––“ he grins, that crooked tooth that had endeared him to me peeking out, “well, it was more like squealed in, and rescued me. Just like a superhero would.”
“Rescued you from what?”
“From myself.” His eyes twinkle, his lips tipped up in a sly smile. He covers my fingers that are gripping the doorframe with his own. “Please, let me in Grace.”
If there were any hope at standing my ground, it all crumbles away when he whispers my name. Without hesitation, I close the door and throw the chain off. When I pull it open, he steps inside, crowding me and pulls me into his arms.
I bury my face in his neck, breathing deep for the first time in weeks as his strong arms hold me tight against his body. I’d been dying to feel him again, to have him hold me close, and I thought that I wouldn’t ever feel this again. I thought that I’d managed to accept it.
But now that he is here, gripping me tight around my waist, I know that I’ve been foolish to think that I will ever be able to go on living without him. At least living a life of happiness. It would be impossible. And I don’t want to try anymore.
He sets me away from him long before I’m ready to let go, but I press my lips together to stop the protest from escaping.
“I don’t deserve you,” he tells me, his fingers laced in mine.
“Bronn, not this again,” I moan, not wanting to have this fight with him.
“No, it’s true. I don’t deserve you. But, that doesn’t mean that I’m letting you go.”
“But, Bronnson, my father…” I trail off.
He squeezes my fingers. “Right. Your father. Not you. I shouldn’t have let that get in between us and what we have.”
My heart squeezes. He’s saying all the right words and I want to believe him, but I just don’t know how we can get through the obstacles in front of us.
“Grace. I love you.” His words cause the air to leave my lungs in a whoosh. “I loved you that day in the stairwell. I should have told you then. But I’m telling you now. And I’ll keep telling you for as long as you’ll listen.”
Bronn pulls me to him, my body flush with his, and puts my hand over his heart. Its beat is strong and steady, and I long to rest my cheek against his chest so that I can hear his heart beat. It feels like it’s been an eternity since I’d fallen asleep in his arms, and I ached to do just that.
“You feel that?” he asks.
My bottom lip between my teeth, I look up through my lashes and nod. I’d done the same thing to him not long ago.
“That’s what a heart full of love feels like.”
My smile stretches impossibly wide and for a minute I forget how hurt I am. “My heart’s full of love, too, you know that, right?”
He grins down at me and nods.
I struggle to fight back the laughter as I tell him, “Well, good. You won’t be mad when I tell you that that was quite possibly the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
His face falls and he pokes his bottom lip out.
I push to my toes and kiss his pout away. “But remember, I love cheese,” I whisper.
Bronn pushes a hand into my hair, anchoring my head in place. Crashing his lips to mine, his mouth is hungry. His tongue plunges into my mouth, the kiss deepening instantly. It had been too long since I’d last felt his lips on mine, but the moment our mouths collide my body responds. I pull him closer to me, all the while my heart hammering in my chest, wanting more of him. I’m breathless when he pulls away. Opening my eyes, I see him watching me intently.
“Grace, I was wrong. I should have never pushed you away. When you ran away from me yesterday, I swear to God, I have never felt so low in my entire life. I thought that was it, that I had finally fucked up so bad that there was no fixing it.”
I drop my forehead to his chest, swallowing hard. “I almost turned around,” I whisper.
“God, I was praying that you would.”
I lift my head and step back. The longer I stand in his embrace the harder it to say what I have to. We can joke and kid, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s no chance for us. He can kiss me until I turn to a puddle of mush, but it won’t make the outcome any different.
“But it was for the best, because we can’t be together,” I tell him, my voice shaky. The brick that was in my stomach feels even heavier as the words leave my lips. “It doesn’t matter how much I love you, it won’t ever work.”
I take a step back, putting distance between us. I need the space to be able to think clearly. But he follows me, not giving me the room I need.
“That’s not true,” he insists. “Your dad’s not lying. I know that now.”
My mouth falls open and I blink. “I, I don’t think I heard you correctly,” I sputter.
His lips tip up in a sad smile. “It fucking hurts to say it aloud. To admit that I was wrong. But not because I can’t own my mistakes. When it comes to you, I’ll always take responsibility for my fuck ups. And I’m taking that responsibility now.” He grabs my wrist, gently pulling me back to him.
No matter how many times I try to get away so that I can breathe and think, he’s there, crowding me and making it hard to focus on anything but the way he makes me feel when he’s close.
“What are you saying, Bronn?”
He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers. “My dad’s best friend was a guy named Tony. We called him Uncle Tony. He was the man your dad saw in the gas station that day.”
I gasp, my free hand flying to my mouth.
He keeps talking but it feels like time is moving in slow motion, his words muffled and drawn out, like the teacher from the Muppets. All I hear is noise, no actual words.
He waves his hand in front of my face. “Grace, did you hear me?”
I shake my head, both to clear it and to answer his question. “Nothing after you saying that there was another man there.”
He nods. “I said there was a surveillance system. Tony took the tapes. He’s had them all these years.” He shakes his head and mutters, “He’s a dumbass.” Raising his voice, he continues, “I have the tapes, Grace.”
I can’t comprehend what he’s just told me, but I know that it’s the missing piece that my father and I have been looking for.
A surge of relief hits me so hard that my knees buckle right before going out from under me. Bronn sees me falling and catches me before I hit the floor.
Slowly, he lowers us to the floor and holds me in his lap.
With my face pressed into his neck, I ask, “What does that mean?”
He leans back, his blue eyes bright for the first time in weeks. “It means we’re getting your dad out of prison.”