Page 59 of F*ckboys

"Trust me, Grave," I say, a fire burning in my chest as determination surges through my veins. "He won't see it coming."

Together, we begin to plot, our voices hushed and our words carefully chosen. The air around us crackles with the tension of secrets and betrayal, and I can't help but feel a thrill at the thought of bringing Link to his knees. He may be my brother, but he's chosen to make an enemy of me—and I have no intention of going down without a fight.

Chapter 31

Fallon

The glass in my hand feels cold and heavy, the amber liquid swirling inside it like a tempest. It's been weeks since I stormed out of the restaurant where I saw them together, but the images of him and Carissa still plague me. Every time I blink, it's like a cruel reminder of what I witnessed. To make matters worse, my brain never stops at what I actually saw—them sitting intimately in a booth, Carissa with her hand possessively on Aksel's thigh.

That on it's own would be enough to make my gut revolt. But my mind embellishes different versions of the story. They're nearly always in the booth, but they're kissing passionately with very visible tongue action, she's sucking his dick, he's going down on her, he's shoving all the plates off the table and takingher right there in front of everyone. Oh, there's even one where I return to my condo and they're in my bed, sitting up boltright in shock when I enter the room and catch them. He's in his suit, he's naked, she's in sexy lingerie, they're role playing in costume.

Ugh. Let's just say the two of them have a very active sex life rent-free in my head.

"Damn you, Aksel King," I curse under my breath, downing the rest of the whiskey as if it'll help me forget.

It doesn't. If anything, it only stokes the fire that's been raging inside me since I saw them together. It's not just anger—it's something deeper, a primal hunger that courses through my veins, consuming me. And it terrifies me. Because I realize the rawness and depth of my emotion comes from the subconscious belief that Aksel King is mine.Mine.

"Fuck it," I mutter, grabbing my phone with unsteady fingers. A part of me knows this is a terrible idea, but logic has long since taken a backseat to the storm of emotions inside me.

Me: Be at your place in 20.

I don't have to wait long for his response.

Aksel: See you soon.

No questions, just acceptance. Maybe he's just happy to take what he can get. Possibly he thinks I just want to talk, give him an earful. In that case, he's in for a pleasant surprise, because words aren't on my agenda at all.

When I arrive at Aksel's apartment, the door is unlocked, waiting for me. As I step inside, I find him standing there, as if he's been waiting for me all night. He looks like a dark angel, his carefully styled dark hair reflecting the dim light, his warm smile a stark contrast to the ice in his eyes.

"Fallon," he says, his voice low and velvety.

"Aksel," my own voice is sultry.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, and I can't tell whether he's feigning innocence or he really doesn't know. Given how I've been acting lately, that's fair.

"Cut the bullshit, Aksel," I snap, my chest tightening with every step I take towards him. "You know why I'm here. We have some unfinished business to attend to," I add, my heart racing.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. In that moment, I see his resolve wavering, but I need this. I need to feel something other than this gut-wrenching pain. And seeing I can't stop imagining him while trying to fuck anonymous strangers, I may as well take it straight from the man himself.

Then, he grabs my hand and pulls me further into his condo. The door shuts behind us with a soft click.

Inside, it's cool and quiet, the only sound our heavy breathing. Aksel drops my hand, and we're face to face. I can smell his cologne, mixed with the scent of his skin. I want to taste him. I want to make him suffer.

"Fallon," he whispers, his eyes darkening. "What do you want?"

"You," I say, my words barely audible.

“Are you sure?” He steps forward, too slow, and captures my lips in an agonizingly gentle kiss. My blood boils.

“Positive,” I growl as I push him back against the door, closing the remaining distance between us, my fingers tangled in his hair as I deepen the kiss, desperation seeping into every inch of my being. His body responds to mine, hardening against me. His lips are warm and soft against mine, but there's an edge to it—a dark promise that sends shivers down my spine.

"Remember," he whispers as we part, his breath hot against my ear, "you asked for this."

I nod, unable to form words, my heart pounding in my chest as our eyes lock. In that moment, all the anger, all the betrayal,everything else fades away, leaving only the raw, unspoken connection between us.

"Are we really doing this?" I ask, my voice wavering despite my best efforts to keep it steady. Now it's my time to falter. I want to do this but I'm also terrified.

"Tell me to stop, Fallon," he challenges, his hands skimming my waist as if daring me to push him away. But I can't. And he knows it.

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