Page 95 of Until Bax

“And I like being with you.” I slide my fingers through his hair. “But eventually, we’ll have to go back to some kind of normal.”

“Why?”

“Why?” I frown.

“And what kind of normal? Since you moved in next door, you’ve basically stayed with me—maybe not in my bed, but you’ve been under my roof every night.”

“Yeah, and that’s not normal.”

“Fuck normal.” He pushes off the bed and begins pacing back and forth across the room. “What does it matter if you move in with me now?”

“I’m not moving in with you,” I scoff.

“Why?”

Setting my book aside, I sit up. “Because.” I toss out my hands. “We are just starting to get to know each other.”

“And.”

“And?” I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t think I need another reason.”

“I’m not going to sleep without you next to me, not even just a few days a week. Fuck that.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” I tell him softly, even though sitting here, I realize that I don’t like the idea of sleeping somewhere else either, even if it is just a few days a week. “I think we should table this conversation until we get back home.”

“No, you wanted to talk about it now, so let’s talk.”

“Bax.”

“Give me another reason.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” I sigh. “And shouldn’t you be happy I’m not trying to move in and take over your house?”

“Why the fuck would I be happy about that when I want you there? I want to come home from work and find you in the kitchen surrounded by a mess, and to trip over your shit on the bedroom floor, and to have to move your stuff out of the way so I can brush my fucking teeth without your crap falling in the sink.”

“Umm, you’re making it sound like I’m a slob.”

“You’re not a slob, babe, but you do leave shit everywhere, and when you cook, you do it like you’re a contestant on a cooking show, and someone else is going to come in and clean up after you. The thing is, I fucking love it. I love your shit all over the place, and the mess you make in the kitchen and the way walking into my house now feels like I’m coming home because I know you’re there even though I’ve lived there for years.”

Oh my God, my throat gets tight and starts to burn.

Holy shit, I’m in love with him. When did that happen?

“I…”

“You know what?” He walks over to the chair in the corner of the room and grabs his jeans. “Never mind, we’ll just continue to pretend you’re just staying the night every night.”

“I…”

“Does that work?” He looks over at me.

“Umm.” I shake my head. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he grumbles

Okay, I think I’m in shock, and not because I just agreed to move in with him in some weird way. No, I’m still stunned by the fact that I’m in love with him, and I’m pretty sure he loves me back.

“I love you,” I blurt as he buttons his jeans, and the annoyance around his eyes and mouth melts away as his face gets soft.

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