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Lexie, Not Alex
Lexie, Not Alex
Lexie, Not Alex
Ebook42 pages40 minutes

Lexie, Not Alex

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Lexie's life is changing for the better, with fresh chances and choices, friends new and old, and opportunities to grow.

takes place after FOXED UP
11,000 words - heat level zero

LanguageEnglish
Release dateFeb 15, 2019
ISBN9781386940920
Lexie, Not Alex

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    Lexie, Not Alex - Hollis Shiloh

    Lexie, Not Alex

    by Hollis Shiloh

    YOU'RE MY GUEST.  YOU belong here, said Wally.  He sounded very serious and grown up as he pinned the visitor badge to my shirt.

    We were at the police station.  I'd have sworn I'd never go there willingly, but Jon and Wally had said I should shadow them for a bit to see if I might like the work.  They'd promised me ice cream afterwards, which kind of shows you how mature they thought I was.

    The ice cream wasn't the only reason I'd agreed, though.

    It was kind of hard to say no to Jon.  He was hot.  My knees grew weak when he looked at me in that butch, protective way of his.  Obviously he was never going to see me that way—he had Wallace, who really was a better catch, being smart and classy and everything—but it was still kind of hard to ignore his awesomeness, you know? 

    Jon, despite being a cop, seemed like the whole package: strong, protective, gentle, fierce but warm.  He'd put his jacket around me once.  I'd wanted to keep it forever and sniff it when I got scared.

    I hadn't, of course.  I know better than to mack on another guy's boyfriend.  I was just a little jealous, that's all.  I was an exotic dancer and prostitute who could barely read and was currently out of work.  Wallace kept telling me I should consider being a police consultant, because of my fox shifter sense of smell. 

    I'd brushed him off, but he kept finding reasons I should consider it, even though I wasn't educated or classy like him.  And, well, when Jon agreed and they ganged up on me about it, it was hard to say no.

    So here I was.  At the police place—precinct, office, whatever they call it—with a visitor badge pinned to my chest and a pep talk from Wally about how I was his guest and nobody could harass me and he and Jon would look after me.  All that good stuff. 

    I looked down at the badge.  I couldn't read it.

    Jon moved around the desk to join us, stifling a yawn.  He had that tired, haggard look of a man who hadn't gotten enough sleep.  I wondered jealously if Wally had kept him up all night with sex.  I would have.  They did smell a lot like each other, if you get my drift.

    I was pretty sure they were mates, and it made me so jealous my spit tasted like vinegar.  Why didn't I get a hot, nice boyfriend-mate?  I wanted one.

    In my more daydreamy moments I imagined a guy who looked a lot like Jon (except with a moustache or something else to make him look slightly different), who would be kind of growly and sweet, and take me away from work and everything, so I never had to do anything but stay with him and enjoy life.  I could cook for him.  I'm an okay cook if I don't have to make anything fancy.  And I wouldn't have sex with anybody else, just him.  I wouldn't dance anymore, I wouldn't get laid for money, I'd wear a frilly little apron and a button down shirt and be classy as shit.

    As long as you never have to read anything, taunted an inner voice that sounded a lot

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