Jim stalked the loft, pacing the length and width, measuring off every inch, every nook and cranny, getting used to being alone again.
He had never had much luck with family or relationships in his life. Most of his adult life had been spent alone. When Blair had first entered his existence, he'd gone into their relationship kicking and screaming. But time had won out, and Blair had won not only his confidence and his friendship, but his heart.
He wore Blair's wedding band on the pinky of his left hand, beside his own. How could he have thrown him out . . . again? He'd sworn he'd never do that, under any circumstances. The first time had been, well, he wasn't going to go through that again. He wouldn't lose Blair twice.
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