Page 69 of Until Bax

“Good luck. He might not have moved his ass from the stool in my kitchen this morning, but that was only because Rebecca was there.”

“I know.” I sigh. “If he doesn’t answer, I’ll call my mom. She has Rebecca’s number too.”

I press call on Liam’s number, and of course, he doesn’t answer, which is annoying, so I call my mom. After explaining the phone situation, I ask her to text me Rebecca’s number, then agree to meet her the day after tomorrow for dinner. When I hang up with her, I call Rebecca, and she’s already been through security and is just waiting for her plane to board.

She doesn’t get into what she and Liam talked about on the way to the airport, and I don’t press. When she’s ready, she’ll tell me. By the time I end the call with her, Bax and I have made it back to his house with Gemma, and the moment we step through the door, he picks up my bag from the floor of the foyer.

“Do you want to watch TV or go to bed?” he asks as I kick off my clogs, adding them to the pile of his shoes.

“I’m good with watching TV. I just want to put on my pajamas first.”

“All right.”

He carries my bag down the hall, and I follow him to his bedroom that isn’t decorated as nicely as the rest of the rooms in the house. Sure, the furniture is all fantastic, the bed, dressers, and side tables all heavy, dark wood, but the walls have swatches of paint on them like he’s been trying to decide what color to go with. And when I used his bathroom, I noticed it’s much the same, with paint swatches on the wall and stacks of tile and building material shoved into what is probably the linen closet but is missing the door and shelves.

I have no doubt that when he's done with both rooms, they will be just as stunning as the rest of his house, but I have no idea when he’ll have time to complete the jobs since it seems he really doesn’t have time for anything but work. And now I’ve been taking up space in his life as well.

After dropping my bag on the bed, he starts to get undressed, taking off the hoodie he was wearing and the T-shirt beneath it. I get so lost in watching him strip down to his boxers that I forget what I’m supposed to be doing. His body reminds me of the Greek statues I’ve seen in art museums, every contour and detail sculpted to perfection after years and years of tireless labor by the artists. I’ve never seen a living, breathing man who is as beautiful as he is, and it’s no wonder there are women who still haven’t gotten over the fact that they had him for a moment but couldn’t keep him.

That thought causes my stomach to sour and a weight to settle heavily in the center of my chest. This is so new, and even if I know he’s into me right now, that doesn’t mean I get to keep him either, and I hate the reality of that thought.

“What’s with the face?” I come out of my thoughts and focus on him, finding that he’s now got on a pair of flannel, forest-green-plaid pajama bottoms.

“Nothing.” I shake my head and unzip my bag, pulling out my pajama set that is similar to the one I wore last night—short shorts and a tank that has thin straps and lace along the hem of both the top and the bottoms.

“It was something.” I feel him get close, then frown when he takes the fabric from my hands and tosses it onto my bag. “What were you thinking?”

“Nothing.” I don’t fight him when he turns me to face him, so we are chest to chest, and he touches his fingers to my chin, lifting my gaze to his.

“Don’t lie.”

“Honestly, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about how this”—I wave a finger between us—“is so new.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

“Olivia.”

“You know, it’s kind of annoying that you won't just let things go.” I glare at him.

“Yeah, and it’s kind of annoying that you won't just tell me what you were thinking,” he counters.

“I did tell you.”

“No, you didn’t. All you said is ‘this is new.’” He slides his fingers out so he can wrap his hand around my lower jaw.

“Fine, this is new, and I’m wondering what might happen when the newness wears off?”

His fingers tighten. “I think we have a lot of time before we need to worry about that happening.” He dips his chin, bringing his face closer to mine. “And I think we have enough shit to deal with right now without you getting in your head about when this is going to end.”

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” I lie.

“Good, keep it that way.” He kisses me hard, then pulls back and drops his gaze to my bottom lip as his thumb slides across it. “Meet me in the living room after you change.”

“It’s also annoying that you’re bossy.” I narrow my eyes on him, and he smiles.

“You’ll get used to it.”

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