“I…want you to diagnose me. I need to know how much I can feel as soon as possible.”
There was silence before Wes inhaled deeply, and the next time he spoke, the man sounded more awake. “Let me see if I have an opening tomorrow. Please note…” The man cleared his throat. “It won’t be a one-day thing, Harlow. It’s going to take multiple sessions until we have everything we need.”
He figured it wouldn’t be instant. “Fine…just get me in, and we can go from there.”
As much as he didn’t want to do this…he had to. Harlow had to know, for Foxx’s sake. He didn’t want Foxx to walk away from him. He didn’t want to hurt him…which was a new feeling. Though, he sort of already realized that when his back had been fucked up and his threats of offing the fucker were just that…useless threats that he had no intention of ever carrying out.
And after all he had heard tonight, he knew he needed to know how much of himself he could really give Foxx, before he unintentionally ended up hurting him.
Foxx’s face twisted as he read the reply from Alastair a second time.
ALASTAIR
Hey, bestie. Told you it would work out! In recognition of me being right, and due to the untold stress this situation has caused me, I decided that the only rational decision that I could make was to go on holiday. Sadly, I’ll be out of touch briefly, so don’t come looking for me. And as the signal will likely be bad…don’t bother calling. No worries, I’ll call you when I’m ready. Love you!! Toodles!
“What bollocks?! Untold stress!?! To HIM?!” Foxx hissed as he tossed his phone on the kitchen island. “The bastard ran!”
Harlow, who was by the stove cooking him fluffy, cheesy scrambled eggs, chuckled. “I mean, if you were in his position, wouldn’t you?”
“That’s beside the point!” Foxx huffed.
Would he have? Yes. But that wasn’t the point at all. The point was, he now had to delay his pettiness! Which was fine…he could hold off. It was only a matter of time before Alastair returned.
Harlow dumped the fluffiest, cheesiest eggs onto a plate and brought it over, setting it down in front of him.
Eyeing the man, he smiled slyly, even as his heart fluttered happily. “So, you have feelings for me, old man?”
Harlow snorted. “Yeah, I feel something besides murderous and a need to fuck you.”
Foxx stuck his tongue out, before snagging his fork and taking a bite. He groaned. “Mmm, cheese.”
Harlow took the seat across from him, smirking. “I care, and I worry for you. And you know that cabin I have?”
Foxx took another bite before asking, “What about it?”
“Before you, no one besides me had ever stepped foot inside it.”
He blinked in shock. “Really? No one else?”
“Really, no one else.”
Foxx beamed and giggled, “Old man cares about his brat.”
“Mmhmm, I do.” Standing, Harlow leaned across the counter and gave him a peck on the lips. “Now, is there anything else you want to eat before I go?”
He frowned. “Go? Go where?”
“I have an appointment this morning. Well, this afternoon, I guess, since it’s already three.”
An…appointment? “You’ve…been having a lot of appointments lately.”
His stomach dropped. Now that he was thinking about it…Harlow had been going to a LOT of appointments in the last few months.
Licking his suddenly dry lips, he found himself blurting out, “Are you sick?!”
Harlow snorted. “No. I’m not sick. Promise, I’m as healthy as I can be at this age.”
“I think your joints would beg to differ.” Foxx stared with a brow raised.
