7. Olivia
CHAPTER 7
Olivia
B linking my eyes open, I focus on a framed Nashville Predators jersey covered with dozens of signatures. I didn’t notice it was signed last night, but I did catch onto a theme when Bax opened the door to his guest room. Lots of sports memorabilia, from signed footballs to autographed posters of players, and everything displayed in a way that makes it feel less like a teenage boy’s bedroom and more like you’re sleeping in someone’s trophy room.
Pulling the heavy white duvet higher up beneath my chin, I close my eyes, which still feel tired despite falling asleep without much effort. Then again, Bax’s guest bed is comfortable, and the blankets and sheets all feel like something from a high-end hotel.
I likely wouldn’t have had the same luck going to sleep next door. Every odd noise and sound Kourtney’s house makes would have kept me awake and on edge all night, and I doubt I would have gotten any sleep at all.
Knowing I should probably get up despite how comfortable I am or how badly I want to go back to sleep, I reach for my phone lying next to me on the mattress to check the time. As soon as I pick it up, the screen comes to life, and my eyes widen in disbelief. It’s almost eleven when I assumed it was maybe eight—eight thirty at the latest.
“Crap,” I groan, tossing back the blanket.
My dad and Liam should be here soon, and neither knows what happened last night. I dial my dad’s number as I get out of bed and listen to it ring as I put on my bra. When the call goes to voicemail, I hang up and quickly put on my hoodie and sweatpants. My dad’s truck is old, and he doesn’t have Bluetooth, so he never answers when he’s driving, which means he’s likely on his way.
After I’m dressed, I open the door to the bedroom, and the delicious smell of coffee greets me as I make my way down the hall. The house is silent; the only noise I hear comes from Ira when she sashays toward me, with the bell on her collar tinkling.
“Hey, pretty girl.” I lean down and pick her up. “Where is your dad?”
She doesn’t answer but begins to purr as I carry her through the quiet house. When I step into the kitchen, I can tell Bax has been up a while since the coffee pot on the counter is mostly empty, and there’s a coffee mug and dirty plate from what looks like breakfast next to the sink.
I must have slept hard because I didn’t even hear him moving around this morning.
Walking to the back door, I look outside, wondering if he’s out with Gemma, but he’s nowhere in sight. I leave the kitchen and stop to drop Ira onto the back of the couch in the living room before I go to the door leading to the garage. The sun through the open garage greets me when I open the door, and Gemma rushes toward me with Lucy, my brother’s pup, right behind her.
I start to step down the single step into the garage to say hello to both girls, but I stop in my tracks when I realize the four-wheelers that were parked in here last night are gone, and in their place is my couch, along with my dining table and a few other pieces of my furniture.
“Hey, kid.” Liam comes around the corner, carrying one of my dining chairs. “How did you sleep?”
“Umm… okay.” I look from him to my chair. “What’s going on?”
“Bax is letting you store your shit here since you’re not planning on staying at Kourtney’s very long.”
“What?” I shake my head, then look at my dad when he appears in the open doorway, carrying another chair.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His eyes are soft on me and filled with concern as he places the chair next to the one Liam set down. “Bax called us this morning and told us what happened. You doin’ okay?”
Crap. I totally should have called or sent him and Mom a text last night. “I’m fine. Sorry I didn’t call, but I?—”
“It’s okay,” he cuts me off. “I know you were in good hands.” He walks to where I’m standing and kisses the side of my head, catching me by surprise. I’m not saying my dad is overprotective, but he’s definitely overprotective. And any other time, he would be getting onto me for not calling him immediately to let him know what happened.
I know that for certain since I got a flat tire in Chicago a couple of months ago, and he lost his shit when I told him about it a few hours after I had gone about fixing it myself. And in that situation, he was hundreds of miles away.
“Your mom is next door, sorting through some of your boxes. She said you mentioned wanting to put your kitchen stuff and things you don’t need right now into storage.”
“Uh… yeah,” I agree as my gaze connects with Bax’s across the garage when he walks in with two of my dining chairs. Even obviously tired, he’s still gorgeous, and after last night, I feel indebted to him in some odd way. Then again, he did run over to save me—and mostly naked—having no idea what was going on or if he was putting himself in danger.
“Ready?” Liam calls out to our dad.
“Yep,” he responds, then takes his eyes off Liam and focuses back on me. “We’re going to get some more stuff.”
“I’ll be over in just a minute. I need to grab my keys and shoes from inside.”
“Take your time.” He kisses the side of my head again, then follows Liam out of the garage, leaving Bax and me alone.
“Did you sleep okay?” the beautiful man asks, moving my chairs to the top of the table while never taking his eyes off me.
“Apparently, too well. What time did you get up this morning?”
“I never went to sleep,” he replies, and guilt wraps around my insides at the soft confession. “It worked out. I was able to make room for your shit in here and talk to Talon, who confirmed that my old windows are in one of the storage buildings we own a couple of towns over. He’s going to bring us one in an hour or two.”
“You should have woken me up.”
“You needed sleep,” he counters.
“So did you.” I let out a breath, then look around at my stuff that has started to fill his garage. “You don’t have to let me store my stuff here. I can use Liam’s unit or get my own.”
“I know, but it’s really not a big deal. I don’t use the garage for anything other than my four-wheelers and my bike.”
“Yeah, but you do use it, and now you won’t be able to because all my stuff will be in here in the way,” I argue, crossing my arms.
“It’s only for a few months.”
I raise a brow. “Do you have a hero complex?”
“A what?” He laughs, pushing the couch closer to the table.
“A hero complex. Like… do you get a high from feeling like you’re saving the day or rescuing the damsel in distress?”
He grins, making my stomach flip. “Are you the damsel in this scenario?”
“I’m being serious.” I sigh, and his eyes roam over my face as his lips tip up into a much different smile—one that looks almost… flirtatious?
“I can see that.”
I can’t do this right now. I need to get my shoes and go over to Kourtney’s to make sure my mom doesn’t find anything she’s not supposed to in the boxes I haven’t had a chance to go through yet. Not that I really have anything I’m worried about her seeing, but you just never know since some of my stuff was just dumped out of drawers and into boxes by the movers. And although I’m sure my mom has assumed I’ve had sex by now, it’s not something we’ve ever talked about, so I’m not sure how she might react to finding a random unopened condom or two.
“I’m gonna get my keys and my shoes.”
“You have an iced coffee and breakfast waiting for you at Kourtney’s,” he tells my back when I turn to open the door behind me.
I look at him over my shoulder, and he holds up his hands. “Don’t worry. I didn’t try to save the day by making sure you had food and caffeine. That was all your mom’s doing.”
“I don’t remember you being so annoying,”
“I don’t remember you being cute when you’re annoyed,” he shoots back, and that immature part of me that had a crush on him when I was a kid preens under the idea of him thinking I’m cute.
“Whatever,” I sigh and listen to him laugh as I walk into his house, with both Lacy and Gemma coming with me.
When I get next door a few minutes later, the front door is wide open, and I can hear one of the Christian rock groups my mom likes as it plays softly somewhere inside.
“Hey, honey.” Mom turns toward me when I step over the threshold, her eyes scanning me in a way that I know she’s making sure I’m still in one piece.
“Sorry, I wasn’t here sooner.” I walk to where she’s standing and kiss her cheek.
“You needed sleep.” She repeats what my dad said, and Bax reiterated. “You have food and an iced coffee in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” I look around the room. With the largest pieces of my furniture out of the house, things don’t look as daunting as they did yesterday. But still, there are lots of boxes. “So, which of these have you gone through so far?” I start to take off my hoodie so I can help.
“Nope.” She shakes her head at me and points toward the kitchen. “Go eat first, and then you can help.”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s good, but you still need to eat something.”
“Mom—”
“Eat.” The one word is spoken in that tone that lets me know she’s not going to let up.
“Fine.” I walk into the kitchen, grab the paper bag sitting on the counter, take out the breakfast sandwich, then pick up my iced coffee and carry both back into the living room. When my mom meets my gaze, I take a very unladylike bite and watch her roll her eyes.
“I’ve sorted through all of those.” She motions to the boxes stacked up near the door. “Most of it is kitchen stuff.” Her eyes come to me. “I don’t know why you have so many things to cook with when you have obviously been living on takeout for the past few years.”
“I haven’t been living on takeout.” I don’t roll my eyes, even though I want to.
“The abnormal amount of plastic to-go containers you have from fast food places says you’re a liar.”
“I just feel bad throwing them out.” I shrug, taking a bite.
She nods. “I’ll take them to the homeless shelter downtown next time I go. They might be able to use them there.”
“Sure.” I take a sip of my coffee, which is a little watered down but still makes me inwardly sigh with happiness.
“The boxes over there seem to be clothes and shoes,” she tells me, and I nod while taking another bite of my sandwich. “And that is just stuff you’ll have to go through yourself.” She points at a stack of four smaller boxes.
“You’ve been busy,” I mumble around a mouthful.
“Dad and I got here at nine.”
Explains the melted state of the ice in my coffee.
I cringe. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She eyes me closely. “How are you feeling? I know last night must have been scary.”
“It was, but honestly, Bax came over right after it happened, so I was okay,” I assure her.
She looks relieved. “I’m glad he was next door and heard the glass break.”
“Me too,” I agree, and her eyes begin to roam over my face like she’s inspecting every detail of my features. “What?”
“You’re all grown up,” she says like she just now noticed that I’m not a little girl anymore, which is weird.
“Yeah,” I concur softly.
“You’re a very beautiful woman.”
“Where is this coming from?” I want to laugh—not because she’s being funny but because I feel slightly uncomfortable with how she seems to scrutinize me.
“Nowhere.”
“Mom?”
“Never mind.” She waves a hand between us. “It’s just something your dad said.”
“About what?” Now, my heart is starting to speed up its beating with my growing anxiety.
She glances toward the door, then lowers her voice. “About Bax.”
“What about him?” My brows draw together.
“That he?—”
“Can we start taking all these boxes?” Bax’s voice comes from behind me, cutting Mom off and making me jump. I spin around to face him, feeling like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar, even though I know I wasn’t doing anything wrong. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” I mumble, and he looks from me to Mom, then back again.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I shift on my feet, then glance at my mom. “All of that is kitchen stuff, right?”
“Yep,” she chirps, not hiding her own guilt very well.
“Okay.” He looks between my mom and me as he picks up two boxes. When he easily carries the heavy load out the door, I start to ask my mom what she was going to say but cut myself off, thinking maybe it’s better if I don’t know.