Letting Go
Page 9
His mouth lifted up on one side, and he dropped his head as he walked toward me. Only lifting his eyes to meet mine, he shrugged. “This is my place now.”
“Are you using it for a studio?”
“Uh . . . no. There are two rooms in the back, both about the same size as the upstairs loft. I’ll use one for a studio and another to store the rest of our stuff for now. But I’m going to live here.”
“Seriously?” My eyes widened and I looked around me again. “I didn’t know you could live here.”
“Back when my grandparents were using it, the upstairs was an open office so they could look out at what was going on down here. There was a small bathroom up there, but we remodeled it so it’s bigger now, and has a shower and everything. There’s a bathroom in the back and another in here.” He gestured to a door off to the side. “We remodeled those so they look nicer. There’s a laundry room hidden behind the pantry that we put in. I didn’t know what to do with the floor. The back rooms and the loft had hardwood put in right before my grandma passed, so I left that, but I kind of liked the way the concrete looked for this room. So they just put the dark sealer on it, and called it a day.”
I looked down at the glossy floor and nodded. “I like it, it fits with the brick walls. And the kitchen?”
“Ah, yeah, that’s new,” he murmured, turning to look at it.
“It’s huge.” Jagger made some type of agreeing noise, and I nudged his side. “You also don’t cook.”
“No,” he said on a laugh. “But it looks nice.”
I studied it for a few more seconds before turning to look at him. “Who is ‘we’?”
He turned his head to face me, furrowing his brow as he did. “What?”
“You kept saying ‘we’ when you were telling me what had been changed. Is someone moving in with you?”
It hit me then that there might have been another reason he didn’t want me coming here. I hadn’t seen Jagger with a girl in years, but I also hadn’t known about this place, and I’d been so focused on trying to move on with my life that it was extremely possible I didn’t know about a girl he’d been talking to back here in Thatch. The thought stole my next breath and left a sinking feeling in my stomach—but I couldn’t begin to understand why. I wondered for a second if he had been patching things up with his ex-girlfriend, LeAnn, and the sinking feeling grew. It morphed into something so unfamiliar and unwelcome that I tried to force thoughts of Jagger with anyone from my mind.
I swallowed roughly and took a step away from him. “That’s so not my business, you don’t have to answer that.”
Jagger laughed and started walking toward the door. “Since when is my life not your business, Grey? You’ve made it your business since we were nine.”
My smile was shaky when I glanced up at him before following him out. “I just realized that you might have someone moving in with you, and that may have been why you didn’t want me to help you unload the truck.”
I turned to look at him when I realized he’d stopped walking and I’d passed him. His lips were forming a tight line and his eyebrows were slanted down over his eyes in that way he had when something was bothering him.
“Like I said, it’s not my business,” I mumbled when he just kept looking at me.
He dropped his head and cocked it to the side, but not before I saw his lips quirk up—giving him a bewildered expression. “No one’s moving in with me. ‘We’ is just me, and the guys who did the remodeling, I guess.”
“Okay.” I blew out a heavy breath, but I couldn’t figure out if it was out of relief or hurt that Jagger had hidden something like this from me. “When did you even start this? I had no idea.” I leaned up against the truck and crossed my arms over my chest as I tried to process that Jagger had been the one to have the building renovated.
“Right after fall semester started.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea that you even wanted to come back to Thatch until a week ago, and this whole time you’ve been remodeling the warehouse so you could live here?”
Jagger didn’t look up at me when he walked past me and opened up the back of the truck, and for the second time today, I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me. “I just didn’t think it was that big a deal. We had to focus on graduating.”
By that, I could only imagine he meant that he had to keep me focused on graduating. I’d known I would move back to Thatch, so had Jagger, but we never really talked about it because it would unnecessarily bring up the subject of Ben. And it was with that realization that I knew I had my answer. Jagger was always trying to protect me, and that’s all his secretiveness about the building was. Instead of trying to get confirmation, I kept my mouth shut as I helped him move all the furniture out of the truck and into the warehouse. He knew I was grateful for him; that had never been a question.
A FEW HOURS later, we’d successfully moved all of my furniture into the farthest room in the back and set up all of his things in the front room and bedroom. I also had a newfound hatred for the stairs that led up to the loft. I wasn’t built to help carry mattresses and dressers up two flights of stairs.
“Are you alive?” Jagger asked as he came down the stairs.
“No,” I groaned from where I lay sprawled out on the floor.
“Do you regret coming with me now?”
“Are you using it for a studio?”
“Uh . . . no. There are two rooms in the back, both about the same size as the upstairs loft. I’ll use one for a studio and another to store the rest of our stuff for now. But I’m going to live here.”
“Seriously?” My eyes widened and I looked around me again. “I didn’t know you could live here.”
“Back when my grandparents were using it, the upstairs was an open office so they could look out at what was going on down here. There was a small bathroom up there, but we remodeled it so it’s bigger now, and has a shower and everything. There’s a bathroom in the back and another in here.” He gestured to a door off to the side. “We remodeled those so they look nicer. There’s a laundry room hidden behind the pantry that we put in. I didn’t know what to do with the floor. The back rooms and the loft had hardwood put in right before my grandma passed, so I left that, but I kind of liked the way the concrete looked for this room. So they just put the dark sealer on it, and called it a day.”
I looked down at the glossy floor and nodded. “I like it, it fits with the brick walls. And the kitchen?”
“Ah, yeah, that’s new,” he murmured, turning to look at it.
“It’s huge.” Jagger made some type of agreeing noise, and I nudged his side. “You also don’t cook.”
“No,” he said on a laugh. “But it looks nice.”
I studied it for a few more seconds before turning to look at him. “Who is ‘we’?”
He turned his head to face me, furrowing his brow as he did. “What?”
“You kept saying ‘we’ when you were telling me what had been changed. Is someone moving in with you?”
It hit me then that there might have been another reason he didn’t want me coming here. I hadn’t seen Jagger with a girl in years, but I also hadn’t known about this place, and I’d been so focused on trying to move on with my life that it was extremely possible I didn’t know about a girl he’d been talking to back here in Thatch. The thought stole my next breath and left a sinking feeling in my stomach—but I couldn’t begin to understand why. I wondered for a second if he had been patching things up with his ex-girlfriend, LeAnn, and the sinking feeling grew. It morphed into something so unfamiliar and unwelcome that I tried to force thoughts of Jagger with anyone from my mind.
I swallowed roughly and took a step away from him. “That’s so not my business, you don’t have to answer that.”
Jagger laughed and started walking toward the door. “Since when is my life not your business, Grey? You’ve made it your business since we were nine.”
My smile was shaky when I glanced up at him before following him out. “I just realized that you might have someone moving in with you, and that may have been why you didn’t want me to help you unload the truck.”
I turned to look at him when I realized he’d stopped walking and I’d passed him. His lips were forming a tight line and his eyebrows were slanted down over his eyes in that way he had when something was bothering him.
“Like I said, it’s not my business,” I mumbled when he just kept looking at me.
He dropped his head and cocked it to the side, but not before I saw his lips quirk up—giving him a bewildered expression. “No one’s moving in with me. ‘We’ is just me, and the guys who did the remodeling, I guess.”
“Okay.” I blew out a heavy breath, but I couldn’t figure out if it was out of relief or hurt that Jagger had hidden something like this from me. “When did you even start this? I had no idea.” I leaned up against the truck and crossed my arms over my chest as I tried to process that Jagger had been the one to have the building renovated.
“Right after fall semester started.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? I had no idea that you even wanted to come back to Thatch until a week ago, and this whole time you’ve been remodeling the warehouse so you could live here?”
Jagger didn’t look up at me when he walked past me and opened up the back of the truck, and for the second time today, I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me. “I just didn’t think it was that big a deal. We had to focus on graduating.”
By that, I could only imagine he meant that he had to keep me focused on graduating. I’d known I would move back to Thatch, so had Jagger, but we never really talked about it because it would unnecessarily bring up the subject of Ben. And it was with that realization that I knew I had my answer. Jagger was always trying to protect me, and that’s all his secretiveness about the building was. Instead of trying to get confirmation, I kept my mouth shut as I helped him move all the furniture out of the truck and into the warehouse. He knew I was grateful for him; that had never been a question.
A FEW HOURS later, we’d successfully moved all of my furniture into the farthest room in the back and set up all of his things in the front room and bedroom. I also had a newfound hatred for the stairs that led up to the loft. I wasn’t built to help carry mattresses and dressers up two flights of stairs.
“Are you alive?” Jagger asked as he came down the stairs.
“No,” I groaned from where I lay sprawled out on the floor.
“Do you regret coming with me now?”
