preparing himself for the conversation ahead, Baz took a deep breath and keyed in the code to unlock the door. When the lock disengaged, he could hardly hear it over the pounding of his heart and the overabundance of maybes and probablys running through his head at the moment.
This was the worst idea he’d ever had. Maybe.
He was going to get shot down. Probably.
Oh, hell. What was he doing?
He shook off the negative thought. Backing out was not an option.
When he woke up this morning, Baz had decided today would be the day he confronted JJ. He’d given her a reprieve for the past few weeks because he could tell she felt bad about standing him up. However, he had fully expected her to approach him. Since she hadn’t and likely wouldn’t, he knew he had to make the first move—bad idea or not.
Which meant he had to do this.
More negative thoughts snuck in.
He would be spending the rest of the night alone. More than likely.
He could very well be spending the entire next year alone.
Okay, so that was doubtful, but, hey, it still intruded when it wasn’t necessary.
Of course, Baz wouldn’t know any of those for certain unless he tried, right?
That right there was a definite. What was the saying? You didn’t know unless you tried?
On the other hand, it wasn’t like it could be any worse than the guy who said, Hey, Coca-Cola’s a great product, but why don’t we try something new?
Here goes nothin’.
He opened the door, stepped inside.
“I told you, Brantley, I’m not goin’,” JJ shouted from upstairs. “Might as well give up.”
Baz let the door close behind him as he headed for the stairs. His stomach twisted, something it had been doing for the past month. Although he was pulling it off, pretending he wasn’t affected by JJ shunning him, there was no denying it hurt. Especially since he’d thought they were making strides in their relationship.
Of course, if you asked JJ, she’d say they hadn’t been in a relationship at all.
“Hey,” he greeted when he stepped onto the second floor, stopping with his hand on the rail.
JJ’s head snapped over, her light green eyes wide. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Nothing came out, but Baz continued to wait, content to just stare. She was by far the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. And no, he wasn’t usually one to wax poetic, but there was something about JJ.
She looked good tonight, as usual, dressed down, casual, with her shoulder-length dark hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, held in place with a big plastic clip. A few strands had come loose, brushing her cheeks, more hanging at the back of her slender neck. The gray University of Texas sweatshirt she wore was at least two sizes too big, covering all those glorious curves. But the jeans… Heaven help him, they were the dark pair, the ones with the rips in the knees, and they molded to her in a way that should be a crime. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted a bright glittery green, and beside her desk was her favorite pair of slippers, the brown suede Uggs with the fuzzy stuff inside.
“Why’re you here?” she asked, her voice coming out in a harsh whisper as she got to her feet, clearly surprised to see him.
“Same reason you are.”
Her eyes narrowed, searching his face as though she was translating his words into a language she understood.
“Because you’d rather work on New Year’s?” she scoffed. “Doubtful.”
Baz remained where he was, blocking her only escape path should she decide to run. Knowing JJ, that was certainly something she was considering.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she stated. “You should be out”—she waved her hand toward the wall—“celebrating with everyone else.”
“While you’re working? Doesn’t seem fair,” he replied.
They were at an impasse, staring at one another as though waiting for the other to make a move.
Finally, JJ spun on her heel, started to pace away. Baz prepared to follow despite the fact there was nowhere to go, but realized it wasn’t necessary when she turned around suddenly and marched back toward him. Her hands went to her hips, and there was a frown on her beautiful face.
“Why’re you really here?” She took another step forward. “And don’t lie to me.”
Baz found it interesting that she always tacked that on, although he hadn’t lied to her once.
“Figured I’d be shitty company if I went out,” he explained. “Since I didn’t