Page 6 of Some Like It Fox

“Did you want anything else?” Atticus’s voice yanks me back to the present. “I think we have some stale pretzels somewhere.” He leans back against the counter, arms crossing over his chest.

The forgotten memories of a kind boy only add to his current brawny appeal. I drink in the broadness of his chest, the way his figure tapers down to his waist, and how his thighs fill his jeans.

Do I want anything else?

Why yes, I think I do.It’s been a long time since I’ve been with anyone. Way too long since I experienced this level of attraction. Atticus is beyond tempting.

I tap on the water bottle. “Do you have anything stronger to drink?”

ChapterTwo

Atticus

If someone had told me yesterday that I would be sitting on my couch, sharing a nightcap with Taylor Fox in front of a crackling fire, I would have laughed in their face.

And yet, here we are, chatting like we’re old friends.

“So why did you have work so close to the holidays?” She sips bourbon from the tulip glass nestled in her hand and tucks her legs underneath her, angling her body in my direction.

We’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, only a couple of feet apart.

I swirl my own glass in my hand. “I do botanical surveys and environmental inspections for utility and construction companies. It’s a lot of travel.”

“You get paid to travel?” She rubs her lips together, the plump bit of skin glossy from her drink.

I nod and try not to stare, try not to imagine what the bourbon tastes like on her lips.

“That sounds incredible.”

I rub the back of my neck. “The work is great, but constantly being on the road is not so great.”

Her head tilts to one side. “You don’t like it?”

I take a sip of my drink, considering how to answer the question without sounding ungrateful. “I’ve been working almost nonstop since graduation. I love being outside, and the work itself is fulfilling, but I don’t know. I guess I feel like even though I’m constantly on the move and seeing new places it’s like I’m missing out on something.”

Like this holiday trip. My family went to Bermuda, and I’m here alone. It’s no one’s fault except mine. They wanted me to join them, but I told them to go on without me.

She chuckles. “I’m the opposite. It’s like if I’m not out somewhere, actively moving and on the go, I’m missing out on everything. The FOMO is real.” She pulls her hair off to one side with her free hand. The strands are dark and shiny, flowing in waves down to the middle of her back.

I clear my throat and try to clear my mind of thoughts of Taylor’s hair spread across my pillowcase. “Where do you go?”

She takes another sip of her drink and then stares down at the glass in her lap. “I travel all over the country and go to music festivals and events and things like that. I don’t get paid to do it, but it makes me happy.”

Before I can make a comment, she keeps going, her eyes downcast, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her sweater. “It can be an uncomfortable conversation at parties or weddings.” She pitches her voice higher, “What do you do? Oh, I live like a vagabond, party a lot, and have no idea what it means to have a 401k or gainful employment in general.” She laughs, but the sound is brittle.

My hand clenches in my lap. A person shouldn’t be defined by what they do, but by how they treat people. Even when I was the new kid who was too tall and too quiet and too weird, Taylor was always kind. She would wave to me in the hall and chitchat when we were in line at the cafeteria, and she smacked Jonathan Leland in the back of the head when he teased me for being a beanpole.

The crush was massive.

I lift my glass to her. “It takes courage to do what makes you happy, despite other people’s expectations.”

Her mouth spreads in a slow smile. “Thank you.” Her eyes flicker over me before darting away.

Was she checking me out?

I shift in my seat, swallowing hard.Pull it together.“How did you get into it, all the traveling and festivals?”

“I went to Bonnaroo after high school with some friends and it changed my life.” Her smile falters. “I needed to get away from Whitby and it was the perfect escape.”

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