And he had. He’d always been there to talk about Ben, never treated me like I was too fragile, and had always pushed me to keep going. Everything I’d needed, and everything I’d pushed away.

“I’m so sorry, Jag,” I whispered a minute later.

He exhaled slowly, and when he spoke, there was a hint of the pain he’d been in since I’d left. “I never should have told you.”

“Why?” I looked at him again, and when he still wouldn’t look at me, I reached out for him.

“Because you ran away from me, Grey.” The pain in his voice tore through me, and my arm fell limply at my side. “You ran, and you stayed gone. But I get it, Grey, I swear to God I do. I understand why that upset you, why you aren’t okay with it. I thought—I thought if I gave you time, you would change your mind. I came here hoping enough time had passed, and I don’t know what I would’ve said to make you change your mind. But after seeing you come in . . . seeing how much better you look now that I’m not in your life . . . I can’t stand the thought of watching you go back to how you were. I can’t do it now.”

“Jagger . . .” The plea in that one word was clear, but in that moment, I still wasn’t positive what I was begging of him. To forgive me? To understand why I was trying so hard to not let anyone else touch my heart? To know that I needed him more than he realized . . . more than even I had realized?

“I just needed you to know that I understand, Grey.”

Before I could ask what he understood, he turned around and walked away from me. In our short conversation, he’d never once looked at me. My eyes went back to the drawing of me, and I listened as his heavy footfalls drifted away. I could feel each step like it was another nail in the coffin of my relationship with Jagger, as friends or something more. I knew what I did right then would forever change Jagger and me.

If I continued to look at this drawing for another minute before walking away from the gallery, then that would be it. We could never go back to the way we had been, because we couldn’t go back to being as close as we were now that I knew how he felt. I couldn’t do that to him; I couldn’t give him hope that there would someday be an us when I knew that I would never allow it. He would eventually find someone else, and I . . . I would just focus on moving.

But if I stopped him, then the dynamics of our relationship would change in a way everyone had already been expecting them to. A way Jagger wanted them to. A way I wanted them to.

That thought shook me as I finally admitted what I’d been trying so hard to deny. I wanted this. I wanted him.

“Jagger,” I mumbled, and turned to look for him in the gallery. He was twenty feet away from me, shaking a man’s hand, with his back to me. “Jagger,” I said louder when he began walking again.

He glanced over his shoulder for a second, before pausing and turning to face me. His face went blank in an attempt to mask his emotions. I walked toward him, each step feeling a little easier than the last—as if my decision was solidifying with every step closer. He didn’t move toward me, and didn’t say anything when I stopped directly in front of him, just looked at me with those green eyes . . . waiting.

“I’m sorry that I ran,” I whispered, and a muscle ticked in his jaw from the strain he was putting on it. “I was scared, and I think I still am. But I’m not better without you. It hurts to be away from you. This?” I gestured to the side and shrugged. “Seattle? I needed to think about what you said, what my family said . . . I just needed to think. I can think here with Janie, but that doesn’t mean I’m better here. And all of this”—I gestured toward myself—“was only because of tonight. Janie and Heather did this because they thought I would see you. I miss you every day, Jagger. I don’t know how long I would’ve stayed gone, but please . . . don’t stay away from me for me.”

Taking a step forward, I leaned into his chest as I had done so many times in my life, and I knew that this was right—this was where I needed to be now. His arms automatically came up around my waist to hold me, and I sighed against his chest.

“I’m scared.”

“Why? If you’re scared to lose me, you won’t. I’ll always be here for you.” His voice was low, and the way it rumbled through his chest and against my cheek was something so familiar and so calming. When had I started craving this?

“Not that. I just . . . I don’t know how to let myself love you too,” I confessed, and felt his body tighten against mine.

Lifting my head to look at him, I paused when I found his face inches from mine—closer than it had ever been. I let myself take in everything about him that I never had before. His green eyes that seemed to look straight through me, the bridge of his strong nose leading down to full lips that were usually in a playful smirk. But now that my gaze was on them, they slowly parted as his breathing deepened, his chest moving harder against mine. When I looked up again, his eyes were dark with want.

“Loving you scares me,” I whispered, “but I know I can’t keep telling myself that I’m not in love with you, Jagger.”

“Excuse me.” A voice called out from next to us, but neither of us moved until I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned and took a step away from Jagger when I saw an older woman standing there. Her pondering expression turned excited when I was facing her. “It is you.”

“I’m sorry?”