Page 115 of Bad For A Weekend

“Does she still live in the same place?”

“Yeah.”

His head tilts. “How do you know?”

“I still stop by to check on her sometimes,” I mutter.

“You’ve been stalking her this whole time?”

“No. I don’t, like, follow her or anything. I just drop by sometimes to make sure she’s safe and—”

“And to make sure there aren’t any assholes hanging out in the parking lot creeping on her. I mean, other than you.”

“Shut the fuck up. I just worry about her.”

“Maybe leave that part out. I won’t bail you out of jail when she calls the cops.”

“Mom should’ve swallowed you.”

He bursts out laughing. “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” I chuckle at the horrified look Mom would give me.

“But seriously, just knock on her door. Spill your pussy heart out to her and see what happens.”

I groan. “What if she still hates me?”

“Then you’ll know and can move on. Pining after the same chick for three years isn’t healthy.” He swats at my crotch. I manage to block it, but just barely. “Does that thing even work anymore? Might want to make sure before you embarrass yourself.”

“It fucking works. Better than yours does.”

It’s a good thing I have such a vivid imagination because the two nights I had with Baylor get replayed in my mind nearly every day. That visual is enough to last a lifetime, though I’m hoping to make some new memories with her soon.

“Whatever.” He walks back to the front door. “You good?”

I wave him off. “I’m fine. Thanks for nothing.”

“Get her back, Owen. Your loneliness is starting to stink up the place.” He waves a hand over his scrunched nose.

I flip him off and return to my dinner. Though after one bite, I realize I’m no longer hungry. There’s only one thing I want, and she happens to live five minutes away, which was by design. I was comforted by the fact that even though we weren’t together, we were still close.

Jumping in the shower, I clean off the day and change into jeans and a simple black V-neck tee. I put more effort than I normally do into my hair and cleaning up my beard, finishing with a spritz of the expensive cologne Hudson gets me for Christmas every year.

As I slip on my trainers, I realize this is the moment I’ve been preparing for.

After I visited Corey, I took his advice and worked on getting my life together. It took me longer than I thought, but I’m finally in a place where I can honestly say I deserve Baylor. I’m mentally well, I have a job I’m proud of, and I feel like my old self again.

The odds aren’t in my favor, judging by the way she stormed out of my office, but there’s nothing I won’t do to get her back. Fucking nothing.

After a quick drive, I walk into the lobby. My hands are sweating, and the manila envelope I’m holding is getting wet. The doorman stops me before I can get to the elevator. Shit, I forgot about her security. I don’t know why; it’s the reason Corey bought a unit in the building.

“I’m here to see Baylor Giles,” I say.

“Let me call up.” He presses a few buttons on the phone. “It’s the front desk. There’s a man here to see you.” After a pause, he wishes her a good night and hangs up. “She said to let you up.”

It irks me that he didn’t ask my name, then it irks me even more that Baylor didn’t. Has she gotten so comfortable that she lets just anyone up to her apartment?

My concern grows as I ride the elevator up. She didn’t know if I was a reporter or an ax murderer. It’s irresponsible. I taught her better than this.

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