Mainly because I am already in love with Baz Kingston.
The only thing I fear now is falling for him so deeply that there is no coming up for air.
I stand outside of the condo that I came running out of just days before the entire world decided they hated me. I swore to myself that night that I’d never see him again. That I’d never trust him again, but look at what I am doing anyway.
Running back to him.
The only difference is, this time, I am leaving trust out of things. Though I will have to actively try to tamp down my feelings for him. I still am not one hundred percent sure what my plan of action is going to be. I just hope that when I see him again, everything that I’m trying to tamp down doesn’t come bubbling back up to the surface.
One thing is for certain. Whatever happens in there today, I am not leaving until he agrees to sign my conservatorship back over to one of my friends or me. I still can’t believe my parents would sign me away like that. Who could do such a thing? Do I really mean so little to them? Am I such a nuisance in their precious lives that they had to pass off the burden to someone else? Are they really okay with that person being Baz? They don’t even know him!
“Didn’t expect to see you here.”
I whirl around and shriek in surprise at the sound of the gruff, deep voice. There stands Baz in all his handsome glory. I take in the severe expression on his face and swallow thickly. I didn’t expect a welcome greeting, especially after the way we left things, but it doesn’t make this any less painful.
“Didn’t think you’d still be here.”
We stare at each other, and something in his gaze transfers to mine, encapsulating my soul. I look away, feeling the edges of my vision blur with oncoming tears. I thought I would be able to handle this, but I can’t. Just one look from him, and I’m falling apart. I turn away from him and slam my eyes shut, trying to pull it together.
It doesn’t work.
With a mind of their own, my feet move away from him of their own accord. It’s like my own mind and body know following through with this plan is idiotic. Facing him right now is too soon.
“Hey,” he says, catching my arm and turning me toward him. He pauses when he sees the tears on my face. His lips press together in a thin line, and his eyes soften around the edges. Where he was just hard and unrelenting, no more than a few minutes ago, he now seems to soften just the slightest bit, and that realization has guilt slamming into me.
He still obviously feels something. I know he does. Or maybe it’s just my wishful thinking. Why do I want to fall into his arms, and why do I want him to be the one to put me back together? I shouldn’t be here. The emotions warring inside me are obviously telling me this is a mistake.
I shake my head, shaking off his hold on me. “I can’t do this.”
Turning away from him, I try to walk away, but he doesn’t let me go. “Can’t do what?”
“This!” I point between us aggravatedly. “I thought I could come here, and…I thought I could handle this. I thought I could try. But I can’t, Baz. I can’t handle it anymore.”
I press my hands onto the side of my head, trying to make the pain stop, willing the pounding to go away. “Fucking Christ,” he hisses angrily, and in my mental breakdown, I think his anger is directed at me, but when I hear his next words, I look up, realizing it’s not. “Put the fucking phone away. Have some goddamn respect.”
Gripping my arm again, Baz uses his broad back to shield me and lead me inside, while a few bystanders stand around on the street with their phones out filming my breakdown like it’s something to be spectated and replayed. Just one more thing I need in my life.
Baz ushers me into the living room. I collapse onto the couch and drop my head into my hands. I wish he wouldn’t act like this. It makes it hard to be angry with him. Why is he always looking out for me, yet hurting me in equal measure?
I hear him settle in the seat across