The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(4)

“Yep, Lowell booked the Landarlin. Probably got his balls strung up for being so over the top.”

Elliot isn’t wrong, but I don’t tell him that. As much as Nina has changed for the better over the years, she will always have her quirks.

I place the glasses into the sink then turn to face him. “I don’t know; Mase loves it when she gets fiery with him. It’s like their kinky foreplay or something.”

“True,” Elliot agrees, watching me for a second before sharpening his eyes on me. “You sure you’re okay? I know you liked the fucker.”

The fucker he’s referring to is my boyfriend, Miller. Well… I guess you’d call him my ex-boyfriend after he dumped me this morning. I probably should be sad, and I am. Miller and I were together on and off for a little over two years—a record for me. It was okay. Not bad. Not… special. And then last Christmas, when he tried to propose, and I hesitated for a second too long, he checked out. It was like he gave up, and I don’t blame him. The poor guy’s been trying to take things further for months. It’s what I’ve always wanted. More. The marriage proposal, house, kids. The happily ever after.

So why wasn’t Miller enough?

The clock’s ticking, and all I can think about is how I won’t be where I want to be when it strikes out.

I think back to this morning and how things ended so bitter.

“Miller, just give me a second to articulate what I want to say!”

He rounds on me before I fully get my words out, stopping me in my tracks. “What? What could you possibly have to say after last night?” His eyes transfix on me as if he’s crazed, yet they hold nothing. Or if they do, I don’t see it.

Miller shakes his head at me before looking away to continue packing the last of his things. There isn’t a lot to take with him, and in this moment, I wonder if I should’ve pushed us to live together sooner. Maybe it would’ve sparked something.

“Is this to do with Beth?”

He twists to face me again. “Beth?” The arch in his dark eyebrows as they reach for his hairline makes my throat ache. I shouldn’t be passing the blame when I know this is on me. “Fucking Beth!”

I swallow around my clunky words and pray they come out better. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that.”

With his hands resting on his hips, he takes a deep breath and lifts his eyes to mine. This is probably the first time I’ve seen any real reaction from him in the two years we’ve been dating, and it sends a twinge of pain through my chest to think we might have nearly been there. Or he might have been.

“Lucy, you don’t want me.”

My eyes fill with tears, and I take a half step toward him. “I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

He’s right. I roll my lips as emotion builds, blurring my sight. I want to want him. Why isn’t that fact enough? And why for once, just this one time, can’t I fall for the good guy? “I’m so sorry, Miller. It’s not you, it’s—”

“You.” He nods, sniggering as he lifts his duffel bag from my bed and pulls the strap to lie against his firm chest. He doesn’t mean for his words to hurt me—he hasn’t got it in him to hurt someone intentionally—but they do. “I hope you find what you’re looking for in life, Luce.” He stares at me through a mask of indifference, not moving. And I know I could keep him. I could beg this man to stay in a relationship with me, and he would.

It’s the sort of man Miller is.

And it’s why I don’t say a word.

But I do cry. I don’t feel what two years of dating should bring me at its end, but I do shed a tear. For me? Miller? The fucked world we live in? I don’t know, but I have an overwhelming sense of loss as I stand alone in my apartment, clinging to a dream that has just been squashed once again.

A dream I’ve never felt further away from.

“I’m fine, Ell.” I swallow past the lump in my throat as I push a wayward strand of blonde hair from my face. Licking my lips, I look up at him, and like every other time our eyes connect, he sees. “Ell…”

“Bed.” He tips his head towards my room. “Come on, Megs is gonna be a while yet, and I don’t want your mascara staining my shirt with those tears I can see brewing.”

The warmth of his palm encases mine, and he pulls me through to my bedroom.

“Ell, you should leave.”

That’s what I should say. I should tell him to leave. I shouldn’t want him to stretch out his six-foot-four body on my bed or pull my head down to his sculpted chest or hold me while I sleep.

Elliot has become something he shouldn’t have over the years, and I’m not afraid to admit it. My family see it. My friends see it. Fuck, even Miller saw it. They know me and how my mind works.

Elliot Montgomery isn’t just my friend.

He’s so much more.

“Sleep, Luce. Leave your worries in today and sleep into tomorrow with me. You’ll be alright.”

He’s my safety blanket.





2





Lucy





“Seriously?”

It’s Friday night, and I’m standing alone at my kitchen counter holding what my friends consider the perfect “get over Miller gift.”