Page 52 of Property of Fox

“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.”

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