“Don’t date Iggy, date me instead.”
He swallowed, clenching his hands together when they began to tremble. “Harlow…have you…lost your mind?”
“No. I did think about killing Iggy, but I'm still as sane as I ever was. Foxx…date me, not Iggy.”
Yes…he wanted to say yes. The word was just begging to leave his lips…but…
You are teetering with emotions for a man who we aren’t even sure is capable of liking you, or anyone else for that matter, let alone loving someone.
He closed his eyes, wincing as Alastair’s words echoed in his head, as with them came doubt and fear.
Licking his dry lips, he said softly, “No…”
Yes… Yes… He wanted to say yes…but he couldn’t. Alastair was right…he couldn’t do this.
Harlow let out a soft but slightly bitter sounding laugh. “Why? Besides the obvious reasons, that is.”
“I just… We just…can’t, okay?”
Harlow rubbed at the back of his neck. “Fine…but you can’t date Iggy, Foxx… You can’t. I’ll kill him.”
“Harlow, you can’t kill someone just because I?—”
“I can, and I will,” Harlow snapped. “Look me in the eye, right now, and see the fucking truth, Foxx. He goes near you and I’ll kill him. And that goes for—” Harlow suddenly cut himself off on a low curse, rubbing his face roughly, his voice was deadly calm when he spoke next. “For right now…stay away from him, and anyone else, for that matter, if you want them to keep breathing.”
Foxx’s eyes widened. “Harlow…”
“Fuck!” Harlow hissed, before pushing past him and making a beeline towards the stairs.
He spun, shouting after him. “Harlow!” But the man didn’t turn back around or say more, he just stomped up the steps, and a few minutes later, he heard a door slam.
Foxx didn’t follow. He shakily walked to the closest couch and plopped down.
Sitting there, his heart sped up, a tremble finding its way through his body…but not from fear. Foxx bit his bottom lip, and pressed down on his hard-on with his hand, his face feeling as inflamed as the rest of his body.
He shouldn’t find that hot. He really shouldn’t. But he had…and did…
Would the real psycho here, please stand up, he thought sarcastically. He could only imagine the judgment if Alastair could see him now.
What was he…going to do about this? What the fuck even was this?! Foxx had so badly wanted things to stay the same… He’d wanted to cling to what they had, even if it was just partners on the job and sex… But, now what?
He bit his lip as tears tried to form in his eyes. “Fuck…”
By the Goddess, he hated crying. It just seemed like ever since those fucking priests…he had so much trouble holding back the bloody waterworks. Bastards…
Foxx groaned and flopped over on the couch. “What am I going to do…?”
Foxx glared at the wall. This was all Alastair’s fault! The fucker HAD to keep pushing him! And now, not only was Foxx feeling confused as all fucking hell, he wasn’t getting any cuddles!
Huffing, he rolled and glared at Harlow’s broad back, along with the space between them. He wanted cuddles… No, Foxx deserved cuddles!
Nibbling his bottom lip, he glared for a moment more, before a slightly sneaky idea formed in his head. Closing his eyes, he rolled again and…faked a whimper. Waiting a few seconds, he faked another.
He heard a deeper exhale from the human, and then the bed moved. Arms snaking around him, he smiled as he was pulled back against a firm chest.
Foxx felt like a winner for all of two seconds…up until the man sleepily murmured, “Shh…shh… It’s okay, Foxx…you’re safe.” Then he just felt bad for faking it.
This is what he’d been talking about. Alastair tried to tell him that Harlow wasn’t different, that he wasn’t much better than the rest…but he was.
