Page 24 of Filthy Sweet

“Asshole,” he goes on. “He hooks up with you and makes you feel bad? Tell me where he lives and I’ll kick his ass.”

“He lives in Nevada now, so I never have to think about him again.” I drop my hand. “But thank you.”

Fox grunts, looking me dead in the eye. “That’s fucked. I’m sorry that happened to you, Owen.”

I frown. “It was only my second time having sex,” I admit, letting it pour out of me as easily as the alcohol poured in. “I think it kind of messed with my head.”

Fox sets his jaw. “That would mess with my head, too. One of the first times I had sex, the woman complained about the way my cock curves. Took me forever to get over it.”

I feel tingly again. “That’s so rude of her.”

Fox has a curved cock, and why is that suddenly the hottest thing in the world to me?

He grunts. “Yeah. It was.”

“It’s like you said—I just can’t hide, right? I can’t let that stuff stop me from doing what I want to do.”

Fox nods, holding my eye. “That’s right. Prove that asshole wrong. You’re a fucking catch, Owen. Go out there and get everything you want.”

“Yeah,” I agree, my heart pounding. The connection between us is charged, and I realize I’m starting to get emotional.

I’m beyond ready to start getting what I want. The problem is, the only thing I want right now is Fox.

Louder applause erupts from the theater, and when I glance down, I see the band taking their bows. “I guess that’s the show?”

“Sure,” Fox says. “You ready to go?”

I’d prefer to stay right there the rest of the night, just talking, but I force myself to nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Chapter Nine

Fox

“I’ve got good news,”I tell Mare. We’re at the recording studio, and the rest of the band is off getting lunch.

“What’s that?”

“I think it’s time we ice out the media for a while.”

Mare laughs. “Excuse me?”

I walk over to the bar area and turn my attention to the espresso machine. “We’ll keep them hungry, until the album’s ready. I thought you’d be happy. It means you can focus on writing songs.”

When I turn around, Mare surprises me with a hug. “Yes,” she says, laughing. “Thank you.”

I pat her back, feeling awkward about the affection. “No problem.”

“I’ll never understand where you get all these ideas. But I can’t argue with our sales.”

I turn and hit the machine, which spits out black coffee. “Just doing my job.”

“By the way, I spotted you with that cutie at the concert last weekend,” she says.

I arch an eyebrow. “You were there?”

Mare laughs. “You’re such a snob. The band is not that bad.” She gives me a teasing smile. “I’ve never seen you with a date before, Fox.”

I grunt.

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