“Graham wants me in here to make sure you don’t try to steal my wife from me.”
Grey rolled her eyes once I stopped pacing and was facing her again, and grabbed for Jagger’s hand when he sat next to her. “Are you going to tell me why you’re so weird, or do I have to guess?” Grey asked me. “And by the way, that was super rude. You could have asked me to walk; you didn’t have to drag me.”
“I didn’t drag you,” I mumbled as I ran my hands over my face. I sighed heavily and tried to talk myself out of telling her, to play everything off as another way to piss Graham off, but I needed to tell someone. “She’s in Richland, Grey. I saw her.”
She blinked slowly, then asked, “Who?”
“Her!”
“Oh yes, of course, her,” Grey scoffed, and Jagger looked away to hide the smile slowly crossing his face. “And by ‘her’ I can only begin to guess you mean one of the many girls you’ve slept with since you all finally started sleeping with girls outside of Thatch,” she said in a detached voice. “Come on, Knox, how on earth am I supposed to know who you mean? Is it one of the crazy ones? You know I can’t keep up with all of them.”
I glanced to my door then walked quickly over to shut it. When I was back in front of them, I spoke softly. “Harlow. Harlow is in Richland. She lives there—she has for years.”
“No way,” she whispered, and her eyes widened. “Whoa, wait. We just talked about her! Did you already know she was there and you didn’t tell me?”
“No. Are you kidding? You think you would’ve just now found me like this if I’d known all along?”
Grey shook her head, then smiled widely as her eyes brightened with excitement. “Well, this is great, Knox! I mean, she’s in Richland; that’s not far—you work there! How did you even see her?”
“I saw her when I was grabbing coffee on my way home. We talked for a little while.”
“She’s married,” Jagger said, speaking up. It hadn’t been a question, and I could hear the sympathy in his tone.
“What? No, she’s—wait, how do you know?” Grey asked, then looked back to me.
I ground my teeth and looked away from them for a second, and Jagger took the opportunity to continue talking.
“Knox looks how I felt every day of the seven years that you were with Ben.”
At the mention of Grey’s late fiancé, I automatically glanced in her direction to make sure she was okay. He had died suddenly just days before their wedding was supposed to happen three years ago. But instead of watching her break down, as I had so many times before, she just looked at me like she understood and felt sorry for me . . . and I knew her husband was to thank for that.
Jagger, Grey, and Ben had all been best friends growing up, and Jagger had been in love with Grey forever. When Ben had died, Jagger continued to be her best friend and help her through two years of grieving until Grey realized she was in love with him, too. It had been an easy transition for them, and it was obviously the best thing for Grey. I would always be thankful to Jagger for it—as I knew Graham and Deacon were.
If anyone knew how I felt, it was Jagger. He’d waited nine years for the girl he loved, and I’d been waiting seven. The only difference was Grey had never known that Jagger loved her, and Harlow had always known how I felt about her . . . and she’d chosen someone else.
“Is she, Knox?” Grey asked, her eyebrows pinched together like she was worried about what my answer would be. “Is she married?”
“Of course she is . . .”
“Knox,” she whispered, and stood to take a step toward me, but I stepped back.
“He is why she didn’t choose me.” Grey tried to take another step toward me, this time with her arms outstretched, and again I took another step back. “Don’t.”
“Why?”
“If you do, then I know that it really is over.”
Grey’s face morphed from sympathy to worry. The room was silent for a minute before she said, “She’s married. It is over.”
I was shaking my head before she’d gotten it all out. “You didn’t see her. You don’t understand.”
“Knox.” Now her voice was stern. “You cannot try to break up her marriage.”
“I’m not, but you don’t understand. She started crying as soon as she saw me, Grey, I know she—”
“I always had your back when you were waiting for her to be old enough, but this is different. You can’t do this. If she started crying when she saw you, then she has her own issues she needs to sort out, and you need to stay away from her while she does.” I started to talk, but she cut me off. “What are you going to do? Have an affair with her and be happy with that?”
“Grey,” I snapped, but to be honest, I didn’t know what my answer would have been. All I knew was that I still wanted Harlow, and she was so close.
“If she’s the kind of girl who would do that, then maybe Graham and Deacon were right about her all along. Maybe you were just a game to her, and maybe you still are.”
“No—” I began.
“Yes.”