Page 8 of Flame
He towers over me by several inches. He stands tall and confident with dark hair on the verge of needing cut, and brows and cheekbones that definechiseled. His features are symmetrical, save for a slight bend to his nose. His skin is dusted with stubble, and his hands are calloused. It melts into a package of pure masculinity that turns me into a puddle.
Foxx licks his bottom lip but says nothing.
“Or not,” I say, pulling my gaze from his.
“What are you doing here?”
I bite back a smile. I hear it—the slightest edge of softness to his words.That tells me all I need to know.
Despite being removed from my security detail six months ago, nothing between us has changed.
He’s still affected by me, too.
“Jason and I heard there was a bachelor auction down here today, so we thought we’d swing by and find me a date,” I say, testing the waters.
He hums.
“I almost had two, but the firefighter looked a little toonicefor my taste,” I say, watching his reaction.
Foxx’s eyes darken. He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Wanna sit?” I ask, taking my paddle off the chair beside me. “Jason is on a call, but he’ll be in when he’s done.”
Foxx sits, brushing against my shoulder on the way down. It sends a blast of energy shooting through me.
“It’s been a while,” I say. “How have you been?”
He shrugs. “You?”
Oh, Foxx. I grin. “Ah, the man of a thousand words. I forgot how chatty you are.”
He hangs his head, chuckling softly.
“Jason said you’ve been assigned to Renn lately,” I say. “Lucky you. Of all my brothers, he might be the most entertaining.”
He turns his head and looks at me. He wants to say something but doesn’t.
We watch each other carefully, searching the other’s face for direction.
I didn’t expect Foxx to be game for idle chitchat—that’s not his modus operandi, but I didn’t expect him to say only six words either. We didn’t end things,not that there was anything to end, on a bad note. It just … ended.
One night, I thought he was going to kiss me. The following morning, he requested a transfer from my team.
I haven’t talked to him since.
Apparently, that’s the way he wants it.
My chest tightens.
“I’m going to wait in the car,” I say, starting to stand. “If Jason comes back in—”
“Wait.” His palm rests against my thigh. “Just … hang on.”
“Miss? Would you please bring me your paddle?” A woman waves at me from a table next to the water fountain. “The baseball team is having an auction next week, and I promised them our paddles.”
I glance down at Foxx. His blue eyes are nearly green. This shade usually happens late at night, when instead of doing whatever it is he’s supposed to be doing, he stays a little too long with me.
He pulls his hand away from my leg, letting his fingertips drag off to the side.
