Property of Fox (Mayhem Makers: Bastard Boilers MC)

19. Brea

brEA

Ares. Fox is Ares from Eden's book, and I still can't believe it. I feel foolish for getting caught in his trap so easily. It also didn't help that he had enough charm to seduce an entire bar of single women. Despite his explanation, a part of me struggles to accept his lies. If only he had been honest with me from the start, maybe I could have avoided the conflicting emotions that have consumed me since yesterday. It’s as if the second he walked out of that door, my mind started replaying every work we said to each other over and over. I tried to read to get my mind off of him, but every single male character turns into him. Television is more of the same. Keira has been dying to binge watch a period drama with me for weeks, and we tried to start it last night, but I just couldn’t stand it.

Fox Sutton is ruining my life, and he’s not even here.

This shouldn't be happening. I barely know him, aside from the accident at the welcome party, my panic attack, that unforgettable kiss in his hotel room, and his skilled mouth devouring me in his truck. Shit. I can’t think about that.

Though, he knew what he was doing. His tongue should be insured.

Stop thinking about him and his magic tongue, Brea. It will do you no good.

The soft morning light filters through the thin curtains. I roll over in my bed, the soft cotton sheets slipping through my fingers as I try to find a comfortable position that will somehow banish thoughts of Fox. It’s useless. His name echoes in my mind like an incantation, one I can’t shake off even if it means losing precious sleep. My hand stretches over to the side of the bed he’d occupied yesterday. His scent still lingering on the pillow I clung to all night.

I think about him in his hotel across town. If he had stayed after all. It’s not as if I’d given him any indication to do so. He’s likely states away at this point, back to his regular life.

I have to get him out of my head.

As if the universe heard my frantic plea, Keira bursts into my room without knocking. The door swings wide, creaking on its hinges. I bolt upright under the covers as she flings something at me. A package that lands with a soft thud on the quilted blanket beside me.

“Jesus, Keira!” I screech in shock.

“Open it.”

I blink at the package, its glossy surface reflecting the morning light. "Keira...what’s this?" I ask hesitantly, eyeing my best friend, who stands grinning like she just saved me from drowning.

“Stop asking questions, and just open it, B.”

With a sigh, I tear into the packaging and unveil what’s nestled inside. A phone.

“You got me a phone?”

“It’s pre-paid, so there’s no way to track you with it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I smile.

“I do,” Keira mutters, hopping on the bed. The motion almost shaking the phone from my hand. “Use this and call Fox.”

I've lost count of how many times I've thought about calling him, his business card burning a hole in my pocket.

“That’s not a good idea, Keira.”

“Look, B. Did he mess up by not telling you about the whole fake dating thing with Eden? Yes. I will not give him an inch with that. But,” she continues, “he’s also the guy who made you feel things that no one else has. You deserve to know if what you felt was real or just a game.”

I can feel her eyes drilling into me, assailing the barriers I’ve carefully constructed since Fox walked away.

“He may not even still be here, Keira. Maybe it’s the best for both of us. He has his life. I am still trying to figure out mine.”

Keira scoffs, tossing a loose strand of hair behind her shoulder. "You're kidding yourself if you think it would be better for you to just pretend he didn’t happen. Because it most certainly did, and deny it all you want, but I know you really like him. I heard you calling out his name last night in your sleep. If that isn’t a sign to call him, I don’t know what else I can say to convince you.”

“I called for him?” I feel the rush of a blush flaring on my cheeks.

“Fox, please! Oh my god, Fox, yes,” she moans.

“I did that?” My embarrassment only growing further. “Please tell me that you’re kidding.”

“I am not. I thought about recording it, but…I didn’t.” I bury my face in my hands.

“Brea,” she says softly, her voice coaxing me out from behind my defenses. “If he made you feel all that, don’t disregard it just because you’re scared.”

I inhale deeply, trying to summon some semblance of rationality. Keira's law of friendship applies here. If she senses something is worth fighting for, I should do it.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally, hesitation curling around the edges of my resolve. “What if he doesn’t answer? He could have changed his mind.”

Keira shrugs. “Then you make a choice. Either stay back and let that eat you alive, or take a leap and see if he catches you.”

I nod slowly. Her words are laced with the authority of someone who knows what it means to fight for what you want in life. As I glance at the phone again, hope flickers...but fear grips me tighter in response.

“I...I’ll think about it,” I say, trailing off as I pick up the sleek device again, its power resting in my hands.

“Thinking is a start,” Keira replies, bouncing up from my bed like a spring. “You hungry? I was thinking about running into town and picking up breakfast.”

“Yeah, I could eat.” I rattle off my order, a simple request of scrambled eggs and bacon, and as quickly as Keira appeared, she disappears back out of my bedroom door.

I sit alone for a moment, the phone still warm in my hand. Every tick of the clock feels like a challenge, urging me to act. My heart races as I wrestle with the idea of reaching out.

What if he really felt it? What if none of this was just a game?

Throwing the covers aside, I rise and make my way to the bathroom. The steamy water cascades over me, washing away traces of the night. Dressing in faded jeans and a snug t-shirt, I catch a whiff of breakfast wafting from the hallway. I open the door, only to find Keira on the other side of it.

“Breakfast is here. Did you decide yet?”

“I think… no… I know I should call him.”

“Then call him. If he doesn’t answer, you’ll have your answer.”

I pad back into my room, the phone's sleek surface glinting under the overhead light like a challenge. My fingers wrap around it tightly, trembling at the thought of what could happen.

“Okay, here goes nothing,” I mutter to myself. I glance at the clock mid-morning, what if he’s still waking up? Or maybe out with his friends? It could be too late. I push that thought away and tap the screen, the numbers glowing brightly against my palm.

With a deep inhale, I start dialing his number, my pulse quickening with each sound of the buttons beneath my fingertips. I mentally kick myself for not having done this sooner. With each ring that follows, my heart sinks deeper into a pit of dread.

Then it happens. The call connects. Just when doubt threatens to unravel me entirely, his voice breaks through the crackling connection.

“Hey, you’ve reached Fox…”

Shit. Voicemail. I start to leave him a message when the line clicks.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Fox speaks again. “Brea? Is that you?”

My heart races with anticipation as I nod, even though he can’t see me. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d...” He trails off, his words laced with uncertainty.

I take a deep breath and push past my doubts. “I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

There's another silence before he replies. “I’ve been thinking about you non-stop since last night.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips, and I feel myself relax for the first time in days. “Me too. Are you still in Dallas?”

“I am,” he admits.

“Good,” I say. “I mean—I was worried you’d be busy with Eden today or something.”

“Eden?” He chuckles, but there’s a sharp edge to it. “She left this morning.”

“Left?” My heart skips a beat, anticipation mingling with disbelief. “Just like that?”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone softening. “I told you, Brea. It’s just business between her and me. Has been for a really long time.”

An awkward silence falls between us. “Can I see you?” he asks, breaking the pregnant pause. “I understand if you don’t want to see me, but fuck, firefly, I want to see you. Even if it’s to tell me to get fucked.”

An image of him flashes in my mind. That playful grin, the way his tattoos twist around his biceps, the intensity of those brown eyes when they fix on me. “Where?”

“I’m parked down the street from your place,” he says casually, but I can hear the tension beneath his words.

My heart races even faster as I glance out my window. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a drive. I ended up here.”

I bite my lip. Did I really want to throw caution to the wind just like that?

“Okay,” I say slowly, feeling the word slip past my lips with a mix of fear and exhilaration. “I’ll come outside.”

“Sweet,” he replies, the grin evident in his voice. “I’ll be waiting.”

I hang up the phone, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins. The world outside my window blurs, and time skips as I mentally prepare for whatever might unfold next. One minute I’m pacing the floor like a caged animal, the next I’m bolting toward the door, thankful that I put on something presentable.

Keira’s in the kitchen as I run by.

“Where the hell are you going, B?”

“Fox,” I answer, tugging on my shoes by the backdoor. “He’s outside.”

“Like a stalker?” she fires back with a smile on her face. I frantically try to find my wallet. I’d left it on the end table when Fox and I snuck into the house, but now, it’s nowhere to be found. “You should have let me call the cops.”

“It’s not like that,” I shrug as I pull my hair into a messy bun, adrenaline spiking through me. “Can you help me find my wallet?

Keira raises an eyebrow, but her smile widens with mischievous excitement. “I told you he was still here. Felt it in my bones. He likes you, B.”

“Shhh!” I hiss, glancing nervously toward the door as if Fox might somehow hear us plotting. “Just find my wallet!”

“Alright, alright,” she laughs, ransacking my end table like it’s a treasure hunt.

“Got it! Now, before I give you this, promise me you will make him beg for forgiveness. Don’t let him off too easy. Make him fucking work for it.”

I snatch it from her hands, my heart pounding as I glance at the clock again. Times ticking, and each second feels like an eternity. “Thanks!” I shout over my shoulder as I make my way to the door.

“Be careful! Use a condom! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she calls after me, but I’m already stepping outside, the sun warm against my skin.

My gaze scans for him until finally landing on his black truck parked beneath the large oak trees lining our street. The dark metal glints in the sunlight and leaning casually against it is Fox. His tall frame clad in a rolled-up Harley Davidson hoodie, tattoos dancing along his forearms where his sleeve exposes his skin as he fiddles with his phone.

As I approach, the world around me fades, my pulse thrumming in my ears. He looks up, and those brown eyes lock onto mine.

“Hey, firefly,” he greets with his signature grin, making my insides feel like they’re caught in a thrilling whirlwind.

“Hey,” I reply, trying to sound casual despite the fluttering excitement in my chest. “So, you really came all the way here just because you couldn’t sleep?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs, leaning off the truck to take a step closer. “Is it wrong that I kind of just… wanted to be near you?” His voice drops low, almost conspiratorial.

I swallow hard at his admission. “Well, here I am,” I say bravely, but inside, I’m battling between nerves and need.

Fox takes a step forward, lowering his voice even further as he glances briefly around before his eyes return to mine. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed this,” he says, gesturing between us as if our connection is tangible.

“It’s been a day. How could you miss me that much?”

"You have no idea. Not knowing if I'd ever lay eyes on you again. I messed up and will do whatever it takes to make you trust me again, Brea. Whatever it fucking takes, baby.”

The sincerity in his voice grips me like a vice, and I find myself unable to look away. I can see the tension etched in his brow, the way his jaw tightens, as if he’s battling some inner demons. It’s raw, and somehow, it feels familiar, an echo of my own struggles.

“You lied to me about everything.”

“Lying to you may have been the worst mistake of my life, but I will never do that again. Whatever you want to know, it’s yours.”

His confession stops me in my tracks, and suddenly, all the doubt that had swirled around in my mind begins to dissolve. “Anything?”

“If you asked me to rob a bank or stage a coup, I’d do it just to see you smile again.”

My heart flutters, but I try to maintain my outward composure. The nerve he has, tossing out reckless promises like confetti, and yet there’s something intoxicating in his conviction. “You might want to rethink that.”

“Yeah? What if I’m serious?” he challenges, stepping closer until our chests nearly touch.

I roll my eyes at him. “Seriously, Fox? You think I’d let you charm me back into your good graces just like that?”

A playful glint sparks in his eyes, and that mischievous grin curls up further. “No, but I figured I’d give it a shot. Tell me what I need to do to earn that chance. Because I’m not going anywhere until you give me an answer.”

My breath hitches slightly as he leans in even further. “Why should I trust you? Isn’t that what got me burned last time?”

“Because,” he says, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that makes my skin prick with awareness, “It’s just you and I. No more interference.”

“You say that now…”

“Let me prove it,” he urges. “Let’s start fresh. No expectations, no past mistakes hanging over our heads. Just us.”

“How?”

“For starters, lunch, and then after…we’ll just have to see how it goes.”

“Awfully presumptuous of you to think I’ll just agree to a meal.”

Fox closes the remaining distance between us. Looking down at me with a devilish grin plastered on his face. “You would have never come outside if you weren’t willing to give me a chance.”

“Maybe I just wanted to see if you were really out here like my own personal stalker.”

“Stalker?” he smiles again. “Stalkers have nothing on me, firefly. Watching you will never be enough.”