Novels by BlixenIX

Bryson’s POVThe thing about playing Mario Kart with Avery was that she took it seriously. Way too seriously.She'd positioned herself on the very edge of the couch, controller gripped tight in both hands, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration. It was the same expression she'd worn as a kid when she was trying to beat me at anything….totally focused, completely determined to win.Some things never changed.I was trying to take it as seriously, but kept getting distracted. It was the way she leaned into the turns like it would actually help her car take the corners better. How she muttered under her breath when she hit a banana peel. The fact that she was wearing my shirt and it was way too big on her, slipping off one shoulder every time she moved.By the time we hit the final lap, I realized I wasn’t even sure where I was on the track. I was going to lose. Not on purpose, exactly. But I wasn't trying as I should have been. She crossed the finish line first and threw her h

Bryson's POV"Bryson Alexander!"The sound of my name being screamed across my bedroom was music to my ears. I hadn't heard those words strung together in so long. I used to avoid it like the plague when we were kids… and now I was actively looking forward to it.Avery was sitting up in my bed, clutching her head like she had the world's worst headache, which she probably did, considering the amount of alcohol Tara had pumped into her last night."You okay," I said, trying not to grin at her obvious misery.She squinted at me through what were clearly very sensitive eyes. "What time is it?""Almost noon.""Crap." She tried to stand up, then immediately sat back down, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples. "Oh God, my head is killing me."I handed her two ibuprofen and a bottle of water from my nightstand. "This should help.""Thanks," she muttered, reluctantly taking the pills and downing them with half the bottle.She was quiet for a moment, clearly trying to piece toge

Third Grade - Fall"You're doing it wrong," Avy said, crouching down next to where I was trying to tie my cleats."I am not.""You are too. Look." She demonstrated with her own sneakers, making perfect loops that actually stayed tied. "Over, under, around, and through."I tried to copy her movements, but my fingers felt clumsy and the laces kept getting tangled."Here, let me." She knelt in the grass and started re-tying my cleats properly. "There. Now they won't come undone when you're running.""Thanks, Avy.""You're welcome. Now show me how to throw the ball again."I picked up the junior-sized football my dad had gotten me for my birthday and demonstrated the grip. "Fingers on the laces, like this. And when you throw it, you want to flick your wrist."She tried to copy me, but the ball wobbled and fell awkwardly to the ground instead of spiraling smoothly."It's harder than it looks," she said, frowning."You'll get it. It just takes practice."We spent the rest of the afternoon i

Bryson’s POVOh crap. She was here.I spotted her the second she walked through the front door with her friend and my entire body went on high alert. She was wearing a black dress that hugged her curves in ways that made my mouth go dry, and her hair was down in soft waves that caught the light every time she moved.She looked incredible. And she was in my house, at my party, looking like that.This was going to be a problem."Babe, you okay?" Brooke's voice cut through my thoughts, and I forced myself to focus on her face instead of tracking Avery's movement through the crowd."Yeah, fine. Just making sure everyone's having a good time."Brooke followed my gaze and I saw the exact moment she spotted Avery. Her expression shifted, becoming sharper, more calculating."Interesting guest list tonight," she said, her voice carefully neutral."Carter invited half the school. You know how these things go."But I could feel Brooke watching me, studying my reaction, and I knew I had to be car

Avery’s POV"Come with me to a party," Tara said, barging into my room without knocking.I looked up from the chemistry textbook I'd been reading, raising an eyebrow at her dramatic entrance. "Hello to you too.""I'm serious. There's a party tonight, and I need moral support.""What kind of party?""Bryson's party. Specifically."I nearly dropped my book. "What? Why would I do that?""Because I'm asking you nicely." She plopped down on my bed, giving me her best puppy dog eyes. "Jake's going to be there, and I think I might finally work up the courage to ask him out. But I need backup.""Tara—""Besides," she continued, her eyes taking on a mischievous glint, "we both know Bryson will be all over you the second you walk through the door. And what better way to mess with Brooke's head than showing up right in front of her face? Does that sound good or what?"The idea should have been appalling. The last thing I wanted was to voluntarily put myself in a situation where I'd have to watch

Bryson’s POVThe tackle came out of nowhere, hitting me low and hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs. I hit the ground with a grunt, grass stains already forming on my practice jersey."What the hell, Gray?" Carter's voice came from somewhere above me. "Jenkins was wide open on the right. That was an easy pass."I rolled over and sat up, spitting dirt. "I saw him.""Then why didn't you throw to him?"Because I was too busy thinking about Gabriel Castellanos's hands on Avery. Because I couldn't stop picturing her in those bleachers, cheering for someone else, looking at someone else the way she used to look at me."Just missed the window," I lied, pushing myself to my feet.Carter gave me a look that said he wasn't buying it, but he jogged back to his position without another word. Coach Williams, on the other hand, wasn't so easily dismissed."Gray!" His voice boomed across the practice field. "Front and center!"I jogged over to where he was standing on the sidelines, his cl

I woke to voices drifting through the hallway. Sunlight streamed through the windows, and for a disorienting moment I forgot where I was. Then reality crashed back: the penthouse, the contract, the man who'd upended my life with a marriage document.I fumbled for my phone. 8:57 AM. Three missed calls from work and a text that made my stomach plummet.Lena, consider this your final notice. Don't bother coming in. We'll mail your final check. - RichardFired.I wasn't surprised. Of course. Not with everything that had happened. But still the text hit me harder than I'd expected.Even though I'd hated my job. I mean it had barely paid the bills, and my boss was an ass. Still, it was a part of my life. Another piece that was now gone.A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. "Mrs. Black?" The voice was crisp, professional, touched with a slight British accent. "I'm Mrs. Carrow. Mr. Black asked me to assist you this morning."I pulled on my robe, fingers fumbling with the belt, and o

My phone buzzed with another text from that same unknown number: Car downstairs. You have five minutes.That was it. No pleasantries, just another command delivered with the same cold efficiency that seemed to define everything about him.I looked around my apartment one last time, my fingers trailing along the chipped counter where I'd eaten countless meals alone. At the peeling paint I'd grown used to, the stack of unpaid bills that would no longer matter, the crossword puzzle still lying unfinished on my table.Twenty-six years of life, and it all fit into two suitcases and a cardboard box.I touched the locket at my throat. It was my mother's silver heart, now warm against my skin. Whatever came next, I'd carry this piece of her with me.The car waiting outside was sleek, black, expensive. The driver took my bags without a word, his movements precise and militant. I settled into leather seats that probably cost more than my entire salary, feeling like an imposter in someone else's

I'd barely slept.The package sat on my nightstand like a ticking bomb, wrapped in innocent brown paper that gave no hint of its contents or importance. Every time I'd closed my eyes, I saw Damien's face. Those cold, merciless eyes that had looked at me like I was already dead if I failed to comply.At 7:30 am, I stood in my tiny bathroom, staring at my reflection. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, and my hands still trembled slightly as I brushed my teeth. In twelve hours, my entire life had been upended by a man who spoke in commands and owned people like they belonged on chessboards.At 8:15, my phone buzzed. A text from my boss, Richard. Where are you? The Jameson files need to be processed by 10 AM!My stomach fell. I was usually at work by now, deep within the mundane world of insurance claims and deadlines. But now…I typed back: Family emergency. Will be in soon.It wasn't entirely a lie. My family, Alex and Mara, were in danger. That made this an emergency, even if Richard would

Damien Black stepped into my apartment and suddenly the cramped space felt even smaller. His dark eyes swept over the peeling walls and scattered bills with detached assessment before settling on me.I stumbled backward, my back hitting the kitchen counter. My pulse hammered so violently I was sure he could hear it. Up close, he was devastating in a way the magazines hadn't captured.Six-foot-five of controlled danger wrapped in a suit that probably cost more than I made in a year. Every line of his body radiated money and power and the kind of authority that had never been questioned.His gaze dropped to the contract scattered across my floor."You read it.""I—" The words barely made it past my constricted throat. "I — I — Don’t understand. ”“What don’t you understand?”“Why are you threatening me?”Those dark eyes held mine, studying me until I had to resist the urge to fidget under the weight of his attention. "Sign it.”"Sign it?" My voice cracked on the word. "You're threatening

My apartment door was unlocked.I stood in the hallway staring at the handle, keys in my hand, trying to remember if I'd locked it this morning. I must have. I always locked it.….except I'd overslept and had to run out, late for work. Maybe I just forgot then?I pushed the door open slowly, my pulse racing.I checked around the room. The peeling paint. Dripping faucet. Bills stacked on my counter that I could barely afford to pay. The crossword puzzle I'd abandoned last night beside a mug of coffee.Nothing was missing. Nothing looked…different.I shook my head and sighed. See? Paranoid.I took off my coat and shoved the last envelope onto the pile of bills without opening it. Probably another rejection letter from the design firms that had been ignoring my portfolio for months.After the fifteenth, “thank you for your interest, but…” I'd learned to expect disappointment.Still, each letter felt like another door slamming shut on the life I'd dreamed of building.Interior design h