“But now her mother’s here and—”
“Janelle won’t bother you,” he says, anger edging into his voice. “I promise.”
“Maybe she won’t. But it’s not like I can totally avoid her. She’s the librarian now. We’re bound to cross paths.”
His eyes darken, right along with his energy. It’s like a storm cloud has just moved in over us.
“What is it?” I ask.
He shakes his head, closing his eyes as if he’s trying to forget I even asked.
I wait for him to explain, but he doesn’t, and by the time he opens his eyes again, he’s totally guarded. Cold.
“I should… probably just go,” he finally says. “Good night, Stevie.”
“That's it? You have nothing else to say?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I keep trying to tell you there’s nothing going on with Carly, but you don’t want to hear it. You’ve got trust issues.”
“Hell yeah, I’ve got trust issues.” I glare at him, forcing myself to keep the hurt out of my voice. “Listen, I've told you about my parents. There wereeverythingto me. When I lost them, I didn't think I could survive it. Somehow, Ididsurvive, but not fully. It left me guarded and afraid of getting too close to anyone other than my best friend Jessa.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I can meet you partway there, Baz, but I need you to come the rest of the way.” I reach up to touch his face, my thumb tracing his lips. “The other night, after we were together? You asked me if I could just trust you. All of you guys have asked me that at one point or another. And I'm trying, Baz. I really am. But the thing is, I need you to trust me, too.”
“I know.” Baz sighs, warm breath ghosting over my thumb. “Fuck, Stevie. I know. I’m sorry.”
“Sometimes when I look at you,” I say, my voice no more than a whisper now, “I feel like… like there’s all this stuff inside you. Like you have so much to say to me, but you’re too afraid to say it. You just keep trying to outrun it instead.”
I give him a chance to confirm or deny it, but he does neither. Just looks at me, the emotion in those red-brown eyes threatening to drown me.
“It doesn’t work that way,” I try again. “Believe me. Run as fast and far as you want—it’salwaysgoing to catch up with you.”
Still, he says absolutely nothing.
And finally, I run out of words, too. The right ones, the wrong ones, they’re all gone right now.
I give him a sad smile, then lower my hand from his face, already missing the feel of his skin.
“Goodnight, Stevie,” he whispers.
“Goodnight, Baz.” I blow out a breath and step inside, closing the door before I even finish saying his name.
* * *
It’s been a crazy long day, followed by an impossibly long night. All I want to do is unwind, change into my PJs, then pass out. Tomorrow’s a new day. Reset button for the win.
One hour, one bubble bath, and one cup of cinnamon cardamom tea after I shut the door in Baz’s face, I’m just about to turn in when my doorbell chimes.
The Devil card flickers behind my eyes, and even before I check the video monitor, I know it’s the devil himself—Baz. No doubt back for another argument about trust—it seems to be a sport with him now.
I yank open the door to find him standing in the hallway, sexy and full of fire, his energy an overwhelming wave of desire mixed with fear mixed with raw, unchecked vulnerability.
He’s hurting.
I press my hand to my heart. “Baz? What’s—”
“You’re right.” He shoves a hand through his hair and meets my gaze, his own blazing a brand new fire. “Idohave something to say, Little Bird. And it’s about fucking time I said it.”
