Page 73 of Knot Her Beta

He shifts his grip on his cane, and his free hand comes up to grip my shoulder in what might be a hug if we were better at this. My hand finds his upper arm, and we stand there a moment, two people who used to know how to be friends and now don’t.

“You didn’t have to come all the way down,” he says. “I could’ve found you in arrivals outside.”

“I wanted to.” I drop my hand and step back. “How was the flight?”

“Long. There was turbulence over the Rockies.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You?”

“I drove. No turbulence.”

His laugh comes out rusty. “Smartass.”

As we drift toward the carousel, he walks with a slight hitch in his step when he puts too much weight on the bad leg, and his knuckles whiten around the handle of his cane as if in pain. Up close, he appears even more tired, the corners of his lips tight with exhaustion.

Whatever happened back east took something out of him.

The carousel groans to life, and suitcases slide onto the metal track. Grady leans on his cane, tracking the parade of black nylon and hard-shell spinners.

“I packed light,” he says. “Just the one bag. It’s navy blue with a sticker of a dragon on the side.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Dragon?”

He snorts. “It was merch promo for one of the Aurora Storm books. Chloe slapped it on so my suitcase would be easier to find.”

His suitcase appears, scuffed at the corners, a luggage tag flapping from the handle, and sure enough, a sticker of a dragon.

Before he can move, I step forward and heft the bag off the carousel. It’s heavier than I expected.

Grady reaches for the handle. “I can get that.”

“I know.” But I don’t pass it over.

He studies me for a beat, then swallows his pride and concedes.

We make the slow walk to the parking garage, his cane tapping a steady rhythm beside my footsteps. The silence between us stretches, filled with everything we haven’t said.

I should speak. I rehearsed three different openings on the drive over, and now all of them sound wrong.

The elevator doors to the parking garage close behind us, and Grady settles against the wall, his attention on the floor numbers as we descend.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt.

He turns to me, one eyebrow cocked in question.

“For disappearing when everything with Carson was happening. And after it all blew up.” The words come out too fast. “You were there for me when I needed someone, and then I just... went quiet. That was shitty of me. I should have reached out.”

Grady stays quiet until the elevator dings at our level.

“I could’ve reached out, too,” he says as the doors open. “It wasn’t all on you.”

“It was, though.” I lead him into the garage, the suitcase wheels rattling over concrete. “You’d already done enough. More than enough. I was the one who pulled away. I was an ass.”

He stops beside a concrete support pillar and turns to me. “Yeah. You were.”

I wince.

“But I get why.” His mouth quirks. “Carson did a number on you, and then you had the falling out with Emily, and everything got complicated.” He shrugs. “It’s okay, Leif. I’m not holding a grudge.”

The knot in my throat dissolves. “You should. At least a little.”