Page 44 of Fox and Nitro
“Fox, come look at this.” Jazz waves me toward her before holding her hand out.
I take it in mine, it’s so damn tiny and soft, not something that should be held by my massive paw, but I don’t give two shits. She pulls me closer to where she’s standing leaning against Nitro, bringing me into her other side, until she’s wedged between us. I don’t miss the low groan Nitro lets out as we sandwich her, filthy thoughts running through my mind.
“I was showing Zane some of Rodney’s paintings,” she carries on, oblivious to the fact that I’m frozen to the spot at the sound of Nitro’s government name falling from her lips. He’s in. He’s all in.
Shaking myself off I force myself to lean in, peering at her phone screen while discreetly trying to draw her scent into my lungs. “Wait, is that a dick?”
Nitro snorts, his low rumbling chuckle builds as Jazz scrolls photo after photo of paintings of dicks. All sizes and colors flash by on the screen until all three of us are in fits of laughter. This,this is what I want for the rest of our lives. And I’m going to fucking get it too.
Jazz
My cheeks feel like they haven’t once stopped burning up. In fact, my whole body feels hot and alive in a way it hasn’t in a very long time. Usually I’d start to run mental diagnostics, running through every symptom that I have. Is my big toe feeling achy? How’s my knee? Wrists feel OK, run my tongue around my mouth, nope, no ulcers that I can feel. Blink a few times to check eye moisture. Wriggle fingers to make sure they’re all working well. No headache, not patchy vision, breathing feels fine. I tick everything off like I’m running health and safety on a school trip and yet none of the usual issues I deal with seem to be what’s behind the heat rushing through me. Which means that there is only one conclusion, and that’s being wedged between two, large, incredibly hot men who for some reason have set their sights on me.Me.The sick girl. The one that probably won’t be able to meet or fulfill any of their needs and yet, for one crazy moment, I want them. I want them more than my fears can hold me back.
Wedged on a barstool between the two of them makes me feel protected, cared for and I don’t miss the fact that since Fox came to join us no one else has dared enter the kitchen where we’re hanging out. Not even my sister who I would have thought would have checked in on me.
A notification pops up on my phone screen
Vi: get it girl and then tell me about it tomorrow. Don’t forget to wrap up!
I’ve never believed it every time Lily talked about sister telepathy. Until now. And I want to crawl under a rock or magically go into a lupus coma because I know the exact moment the two men beside me see the message. It’s the exact same time I do. It pops up above my favourite painting of Rodney’s. The massive penis he tried to disguise as a rocket ship.
“Oh, ah, sorry about that guys, just ignore her. I-”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart, there is no pressure. We can be friends, we can date, we can walk away and never see each other again. You call the shots,” Fox says, his breath ghosting over my ear, that’s how close he is.
I turn to stare at him and I see in his eyes the same thing I see when I look into Zane’s. I’m not sure what to call it, but it’s almost submission in a way. It’s a look that makes me think that these two, large powerful men are actually not the ones holding the power here. It’s me. And it’s shocking and exhilarating. I know that no matter what I choose these men will respect my wishes.
With them on either side of me I decide to let my body call the shots. I’m tired of having to monitor my every moment, cataloguing and checking and planning out every moment of my day just to manage a body that’s fighting with itself. I’m tired of fighting, I want someone else to take the weight. To make me forget my body and myself.
I look first at Zane, then at Fox, before taking a shaky breath, “What if I don’t want either of those things? What if I want something else?”
Fox moves to stand behind me, Zane moving at the same time. One of them, I’m not sure which grips my hips and spins me to face them both. Fox’s chocolate eyes search my face, Zane’s dark, almost black eyes stare directly into mine.
“What do you need, sweetheart?”
“I-I want to feel something other than discomfort,” I whisper, dropping my gaze. Now that I’ve voiced it, I feel silly. I mean, I’m not in any pain or discomfort at the moment, I don’t think. Or maybe the ache low in my belly is another type of pain, one that verges on pleasure.
“I don’t think you want that at all,” Zane says, reading me in a way no one else ever has. “You want to feel in control of a body that is out of control.”
I swallow, because he’s right. But I know that it’s not something that I’ll ever have. I haven’t had it since my second year of college when I was diagnosed.
“Do you trust me? Us?” Fox asks, gently cupping my cheek, bringing my gaze to his.
I look at him, really look at him, then at Zane and realize that in this moment I do trust them. I trust them to treat me well, to look after me at this moment.
“Yes.”
“Good. Let us help you.” He holds his hand out for me to take and I throw caution to the wind and place my hand in his.
He pulls me to stand, Zane at my back, a warming presence. I have no idea what it is about these men, but all the voices in my head that would normally tell me that men like this wouldn’t want me, that I can’t do what other women can do, that I’m ugly and broken, they’re not there. Fox and Nitro somehow silence them every time I’m in their company.
They lead me out of the farmhouse, down the steps, Fox gently holding my hand while Zane guides me down safely. I mean, I’m fine going up and down stairs and things, but the fact that they know my body isn’t always cooperative is a nice surprise. We pick our way down the path, to the trailer that I know they live in and have done since Fox was shot.
Yet again they help guide me up the small temporary steps and when Fox opens the door I get my first look at their home. It’s not what I was expecting. I figured with two men it would be more bachelor pad-ish, with a giant couch and an even larger TV and yet it’s somewhat simple but homely. There is a large couch, but it has a fluffy throw over the back of it. There is a TV but it’s not obnoxiously large. What really catches my eye however, is the large bookcase on one wall packed so full of books that some are stacked on top of others.
I turn to them, brows raised and I can’t miss the blush that rises on Zane’s cheeks and the look of pride on Fox’s face.
“My baby is a bookworm, what can I say,” Fox shrugs as he presses a sweet kiss to Zane’s lips, making my core ache at the simple act.
