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How he’d crept in himself, saving me without even knowing it.

The clock on my phone read seven-thirty.

It was more than twenty-four hours. It didn’t feel like it. It felt like hell. Like everything fucking hurt.

I ached all over. The emotion of yesterday had ripped into me, roaring into my veins, completely unwelcome. There was nothing I could do but ride out these feelings, but deal with everything as it happened.

And right now, sitting here in my living room completely alone, all I wanted was Adrian.

All I wanted was the handsome, tattooed, soft-hearted cop who’d made his worst yet best impression on me when he arrested me.

He was all those things and more.

The fact we hadn’t shared a word since I’d left his house silently hadn’t escaped me. Obviously. I couldn’t do anything but focus on him. Not on my brother or my bank card or my job offer.

Just him.

Adrian. Zac. How right my life felt with them in it.

I twirled my glass, watching how the wine swirled. It ebbed and flowed, moving against the curve of the glass. The stem felt too flimsy and weak in my touch, so I released my grasp and sipped from it.

He was at work, but where was Zac? If I texted, would he reply? Would he care enough to? Would he be able to?

I stared at my phone.

Picked it up.

Pulled up our messages.

Looked at the goddamn thing.

Yesterday had been goodbye, hadn’t it? I was no fool. I’d said goodbye enough in my life to know that the moment Damien became a part of my mine, Adrian ceased to be.

And I fucking hated that.

I wanted them both in my life. I wanted my brother and the man who made my soul scream with happiness. Because that’s what happened around Adrian. There was comfort in his touch and safety in the sound of his voice. We were so different, yet there was nowhere I’d rather be than in his arms.

Or next to him.

Hell, I’d take the same fucking room right now.

I sighed, leaning my head back. Why was it so hard to send a message? I’d barely touched my wine and I’d spent the day with Damien. Lola was obsessed with her uncle, and I just wanted her to be happy.

Talking of Lola…

“Mommy?” She appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eye and clutching Dolly under her arm.

“What’s up, pumpkin?” I held out my arm for her.

She joined me on the sofa, stumbling slightly as she curled into me. “I miss Zac and Adrian.”

I swallowed hard. “Me, too.”

“No, Mommy. I really miss them.”

“I understand,” I said, really telling the truth.

It was as if a hole had broken up in our world.

“Can I call Zac tomorrow?”

“Sure you can,” I answered. “Will you go to sleep right now?”

“I’ll try.” She pulled back and looked at me. “Mommy, do you really miss them?”

I reached out and stroked the backs of my fingers across her silky-soft cheek. “I do, Lo. An awful lot.”

“Okay.” As if that answer was the one she had been waiting for, she nodded and stood. “Goodnight, Mommy. I’ll turn my light off.”

I smiled. “Goodnight, LoLo. I’ll come check in a little bit.”

Lola responded with a smile that broke my heart. “Okay. ‘Night, Mommy.”

I watched her as she trotted away from me, down the hall, and around and up the stairs.

It was the first night I’d been truly alone for as long as I could remember.

I picked up my phone, hit Adrian’s name, and sent him a message I knew there was every chance I’d regret in the morning.

Me: I need you.

***

Three glasses of wine later, I was watching a rerun of America’s Got Talent. It’d rolled on from whatever I’d been staring at earlier.

Two hours had passed since my text.

I knew he was at work. I had no right to be annoyed. I had no claim over the man, and I had no right to send the message I had, but there I was.

I was a Fox, through and through. The little plastic rectangle in the hidden zip-pouch of my purse reminded me of that. As a Fox, I got what I wanted.

Except this time, it wasn’t a want because I could.

It was a want because I wanted it.

I wanted Adrian. Head to toe. Heart to nerves. All of me wanted the man who’d been radio silence since I’d walked out of his house.

I deserved it.

I was rags to riches. He was pure, honest. I was lies and deceit and dollars. He was love and kindness and goodness.

My entire life had been a lie, while his was a painful truth.

I didn’t deserve him.

Headlights flashed in my window.

I sipped wine.

I missed him.

The lights stopped.

I finished my wine.

A door slammed.

My glass clinked against the table.

Knocks to my door.

I jerked my head around.

Silence.

I paused.

More knocks.

I got up and wandered lazily toward the door. Another knock sounded between me getting up and me reaching the door, and my heart beat a hundred miles an hour as I recognized the figure on the other side of the glass.

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