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FOX

The room is alive with the sound of eager chatter and excitement, a steady hum that serves as the perfect backdrop for Eden's signing event. Her table is surrounded by adoring fans, each holding onto their newly acquired copies of her bestselling book. She sits there, radiant and vibrant, her rainbow hair shimmering under the warm lights, signing books while occasionally shooting playful looks in my direction. I stand casually against the booth, arms crossed, trying like hell to keep a neutral face.

Eden’s readers pester her with questions about the book based on our weekend together. They throw glances my way, giggling when they do.

“Is it true that you met Eden at the last MMM event?” a shy reader, who appears out of fucking nowhere and damn near startles me, asks in a quiet voice.

“It is,” I answer with a smile.

“Did you really ride a motorcycle into the sunset with her?” The question is laced with just enough disbelief to make me chuckle softly.

Eden’s head snaps toward me. “Oh, come on, Ares! You have to give them something better than that!”

The reader leans in, and I can see the glimmer of hope dancing in her eyes. “Yeah! We want the juicy details! Was it as romantic as she wrote?”

I raise an eyebrow at Eden while she cups her chin in her hands, feigning innocence. The crowd around us is buzzing with anticipation, leaning closer as if they might catch a secret.

“Let’s just say,” I begin slowly, drawing out the suspense like the tight pull of a throttle before revving up the bike. “Eden could write an entire series alone based on our weekend together.”

“Who says I’m not writing book two right now?” Eden winks. It takes everything I have not to let the control of my face slip in front of unassuming readers. If they only knew Eden and I had only fucked twice that weekend. The first, I barely remember, thanks to the open bar at the after-party. The second time, well, getting caught by Hallie and Az isn’t exactly what I would classify as mind blowing. She and I had fun together, but fun has a time limit when it comes to me. How she managed to turn those two encounters into this book, I’ll never know.

“Is that an exclusive announcement?” someone in her line gasps.

“I guess we’ll have to see if this weekend sparks any inspiration. Right, Ares?”

My throat feels tight as the crowd's attention shifts to me. I clear my throat, but it does little to dispel the sense of impending chaos, fed by Eden's infectious energy. “Well, let’s just say,” I drawl, adopting a laid-back tone, “this weekend is bound to be unforgettable. You never know what might inspire a writer.”

Eden shifts from her seat, taking a few steps closer to me, and leans up as far as she can on her tiptoes.

“Kiss me,” she whispers.

“That wasn’t part of the deal, Eden,” I quietly retort.

“You’re being paid to sell the story. Now, kiss me and sell it.”

I lean closer to her despite every rational bone in my body screaming against it. The scent of her perfume swirls around me, a mixture of sweet florals. She tilts up on those tiny feet more confidently than any woman ever should be.

“Come on,” she urges softly as though coaxing hesitant prey from its hiding spot. “Make them believe.”

“Fine,” I mutter under my breath before leaning down slightly until our lips barely touch. A fleeting whisper of warmth was all it inspired. Eden tugs at my shirt, egging me on to make it more believable. Kissing her feels like a betrayal not only to myself but to Brea.

Brea. Those silky lips of hers. That curly red hair. I imagine it interlaced in my fingers as I kiss her. Imagine Eden is her.

I steel myself, pressing my lips more firmly against Eden’s, but even as I do, the taste of regret floods my senses. She responds eagerly, her hands gripping my shirt tighter, and I feel the crowd’s thrill crackling around us like a live wire. My brain is screaming at me that this isn’t right.

I pull back slightly, letting just enough space rest between us so I can catch my breath and gauge the reaction of those watching. The readers are all eyes and gaping mouths, their shock mingling with delight. Eden doesn’t release her grip. Instead, she beams up at me, genuinely elated.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” she whispers, a teasing lilt to her voice.

I lean down, low enough so that her readers can’t see my lips moving. “Don’t fucking do that again. This isn’t what I signed up for, Eden.”

“Come on, Foxy. That kiss probably just sold me out of books. Though, it wasn’t your best effort.”

She smiles as she shifts back to her spot at the table. The assistant her publisher sent over to help her, handing her book after book to sign. I’ll give it to her, Eden’s little stunt did exactly what she wanted, But at what cost to me? As Eden settles back into her rhythm of signing books, the growing crowd buzzes with excitement, their murmurs a dull roar underscoring my internal turmoil. But before I can wallow too deeply in my thoughts, or worse, get swept up by this whirlwind, Azrael’s solid presence slips over from Hallie's table and pulls me aside.

“That was quite a display,” he remarks. “Should I start planning for the wedding?”

“Don’t even joke about that. That’s the last thing I need right now.”

“Oh, come on. It’s time someone made an honest man out of you.”

“You can keep your romantic nonsense at your own table with your fiancé.”

“It's actually kind of sweet,” he smiles, glancing back at Hallie as she takes a photo with one of her fans.

"I'm sure it is, but no thanks. Tell me why you’re really over here. It’s not just to bust my balls. Hallie sent you to ask about the girl, didn't she?"

“Might have,” he shrugs. “Noticed you came back alone.”

“Look, it’s nothing,” I say, brushing off the question like a stubborn fly buzzing around my head. “I helped her out, she got over her panic attack and?—”

“And?” Azrael presses with that knowing look of his. The man can smell a secret from across a crowded room.

“We parted ways after,” I reply too quickly. “No big deal.”

He narrows his eyes at me for just long enough to make the hairs on my neck prickle uncomfortably before shrugging again. A subtle shift in posture gives away that he’s not fully buying what I'm selling but respecting that boundary nonetheless…for now.

I find myself drifting back into thoughts about Brea, those curly strands framing playful green eyes filled with fire, passion replaced by fear when anxiety gripped her so tightly moments before. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than lending support.

“What are you thinking about?” Az asks, suddenly jolting me back into reality.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does," he argues softly but firmly while fixated intensely on me. Az has his bullshit meter fine-tuned to me because he always seems to know shit about me before I do. It feels invasive despite being heartwarming. “Hallie remembers seeing the same girl with you at the bar last night. Seems a little too coincidental to me.”

“Hallie needs to mind her own business.”

“Be careful how you talk about my fiancé, Fox,” he frowns. “She’s just looking out for Eden.”

“The last person on Earth that needs looking out for is Eden. I’m pretty sure a nuclear holocaust could happen right now, and Eden will be partying it up with Keith Richards, a truck full of Twinkies, and cockroaches, while the rest of us turn to ash.”

“Not what I meant, jackass. She meant you not being able to control yourself in public and hurting her book tour.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly sign up for this circus,” I mutter, glancing back at Eden, who’s lost in a haze of fans and flashing cameras. “I’m just here to play the part.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Fox,” Azrael warns, leaning in closer so the crowd's whispers don’t hear us. “You have a weakness for women, and sometimes you forget that it bites you in the ass.”

“Spare me the lecture, Az,” I shoot back, crossing my arms defensively. “You’re the one who forced me into this, remember? You reap what you sow, Prez.”

“And the girl?”

“None of your concern.”

“Make sure it stays that way.”

I watch him stride back toward Hallie's table. Az has always been protective, too much for someone who’s supposed to have his own hands full with wedding plans and running a motorcycle club, but I know it comes from a place of love. He’s the papa bear I didn’t want nor need but I am stuck with so long as I wear the Bastard Boilers colors and work for his construction company.

I turn my attention back to Eden and her adoring fans, forcing a fake smile while secretly counting down the minutes until this signing is over and I can escape. I promised Brea a date and I need to find a way to slip away without Az or Eden catching on.