9. Brea
brEA
“Stop fidgeting,” Keira remarks as I tug down the emerald green.
“I wouldn’t have to keep tugging it down if it didn’t ride up.”
Keira rolls her eyes as she adjusts her own leather jacket over the sleek black mini dress she wears. “You look stunning, even if you’re treating that poor dress like it’s trying to escape.” Me and the dress both. When Keira said it was a welcome party for the book signing tomorrow, I didn’t expect to walk into the hotel bar and have every seat be filled with ladies in prom dresses, tiaras, and cocktails, along with guys wearing skin-tight unbuttoned dress shirts or shirtless cuts to show off their abs. Keira squeals next to me.
“Oh my god. This is amazing!”
It’s something alright. It’s an anxiety attack waiting to happen. Parties were never really my thing, considering my sheltered upbringing, but large crowds and I have never mixed well. Seeing the throng of people in the bar sets my nerves on end. If the welcome party is this busy, how many people will be at the signing tomorrow?
“Look, B! Over there in the rainbow dress. It’s Jaime Russell. Oh! Melissa Filla is next to her. We should go say hi.”
“You go right ahead. I think I’ll stay right here. It’s less people-y.”
“Oh no, we’ve come this far. You aren’t going to chicken out. Besides, the welcome party may be your best chance to get time to talk to Eden Anderson. She’s going to be so busy tomorrow that she may not have time to really talk about her books. You know I have a million questions I want to ask about Ares.”
“I don’t see her,” I declare, scanning the crowd around us. “I doubt she’d come to something like this.”
“Um, hello, she’s the event sponsor. Of course, she’ll be here. Come on, let’s take a lap and see if we can find her.”
Keira grabs my hand and drags me through the crowd, her excitement palpable as she weaves like an expert through clusters of giggling girls and their swaggering dates. I stumble behind her, trying to keep up without getting knocked into someone else’s cocktail or tripping over a purse that looks more like it could be a suitcase. Just as we're approaching what seems like the prime selfie spot—an elaborate backdrop festooned with glittering fairy lights—she suddenly lets go.
“Be right back!” she shouts over the music before disappearing into the throng.
And just like that, I’m alone again in this pulsating sea of humanity. The vibrant chatter swells around me but feels isolating rather than communal. Every laugh rings louder than my own heartbeat thudding in my ears. This isn’t really where I want to be but slipping away would mean letting Keira down and she has already done so much for me.
I turn toward one side of the bar where there are slightly fewer bodies milling and start making my way there when out of nowhere…BAM! I'm slammed against solid muscle, trailing off mid-thought while bracing myself against his chest for balance as something cold splashes onto me from above.
“Oh shit! I am so sorry!" My voice bursts forth before I even fully register who stands tall before me. A guy whose raw presence commands attention despite standing shoulder-to-shoulder with hundreds tonight. His hair is pulled tight into a man bun atop his head. It makes him look fierce yet oddly inviting in this chaotic space filled with shimmering dresses and glinting accessories.
His dark eyes widen momentarily, the drink in his hand now a sopping mess cascading down the front of his black leather jacket. The rumble of laughter and chatter around us fades as I focus on him, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I didn’t see you there!” My voice rises an octave too high. A desperate plea for forgiveness rolls off my tongue.
“Looks like we both ended up soaked tonight,” he replies, brushing a few glistening droplets away with leisurely elegance.
“I can get you another…” My words tumble out hurriedly.
"Don’t worry about it," he chuckles. “I don’t mind getting a little wet with a beautiful woman. I’m Fox,” he adds, his voice smooth like well-aged whiskey he is drinking.
“Can I get you another drink?”
“Are you planning on getting us both soaked again if I say yes?”
My heart races at his playful tone, and I manage to let out a small laugh despite the nervous flutter wreaking havoc in my stomach. “Of course not,” I reply quickly, feeling slightly bolder. Flirting with danger feels like an entirely different thrill.
He leans closer. Close enough that I can see distinct tattoos winding around his forearm, intricate designs swirling together into something beautiful but menacing all at once, much like him. “I’d much prefer to get you wet, firefly.” His words ooze with confidence, setting my heart racing for reasons beyond his boldness.
"Firefly?" I repeat, tilting my head to study him closely.
"Yeah," he drawls, leaning back until our eyes lock in an intimate moment shielded from the crowd's scrutiny. "Since you didn’t give me your name, I have to call you something now, don’t I? You've got that sweet glow about you."
“I, uh…” I stammer.
“Do I make you nervous?” His laughter dances through the air between us, a rich, textured sound that pulls me deeper into this moment where nothing else matters. The chaos of the party blurring into an inconsequential backdrop. “You seem like you might be trouble,” he says.
“Me? Trouble?” I feign innocence, my lips curling into a smile despite the rising warmth in my cheeks as I shy away from the intensity of his gaze. “I think trouble usually finds me instead.”
“Aren't we all just seekers of trouble in a place like this?” Fox gestures around us broadly, and I suddenly notice other party-goers sneaking glances our way. Some with raised brows and some with envy. “
“More like over-caffeinated fans needing an excuse to dress up.”
“You’re probably right about that. But, what’s the fun in life without pretending to be something else every once in a while,” he declares boldly, stepping closer as if drawing from some unspoken well of confidence. The intimate distance feels electric and dizzying all at once. “How about we go get that drink you owe me and we see how the night goes?”
Before I can dwell too long on the implications of that invitation, before doubt can creep in to spoil the spontaneity, I nod. "Alright, let's do it."
His grin widens, revealing a set of charmingly crooked teeth that somehow add to his allure. Fox takes my hand with easy confidence, threading his fingers through mine and pulling me through the crowd toward the bar. The chatter and music swell around us, but they fade into a background hum as our eyes lock, creating an unspoken connection that sends thrills racing down my spine.
"What's your poison?" he asks, his voice low enough that I have to lean in closer, brushing against the warmth radiating from his body. I can't help but revel in the attention. It feels intoxicating and new.
"I usually stick to wine…" I trail off as I glance toward the expansive selection behind the bar where glimmering bottles line the walls.
"Then let's do whiskey," he declares with a grin that promises adventure.
With the swipe of his hand, he orders two double shots of amber liquid from the bartender, locking his eyes on mine as if daring me to take a leap into this uncharted territory. My heart races at the challenge wrapped up in his simple request. I can feel every pulse of anticipation thrumming at my fingertips.
He hands me one glass. Its weighs heavy in my palm and he lifts his to meet mine. “To trouble and a night we won't forget,” he toasts.
“To trouble,” I echo, matching his intensity as we clink our glasses together. The whiskey burns down my throat, smooth yet fierce.
"So, firefly," Fox leans in closer, his breath brushing against my ear. “Are you here as a reader or an author?”
I chuckle nervously, trying to maintain composure while my insides flutter at the implication of that question. “Reader. I came with a friend of mine, but she kind of left me behind chasing down an author she wanted to meet.”
“I’m glad your friend abandoned you,” Fox continues with a smirk that threatens to unravel all my carefully laid defenses. “Or else I wouldn’t have had this opportunity.” His confidence is disarming, a simmering edge that makes it difficult to think clearly. I can feel the warmth of his body, he's magnetic and entirely too intoxicating.
"I guess so," I respond, biting back laughter as if this whole situation is some kind of cosmic accident that mysteriously deposited me right into his orbit. “What about you? Are you here with your girlfriend or wife?”
“I’m here with some friends who are working the event.”
“Oh, I don’t want to keep you from them,” I mutter. “Let me pay for your drink, and then you can get back to them.”
“They’ll be fine without me. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be to leave a beautiful woman all alone at the bar.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you are, firefly.” He leans even closer now, our faces mere inches apart. “Want to get out of here and go somewhere a little quieter?” he whispers conspiratorially.
The way he says it sends another shiver racing through me. Every part of me screams to jump at the chance. Just say yes and see what happens next. But before I can respond or before common sense can ruin this moment, a figure emerges breaking our bubble. The man strides up with a look that seems tinged with urgency. His brow is set in, irritation radiating off him, as if he's been searching forever for Fox.
“Hey! We need you over here,” he barks, interrupting us like an unwanted wakeup call from a dream too sweet to end.
Fox turns slowly back toward him, but not without one last lingering glance shot directly my way. “Wait here,” he murmurs as if marking his territory around me before turning away completely. “This won’t take long.”
Disappointment catches hold as anticipation coils tighter inside of me. Adrenaline continues swirling through my veins thanks to whiskey courage bolstering my confidence. All these feelings blending together uncomfortably sweet yet bitter.
As Fox follows after the other guy who drags him off towards a large group of women, Keira finally appears from the thickest part of the crowd.
“Where did you go, B?”
I blink at her sudden presence, eyes narrowing as I try to gauge her tone. “I was...uh, just getting a drink,” I stammer, betraying a weird mix of resentment for having been pulled away from that intoxicating moment with Fox. “You left me out there.”
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were right there, and when I turned around, you were gone. But you’re not going to guess who I just met. Eden Anderson…and Ares. He’s real, B, and he’s so fucking hot. He puts the model on the cover to shame.”
“Abandoned for a book boyfriend,” I laugh. “I don’t know whether to be angry or depressed by your admission.”
“B, he’s still over there. You should go meet him and Eden.”
“That’s okay,” I offer. “There are a ton of people over there, and the last thing I want to do is add to her crowd. I’m sure they’re here to enjoy themselves. Not get mobbed.”
Keira raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms defiantly. “Come on! One of your favorite authors is right there, and you don’t want to meet her?”
But I shake my head firmly. “I’m more comfortable here. Besides, I’ll meet her tomorrow.”
Keira starts to argue, but she stops, staring off at something on the bar. “Brea, why are there two whiskey glasses next to me?” she asks. “Did you… were you with someone?”
My pulse quickens reflexively under scrutiny as if caught sneaking extra cookies when grandma isn’t watching. “I spilled a drink on a guy when you abandoned me, so I bought him another one.”
“Is that so? Is he hot?”
I can feel my face reddens at her question.
“Oh my god, you’re blushing. He is hot. Which guy is it? Show me,” she squeals.
“A guy came to get him. He’ll be back.”
“For someone who didn’t want to come to the party, it sure seems like you’re enjoying yourself. My girl is growing up so fast,” she laughs, pretending to wipe a tear from her face. “I’m so proud of you.”
I roll my eyes, feigning annoyance, but a smile slips through despite myself. Keira's enthusiasm is infectious. It’s just that I can’t shake the lingering thoughts of Fox from my mind. “Really, Kiera? Can we not turn this into some dramatic coming-of-age moment?”
“Fine! No drama,” she says dramatically before leaning in closer and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “But seriously…what’s his name? You know you’re dying to tell me.”
I hesitate for too long. It's just enough time for doubt to creep in. She'll pry if given half the chance.
“I told you. It was nothing.” The words slip out more defensively than intended.
Keira folds her arms tighter across herself now. "Look," she continues earnestly but gently after sensing the tension simmering up inside me. "You really should open yourself up a bit more. You’ve been locked up for so long that seeing you step out of your comfort zone is honestly really nice. You should go find him. Make a rash decision. Go live it up, B.”
“Don’t you think searching him out seems a little desperate?”
“Not any more than standing here at this bar hoping he comes back,” she shrugs. “Go find him, B.”
I take a deep breath, the warmth from my whiskey fueling me. “Fine,” I finally agree, rolling my eyes again for good measure to mask how flustered she’s made me. It feels ridiculous chasing after some guy who probably didn’t even remember I existed from our short interaction.
I shift from the bar as Keira calls out from behind me like a pageant mom. “Push up your tits and don’t forget to smile!”
I don’t make it far before the lights in the bar flick on and off a few times. The crowd groans before a loud voice cuts over the noise.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” A male voice booms. “We need everyone with the event welcome party to please leave the bar as we open for normal business. If you are still drinking, you can stay, but anyone without a drink needs to leave the area immediately to make room for other guests.”
The announcement ricochets around the space, inciting a flurry of movement as people start shuffling toward the exits. My heart sinks just a little as I glance around, desperately scanning for any sign of Fox. I curse under my breath. “Perfect timing,” I mutter. He’s nowhere to be seen. Fuck.
“B!” Keira’s voice calls out as she finds me again. “Did you find him?”
“No,” I sigh.
“He has to be around here somewhere. Keep looking.”
I pivot to go back towards the direction he went when a security guard notices we aren’t leaving and approaches us. “Time to go, ladies.”
“She’s looking for someone,” Keira argues.
“You can look outside of the bar. Go,” he gruffly orders.
I force a smile through gritted teeth. "It's fine," I say, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. "Let's just go. Maybe he's waiting for us in the lobby." The lie leaves a bitter taste on my tongue as it spills out. Deep down, I know that if he really wanted to find me, he would have. Fox, assuming that was his real name, had clearly ghosted me.
I latch onto Keira’s arm as she pulls me through the throng of people, the loud chatter of excited voices and laughter blending into a dull roar. My heart hammers against my ribcage, each beat echoing my disappointment. I feel more exposed with every step, like a wilted flower cast aside after blooming too soon.
“Let’s just go back to your aunt’s.”
“Don’t you want to keep looking for your mystery man?”
“There’s no point. He’s long gone. I should have known better,” I grumble, trying to stifle the self-deprecating thoughts rolling through my mind.
Keira shoots me a disappointed look. “Stop it! You have no idea what he was thinking. He could be just as interested as you are.”
I snort at that but stay quiet while we exit the hotel and head towards Keira’s car in the parking garage. While we walk, I catch a glimpse of people milling in and out of the venue.
“It’s alright,” Keira reassures me as we step into the garage elevator. The cool evening breeze bites at my cheeks. “We’ll go back tomorrow for the signing event. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be there.”
“Sure.” I nod, knowing it would be a long shot, but part of me clings to that sliver of hope even as I fight against it.