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We say goodbye and twenty minutes later, I turn off the engine and step out of the car, keys jingling in one hand as I make my way up to my front door.
I enter and toss my keys on the side table.
“Hey, ya,” comes a voice from across the living room.
I turn to find a blond woman stretched out on my extra-large L-shaped couch, watching TV. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to leave before I left this morning?”
The woman rises from the sofa, her breast on full display, ready to pop out of her tight, low-cut top. I seize my phone and roll my eyes as she swings her hips excessively on her way over to me.
“You one of those grumpy mornin’ people, huh?”
“Not when people do what I told ’em earlier. What’s your number?” I ask.
Her face shows a content grin as she sums up the digits, but when she reaches her manicured hand out to touch my chest, I step away and show her my screen. “Where to, Tiffany?”
Her smile fades, and her nose scrunches as she understands I’m ordering her an Uber.
“Don’t be mad. I told you before we fucked, it stays with one night. Look through the window. A new day.”
Tiffany strides back to the couch, snatches her shoulder bag from the ground, and pulls out her iPhone.
“Don’t bother. I’m leaving and will order a ride myself,” she says, hurrying through the door and slamming it shut.
Not bothered by the blaring television, I shake my head while making my way upstairs. Why do women always get mad when I warn them in advance?
I scratch my beard as I lie on my king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling. It must be the dopamine stuff that releases itself in their bodies and causes them to forget my earlier warning.Brian Fox doesn’t do relationships.
But hey, that’s their problem. I try to sleep, something that doesn’t come naturally, but the doc’s words have my nerves on edge. After tossing and turning for a while, I slide off the mattress. Instead of napping, I walk back downstairs and drop onto the couch. With a click on the remote lying next to me, I open Netflix and continue watching an action series. The perfect temporary remedy to power down and claim back control of the internal emotional chaos the hospital visit causes every time.
I slamthe tumbler of scotch back across the bar at Shooter’s club, trying to drown out the doctor’s words from this morning. When I spot the empty seat next to my buddy Cole, I ask him, “Where’s Nick?”
Cole glances over his shoulder. His six-foot-five powerful physique is like a brick wall, and he has an intense presence that commands attention.
“He messaged me. He’s running late.”
I shake my head and growl. “Didn’t he say he had something important to show us and demanded we be here on time?”
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Hello, Brian,” a sultry voice purrs in my left ear while a hand roams from my knee to my crotch. “Why don’t we get out of here and have another wild night?”
I stop the hand and lean back on my barstool, staring into the woman’s blue eyes. “It’s a hard no from me,” I grit, “and if you’d listened last time, you wouldn’t be here now.”
Her mouth falls slack. “But I thought—”
“Yep, there’s your problem.”
Fury flares in her eyes and her hand flies up. Before it lands on my cheek, I grab her wrist and lean forward until our noses almost touch. “I warned you last time, Annabel. I don’t fuck a woman twice.”
I let go of her and turn my attention back to my drink.
“Asshole,” she hisses before storming out.
Cole’s voice rumbles behind me, “Another broken heart in the path of Brian Fox.” As I scan the room, he adds, “You’re becoming a real gigolo here, buddy.”
I glide off the stool while settling my eyes on the dance floor. “Judge me when you’re perfect, Walker. Women avoid you,” I fire back. “Maybe if you weren’t scowling so hard at everyone who walks by, you’d have better luck.” Cole, Nick, and I met when we were in college. We clicked straight away even though we have different personalities. Cole’s demeanor can tend to be broody but beneath his intimidating exterior lies his true character; sincere, straightforward, and honest, without any bullshit.
He grinds his teeth and grunts. “I actually like my single life as it is.”
