Page 71 of Fox
“When you’re cold, you put on my hoodies. You’re soaked, so I figured you were cold. If you would rather wear your clothes, go for it.” As he speaks, he sounds tired and anxious, and I’m instantly filled with dread. Is he going to shut down on me again?
I don’t verbally answer him, only nodding before walking down the familiar hallway to his room. I proceed to strip out of my clothes, including my wet bra and panties, before grabbing a towel and drying off.
I run my fingers over all his shirts, landing on a blue hoodie. I slip it on, as well as a pair of boxers, before running the towel through my hair one last time to ensure I’m not dripping water everywhere. My long, thick hair loves to hold water, and the lastthing I need is to make a puddle somewhere and then slip on it. It’s happened more than I care to admit.
I can smell the heavenly aroma of apple cider as I walk down the hallway to the kitchen. Fox is pouring the hot cider into two mugs when I enter, and the domesticity of it makes me grin. I take one of the steaming mugs and let it warm my hands while inhaling the warm apple and cinnamon scent.
“I also have pumpkin muffins on the table.” I raise a brow when I notice them in a Tupperware container instead of store packaging. “They’re from Stevie,” he says casually as if he noticed my confusion.
“When did you see Stevie?” I ask while sipping the hot drink, enjoying how it warms my entire body.
Fox rubs the back of his neck, his nervous tell. “I’ve been going by in the mornings on my way to Hel’s.”
My mug pauses at my lips, and I stare at him. “Why?” I ask nervously, not wanting to get my hopes up.
He shifts uncomfortably. “I was coming in to see if I could get her to tell me how you and Winston were doing.”
My eyes soften at his confession. This man will lick the come out of me and spit it into my mouth, but telling me he’s been going by the donut shop to find out how I am is too personal. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants while leaning against the kitchen counter. I marvel at his thick, strong, tattooed body and that trail of hair under his belly button that I still haven’t had the pleasure of running my fingers over.
“Are you mad?” His voice pulls me out of my completely inappropriate trance. “If you’re worried, Stevie is a fucking vault. She wouldn’t say anything besides you and Winston were alive. I think she gave me the muffins this morning out of pity.” He laughs dryly, and I can’t help but smile gently.
After a moment of awkward silence, I take another sip of my cider before clearing my throat and motioning for him to followme to the living room. “I wanted to show you an idea I had for new merchandise,” I say as I reach into my backpack and pull out the tablet he bought me. “And if you hate it, it’s cool. Just remember, I’m new to digital art, and it’s been a long time since I’ve drawn using any medium.” I open my drawing app and nervously open my saved drawings. It took me some time to figure out exactly how to work with digital illustration, but I finally caught on after a couple of days. But even so, I’m rusty as hell, and showing an artist of Fox’s caliber my sketches makes me very nervous. I watch out of the corner of my eye at Fox, reaching for his glasses and slipping them on. Fuck, my heart beats faster, and my core clenches. This man is just too damn sexy with those on.
The image pops up, and Fox instantly snatches the tablet.
“Holy shit, Torch!” His lips pull into a wide smile while he studies the image. The drawing is of Hel in half-color, half black and white. The colors I chose for the human side of her face are deep and rich, which contrasted well, at least I thought, against the black and gray skeletal side. The lines are shaky, not as bad as they would be if I were to do it by hand, but it’s clear I’m still very new at digital art.
Fox looks from the tablet to me, and the look on his face is indescribable. But it squeezes at my heart. “This is amazing,” he smiles. “I’m so proud of you! I would be proud as fuck to wear this design.”
Oh. The look is pride for me. I place a hand over my chest and squeeze my eyes shut as the familiar stinging starts.
“What’s wrong?” I feel his palm on my knee, and fuck; he’s so warm. I shake my head, unsure of what to say. Or what I could say without sobbing.
“I just…” Nope, here they come. Taking a shaky breath, my hands find his, and I feel the tears start rolling. I see the panic on his face and realize he thinks he’s causing the tears. Well, hekind of is, but not in a bad way. Forcing a smile, I give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I think that’s the first time in a long time someone has said they’re proud of me.”
Fox’s face falls as his expression goes from concern to disbelief. “I find that impossible to believe. What about your dad? He was always bragging about you.” Now, it was my turn for my face to fall and to stare in disbelief.
“My dad hasn’t said he was proud of me since I was a kid.” Fox scoots closer to me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. The gesture makes my already aching heartache that much more.
“Well, he said it to us all the time.” His voice feels like a warm hug I didn’t realize I needed. Before I understand what I’m doing, I twist my body until my face nuzzles his chest. It’s now that I remember his lack of shirt. I feel my face heating up, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I run my hand up his stomach to his broad chest. My fingernails run back and forth through his chest hair. I smile as I hear his heartbeat quickening.
“Fox?” I murmur. My voice is unsure. Just hours ago, his hand was around my throat while I was gripping a bathroom sink for life as he railed me. But somehow, this seems more intimate.
“Yeah?” I notice the nervousness in his voice as well.Is he afraid of us fighting again? Of me telling him my feelings? Is he going to run?I release an uneasy breath. I know we need to talk, but I’m terrified. I’m frightened he’ll reject me.Again.
Burying myself deeper into his bare chest, I find comfort there even though right now, he’s the one I’m nervous about. Can I do this? Can I tell him?
“I have feelings for you, Fox.” I’m unsure if the words actually come out because Fox isn’t speaking. After what feels like an eternity, Fox shifts to sit me up straight and looks me in the eye, and the oncoming rejection fills every part of me with dread. Ican’t believe this. I was stupid enough to have sex with him and think he would want something more with me.Again.
“Hey, hey, calm down. What is it?” Fox places his hand on my face, and I feel my tremors worsening.
“Nothing, I think I need to go.” I smack his hand away and stand up, trying to think how I would get away from him. It's dark, there’s a thunderstorm outside, and driving back to Stevie’s right now doesn’t sound safe.
“W-What?” Fox’s face morphs into panic as he stands up and goes to stop me, but in his haste, he slams his shin into the corner of his coffee table.
“Ah! Fuck!” He cries out before looking back at me. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know!” I groan through my embarrassment. “Insane, apparently! I mean, I keep doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result…”
