Page 51 of Property of Fox

“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.”

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