Page 1 of Filthy Sweet

Chapter One

Owen

My eyes landon Fox Wilder, and the world freezes.

I’m not even sure it’s him at first. It’s been fourteen years since I last saw my brother’s best friend in person, and he’s supposedly out of town this weekend.

But no, that’s Fox. I recognize the saunter in his walk and the sharp angles of his gorgeous features. Unlike the dirty jeans and torn shirts he used to wear, he’s dressed in charcoal slacks and a fitted T-shirt, appropriate for his career as a music exec. His black hair is all pushed to one side, messy but styled. Dark sunglasses hide his eyes, and he’s got a motorcycle helmet under his arm.

For just a moment, I see the old Fox, the high school senior who rebelled against the world. But as he gets closer, I spot the stubble on his jaw and the way his body has filled out, becoming stronger and meatier. There are dark tattoos on his bicep with bold lines, and a silver chain hangs from his thick neck.

Holy shit. He’s dripping with confidence. That’s so hot.

I’m parked on the street outside my brother’s condo building in Seattle, my new home, and unloading my earthly possessions from my Subaru. I hug a cardboard box to my chest as Fox strolls up. Heat tingles up my spine and warms my cheeks, like I’m thirteen and crushing on him again.

“Fox,” I manage to say, then shift the box in my arm to wave. “Hi!”

He seems to notice me for the first time. “Owen. Wow,” he says, his voice deep and slow, like a motor running. He pushes a hand through his wavy hair. “That’s right. You’re moving in this weekend.”

I nod back to my brother’s place, a brick building surrounded by overgrown shrubs. “Just here for a week, until my apartment is ready.” I swallow, nervous and shy, but trying to play it cool. “Reggie’s not home, by the way.”

A hint of a smile appears on Fox’s face. I really wish I could see his eyes behind his sunglasses, maybe get a better idea what he’s thinking.

He nods to the boxes in the back of the car. “You need help with those? I’m just here to leave some concert tickets for your brother, but I’ve got a couple of minutes to spare.”

“No,” I say quickly. “That’s really okay. I got it. I know you’re busy.”

Fox hesitates, like he might offer again, but then shrugs. “All right.”

I squeeze the box in my arms. “Congratulations, by the way. The new Phoenix Sunset album is a huge hit. You must be really proud.”

“Thanks,” he answers, smoothly accepting and tossing aside the compliment and not making a big deal about the fact he’s kind of famous now. “Just got back early from a work trip. You finished school, right?”

“My PhD,” I answer with a quick nod. “In Ecology and Evolutionary Biology.”

“Damn. You’re young, too. Right?”

“Twenty-six is a little young for a Ph.D.,” I admit.

“Nice,” Fox says with a nod.

He’s being polite. There’s no way Fox actually cares about my schooling. He permanently impressed on my sexual imagination when I hit puberty, but I wouldn’t have been anything more than Reggie’s dorky little brother back then.

Hell, I’m still Reggie’s dorky little brother now.

Still, over the years, I never lost track of Fox. In high school, he was troubled, and looked down on by pretty much everyone in our small town, for being openly queer and coming from a family with a bad reputation and a million other things on top of that. When he was seventeen, he dropped out of school and disappeared, and honestly, no one expected to hear much from him after that.

Except that Fox did connect back with one person: my brother. I heard from Reggie about how his best friend managed to transform himself into a music executive. I’m still not sure how he pulled it all off, although I imagine his confidence has something to do with it. Even when things were at their lowest back home, he somehow never let it show that he was bothered.

Fox pulls an envelope from his back pocket, which he offers to me. “You mind giving these to Reggie?”

“Sure!” I say, way too brightly, then shift the box in my arms, trying to figure out a way to take the envelope from him.

Unfortunately, while Fox has always managed this aloof, brooding vibe, my dial has been permanently stuck at awkward.

His faint smile grows, just barely. “I’ll set it on the car here,” he says and leans forward to place the envelope on the roof of my Subaru.

I squeeze the box again, embarrassed, but this time my squeeze is tight enough that the box collapses and the bottom falls out.

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