Page 16 of Until Bax

“I’m next door if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” My muscles relax, and I let out the breath I’ve been holding when he steps outside.

“Make sure you lock up.”

“I will.”

“Night, Oli.”

“Night, Bax,” I whisper, and he looks over his shoulder when he gets to the bottom step, his eyes sweeping over me and seeming to linger before he drops his gaze to his boots and makes his way down the sidewalk.

I wait until he reaches his driveway before I shut and lock the door, then turn toward the living room. I think about looking for the sheets for my bed, but instead, I go to the kitchen, take out the spaghetti I made last night, and put it in the microwave.

As I’m sliding some garlic bread with shredded cheese under the broiler in the oven, my cell phone on the counter rings. Seeing it’s Rebecca calling, I slide my finger across the screen and put it to my ear.

“Hey! How was—?” I cut myself off when I hear her sob. “Oh no, what happened?”

“He’s dating someone.”

“What?” I whisper, my heart physically hurting from the pain I hear in her voice.

“That’s why he wanted to meet up. He said he thought he should tell me in person rather than over the phone.”

“Oh, Reb.”

“Wejustbroke up.” Her voice cracks. “He told me he loved me. He said he didn’t want to break up when I told him that we should take a break. Now, he’s dating someone else, and it’s apparently serious.”

“What a dick,” I say quietly.

“I know.” She drags in a shaky breath. “I’m glad I didn’t move in with him.”

“Me too,” I agree, feeling like an ass for making her feel bad about her decision when obviously she was right and I was wrong about him.

“Can I come see you?” she asks, the plea clear in her voice.

“Of course you can.”

“Okay, I’m going to talk to Helen tomorrow and see if I can take a few days off. Maybe I’ll fly in at the end of next week and stay through the weekend.”

“I’d love that. We can explore Nashville together,” I tell her, the idea replacing some of the guilt I was feeling with a bit of excitement.

“Maybe I’ll meet someone there,” she says through a sigh.

I scoff. “How about we just plan on girl time?”

“That’s probably smart.” She sniffles. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I get to work and talk to Helen.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.” She hangs up, and I let out a breath, then finish what I started.

I take the spaghetti out of the microwave and sprinkle it with fresh parmesan, then put the lid on it. I wrap the garlic bread in foil, then put two of the apple oatmeal spice cookies I normally eat for breakfast in a baggy. I place everything in one of the warmer bags I use for my lunch, then grab my keys and leave the house.

When I arrive next door at Bax’s, I ring the bell and wait, then wait some more, as my insides twist into a nervous mess. Just when I’m about to leave, the front door opens, and my mouth instantly goes dry. Seeing Bax fully clothed might knock me and the rest of the female population off-kilter, but him standing in front of me wearing only a pair of sleep pants, with his tattooed, muscular torso on display, turns my brain to mush, and my insides liquid.

“Oli?” He frowns, and I shove the bag I’m holding at him.

“I didn’t want you to have to cook,” I say, and he lifts his eyes, which were on the bag now in his hands, to me. “It’s just spaghetti and garlic bread.” I back up a step and stupidly don’t realize there is anactualstep behind me, so I stumble backward off it.

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