Page 2 of Filthy Sweet

Everything moves in slow motion after that. I feel the box crumpling in my arms and the soft thud of objects landing at my feet and tumbling across the sidewalk. Fox’s lips part, surprised, and when I look down, my stomach sinks.

There’s a pile of lingerie and nighties covering my sneakers, and three dildos and a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs on top of it all.

“Oh my god,” I gasp. I fall to my knees and start scrambling, panic pulsing through me. “I’m so sorry!”

Fox chuckles. “What are you sorry about?”

I try to shove everything back in the box, but the lingerie just falls out the other end. “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m just—”

“Hey,” Fox interrupts, and when I look up, I see he’s kneeling beside me. “It’s okay.” His hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing in a way that feels so, so fucking good, except I’m too humiliated to appreciate it. “This is your business. I won’t mention anything to your brother.”

Oh dear god, why is this happening?

“It’s not my stuff. My friend Robin, it’s hers. We moved together.”

Fox stand and lifts one of the purple dildos, which he hands to me gently. “Right. Got it.”

My cheeks are burning. He clearly doesn’t believe me, but I know that objecting too forcefully will just make me seem more pathetic.

I haven’t even come out of the closet to Reggie yet or found my first boyfriend. I’ve barely had sex, but I somehow convinced my teenage crush that I’m into dildos and panties and bondage.

Perfect. I’m capable of finishing a doctorate ahead of schedule, but somehow, I can’t figure out how to have a basic human interaction without making it weird.

Fox takes the collapsed box from me, which he easily pops back into place. “Here you go,” he says, dropping one of the dildos in as he hands it back. “I, uh, probably should get going.”

“Sure!” I scramble to my feet, shoving the rest of Robin’s stuff back in the box. “Right on!”

Right on? What the hell, Owen?

Fox grabs my shoulder again, giving me a firm rub. “I know Reggie wants to get us all together. I’ll see you soon?”

“Definitely,” I answer, biting my lip and dying inside. “Anytime.”

Fox smiles. “Cool.”

Without another word, he releases my shoulder and walks away. I stand there with wobbly knees, staring after him, possibly in shock.

Nothing like a little humiliation in front of my brother’s best friend to get things started in a new city.

* * *

FOX

How about that? Awkward little Owen Lavigne has another side to him.

Fuck, he had a cute look on his face when that box fell open. I keep thinking about it as I steer my bike across town, cruising to Heavy Weather, my new employer.

Owen still wears thick-rimmed glasses, but he has a thin blonde beard, and he’s nearly as tall as me now. The soft curve of his cheeks, the arch of his eyebrows, it’s all strikingly familiar and weirdly reassuring, like a million other things might have changed, but Owen is still the guy I remember. Standing there in a tight pair of jeans, Converse sneakers, and a rumpled T-shirt, he shifted his weight back and forth as we talked, an awkward energy that I remember from when we were growing up.

But now, there’s something different about that energy, too. When his box exploded and all his secrets spilled out, I realized I was smiling. I felt bad about it, but there was just something so fucking cute about the way he looked shy and embarrassed and how his cheeks got pink when he bit his puffy lip.

There was something… hot about it. But as I park at the top of the hill and pop my helmet off, I force that thought away.

This is Reggie’s little brother we’re talking about, the adorkable, quiet kid who was always sitting in the corner with a book. It doesn’t matter how much he’s grown up—there’s no way in hell I’m going to think he’s sexy. That’s just not right.

Hell, Reggie doesn’t even know that Owen’s queer yet.

Or maybe he’s just straight and into dildos and lingerie, I try not to assume.

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