Page 13 of Paxton

“How has living with Paxton been?” Reese asks from where she sits to my left, Blakely on the other side of her, and Hadley on the other side of Blakely.

We dominate most of the patio furniture up here, though there are a few other girls that’d been invited to the partythrough connections to different Badgers, leaning against the railing across the way, still watching the show.

“It's been great,” I admit, leaning back into the cushioned oversized sofa. “You know Pax,” I continue. “He went out of his way to stock the house with everything I like, and we’re hooked on true crime documentaries. I make a different snack every night while we watch them. He’s made it almost too easy to transition into living with him.”

I glance behind us, down the bank where Paxton, Lawson, Nash, and Baylor are currently helping Clay set off the fireworks, the five of them looking like teenagers from the way they’re laughing and lighting fuses.

“That doesn't sound liketoo easy. That sounds like a dream,” Blakely says, and I return my attention to her.

I chuckle softly. “I only mean that after what happened with Liam, there'd be a little more stress and a lot less contentment.”

“I think that’s a sign,” Reese says, eyeing me knowingly. “Of being with someone who understands you.”

“I’m not with Paxton,” I say, though for some reason, it feels like a lie.

I swallow hard, contemplating opening up to my friends about justhowcontent Paxton has made me feel lately.

I've always been comfortable around him because we have deep sense of trust earned over years of friendship, but ever since he found me stranded at that festival, ever since he moved me into his home and I spent almost every waking minute with him, I've been feeling more and more conflicted. Every previous innocent touch has ignited a deep need in me that I can no longer hide or deny.

And as much as I want to tell them now, there are too many people up here, and the last thing I need is for the rumor mill to start churning out stories about me and my track record with Badgers.

Besides, I keep thinking these feelings will pass. They have to.

“I definitely have no complaints,” I finally say, waving to the few rookies who climb the stairs and join the girls across the way. I've worked on so many of the Badgers, it's a marvel I can remember all their names. “Of course, I'm sure Paxton would have some complaints?—”

“Complaints about what?” Paxton’s voice cuts over mine, his smile effortless as he makes his way over to me, plopping down on my right and extending an arm behind me, the move natural and easy.

“About me taking over your space,” I say, unable to ignore the way my heart takes off at his nearness, sending this giddy little sensation bubbling beneath my skin. He looks entirely too good in a pair of light-colored pants and a dark green polo that makes his eyes pop. I've always known exactly how handsome Paxton is, but lately it's been extremely hard to ignore.

Lawson, Nash, and Baylor join our little group, and Nash sets a cardboard box down on the table resting in the middle of our little circle.

“Please,” Paxton says, shaking his head. “You’re the perfect roommate,” he continues. “There's no way I could ever complain.”

Warmth floods my body, his sweet compliments about me completely unearned. “What? You’ve seen my skincare spread all over your guest bathroom, right? There’s barely any counterspace left.”

“First of all, it’s your bathroom while you’re living there.” He shrugs. “Second of all, it doesn’t bother me.”

“I’ve also taken over your pantry.”

“I like the new snacks you’ve stocked it with.”

Goddamn him, why is he so wonderful?

Blakely and Reese are giving me looks that say as much too.

“Done blowing stuff up?” Reese asks Nash, who fiddles with the box.

“Yep,” Nash answers. “Clay told basically told us to fuck off.”

“He did not,” Lawson argues. “He said he was almost out of fireworks, and we could go be with our girls.”

Nash laughs. “Which is basically fuck off in Clay language.”

I laugh, shaking my head. Clay is certainly grumpy, but I know underneath all that he has a huge heart. Anyone can look at the way he cares about the Badgers or the way he is with his adorable niece and know that he’s a secret softy.

“You guys want to try out this new card game we got this weekend?” Nash asks, popping the lid on the cardboard box with black and neon pink writing on it. He gestures to the others that are across the boathouse, and they come over. We all make room, shifting into a circle that almost takes up the entire upper half of Clay's boathouse.

“How do you play?” one of the girls—I’m not sure her name—asks as she situates herself on a chair next to a few of her friends and a couple of the rookies.

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