Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Like he feels me looking at him, he turns his head my way. He gives me a tight smile, and I smile back before dropping my eyes to my book. A few days ago, he told me about the situation with his sister and that she was planning on moving home, but he hadn’t talked to her since then, so hopefully, everything is okay. Hearing the sliding door open, I look up from my book as he closes the door and walks toward the bed. Falling onto his stomach, he wraps his arms around my thighs and drops his chin to the tops of my knees.
“Sorry that took so long.”
“It’s okay.” I slide my fingers through his hair that is a mess after our shower. “Is everything alright?”
“No.” He shakes his head, pressing his lips to my knee. “Nalia called our parents this morning and told them about the situation, and shit hit the fan. They are pissed at her and now pissed at me because she told me, and I never filled them in on what was happening.”
“Why didn’t she want to talk to them?”
“You’d have to ask her that question. My sister is a conundrum all her own.”
“Is she still moving back here?”
“She’ll be here Tuesday, and not surprisingly, Mom and Dad are taking over. Dad’s flying out tonight to help her drive back while Mom works on getting her an apartment close to them.”
“Does she want that?”
“She didn’t. Then Dad told her that you were staying with me, and she decided that it would be better if she and Zuri got a place of their own.”
“Did you tell her that I have my own place and that I’m not living with you?” I ask softly.
“No, because you are staying with me.”
“Yes, I get that, but I have a room at Kourtney’s house. I don’t live with you.”
“You’re not staying there, Oli, not even when the alarm system is put in.”
“Then I can stay with my parents, so your sister feels comfortable at your house.”
“That’s not happening.”
“Bax, I don’t feel comfortable being the reason Nalia feels like she has to rush into an apartment when that is not what she wanted to do. Something I completely understand especially when she is moving across the country and needs a little time to find her footing.”
“You’re not the reason she’s not staying with me.”
“You just told me that she is getting an apartment after finding out I’m staying with you,” I whisper, and his jaw clenches. “Look, I like staying with you, but you know that I’m eventually going back next door or even finding my own apartment.”
“Can we talk about this later?”
“No, I want to talk about it now.”
“Olivia.” He sighs.
“Bax.” I use the same tired, put-out sigh he did, and he glares at me.
“I like you with me.” He bites out, and my annoyance melts away in an instant.
“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.”