Page 15 of Until Bax

I turn to my parents.

“Do you want us to help with anything else tonight?” Mom asks, looking around at the massive amount of boxes and furniture that has taken over Kourtney’s living room.

“No, I need to go through everything, and that’s going to take a little time.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. You guys already did too much.” I hug her tight. “Thanks again for coming on such short notice.”

“You know we’re here anytime you need us.” She lets me go and starts to put on her coat as I look over at my dad, who holds open his arms to me.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“No problem.” His lips press against the top of my head. “I’ll be over Saturday to start taking stuff to storage.”

“You’re the best.” I let him go and allow him to move toward the open front door, watching him take Mom’s hand to help her down the steps. Wrapping my arms around my middle, I stand in the doorway and wait until they are backing out of the driveway before I close the door.

When I turn to face the living room, I draw in an exhausted breath, then maneuver around my couch that is pushed up against Kourtney’s, with my dining table stacked on top of it. I walk past the kitchen, the half bath in the hall, and the spare room Kourtney uses as an office that is attached to my room through a Jack and Jill bathroom. Her bedroom is on the opposite side of the house. When I reach the end of the hallway, I squeeze past my mattress that is propped up against the wall and step into my bedroom, finding Bax bent over the frame of my bed as he puts it together with tools he must have brought over from his house at some point.

“You really didn’t have to do this. I could have had my dad or even Liam help me this weekend,” I say quietly, and he lifts his eyes to mine. From a distance, they look crystal blue, but up close, I know they’re seafoam green with a jade ring, keeping the lighter shade contained within, the colors unique to only him.

“It’s not a big deal, and it will be better than sleeping onthattonight.” He motions to the twin-size air mattress that is half deflated and folding in on itself.

He’s not wrong. I’ve been using it for the past few days while I waited for my stuff to get here and have woken up each morning practically on the floor, with every inch of my body aching.

“Did Liam ever call you back?”

“Yeah, but he was downtown, so I told him not to worry about coming since everything was basically inside at that point.”

He nods, then watches me as I step farther into the room.

“How can I help?”

“I’m about done.” He moves to my forest-green, velvet, pin-tucked headboard and lifts it with ease, sliding it into the slots that attach it to the frame. “Do you have your sheets?”

“They’re somewhere in one of the boxes in the living room. I’ll just sleep with the sheet and blanket I’ve been using and find them tomorrow.” I help him push the headboard up against the wall and then look around the room. It’s smaller than I thought it was—or it seems smaller, now that my queen-size bed, dresser, and side tables are taking up most of the space.

“What are you going to do with the rest of your stuff?”

“Liam said I could just put everything in his storage unit, but I’m not sure it will all fit. So I might have to rent something myself.”

“Since I helped him put all of his shit in there, I can tell you now that you’re going to have to rent something. How long are you planning on staying with Kourtney?”

“I don’t know for sure.” I follow him into the hall and walk to the end of my mattress so I can push it into the room while he pulls it, doing most of the work. “But I’m thinking six months, maybe a little longer.”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back to Chicago?” He steps into my space, and my muscles bunch when he presses his hand against my stomach to move me out of the way so he can tip the mattress onto the frame.

“No.” I rest my hand where he just touched me, still feeling it there. “My plan is to stay here,” I say, as he walks around to the other side of the mattress to tug it over the rest of the way while I push it from my side. “Mom and Dad aren’t getting any younger, and I just want to be closer to them.” I blow a piece of hair out of my face, and he watches it float through the air before meeting my gaze once more.

“I get that,” he replies softly, pulling his eyes off mine to look around. “Do you want help with anything else tonight?”

“No. Honestly, you’ve already done too much. I owe you one.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s late. I can get everything sorted this weekend.” I step out of my bedroom, and he follows me down the hall and into the living room, where he grabs his coat from its spot over the back of the couch. I move past him to the door and open it. “Thanks again for everything.”

“No problem.” He stops so close I’m forced to tip my head back to meet his gaze. I would be a liar if I said that I didn’t feel my stomach flutter at the sight of him towering over me, with his dark hair a mess and the scruff covering his jaw.

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