Worth Fighting For

Prologue

Misty took one last look at herself in the mirror, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear before flipping up the car’s visor. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she opened the car door and stepped out.

Nothing about the small house seemed intimidating, but the closer Misty got to the front door, the tighter her chest felt. She only made it four feet before doubt got the best of her, and she turned around, striding back to the car. She gripped the door handle, preparing to flee as if the hounds of hell were on her tail, but she paused, closing her eyes to try and calm her mind.

After the past weekend, this was the last place she wanted to be.

No, that wasn’t true. She’d always liked coming to Cody’s house. The confession she was about to make terrified her, though. But like it or not, it needed to happen. She needed to know once and for all if there was a possibility, however small, that Cody might return her feelings someday, or if all this time she’d been chasing a pipe dream.

If once she told Cody everything, he couldn’t return her feelings–or looked at her with the same horror she’d seen in her nightmare last night–well, she’d just have to accept reality. At least then she could spend her energy getting over him instead of trying to seduce the man.

Well…maybe she wouldn’t tell him everything. If he didn’t remember last weekend, she wasn’t going to remind him. That memory would go with her to the grave.

What had she been thinking? Even if she had managed to seduce him, there was no guarantee anything would come of it. She’d come close to losing one of her longest friendships because of some stupid plan. But she’d been frustrated and desperate. Desperate because nothing she’d tried budged her from the friend category she’d fallen under since the first day of middle school. So when Cody had invited her to come over for pizza and a movie, bringing a bottle of tequila with hopes that he would take advantage of her–or that she could take advantage of him–had seemed like a brilliant idea.

Not one of her finer moments. Even if it had almost worked. Would have worked. Except he’d imbibed a bit too much alcohol and passed out when they were half naked and rolling around on the bed.

Of course, he’d forgotten everything the next morning. Although, that might have been a blessing.

She blamed her fox for the whole fiasco. If it hadn’t been for the sneaky fox inside, she never would have resorted to tricks. That was her story and she was sticking to it. Clearly, it was all the fox’s fault.

Wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans, Misty squared her shoulders. Without taking any more time to second-guess her decision, she strode to the front door of Cody’s house. Best to get this over with. Either she’d spend the rest of the day in Cody’s arms, or she’d spend it in a carton of ice cream. But the sooner she did this, the sooner she could get on with whichever option awaited. Stalling would just make her more nervous and agitated.

She raised her fist to knock on his door, but froze with her hand inches from the wood. A strange scent lingered on his porch, leading straight inside.

She leaned forward and took a deep breath. The faint, but unmistakable, scent of a vixen fox wafted from behind the closed door. The knowledge hit like a blow to the heart, causing her to stumble backward.

Needing to be certain, Misty pressed her nose against the pane and took another breath, picking up traces of both Cody and a woman inside. She glanced at her left wrist for the time. Damn. No watch. How was she supposed to remember something so mundane when she’d prepared to do something so important?

The scent of the strange fox didn’t necessarily mean Cody was sleeping with whoever was inside...but it couldn’t be later than nine in the morning. What else would a woman be doing in Cody’s house at that time of day?

Don’t jump to conclusions, she chanted to herself as her breath hitched. Even if he were sleeping with someone, it wasn’t as if he owed Misty anything. After all, they weren’t a couple yet. She knew there’d been other women in his past, just as there had been other men in hers. But she’d come here ready to lay everything on the line. She’d been ready to confess her love for Cody. Whether he knew her intentions or not, finding him in the arms of another woman hurt worse than she could have imagined.

There she went jumping to conclusions again. Misty backed away from the door and down the porch steps. A strange fox could be in his apartment at nine in the morning for a lot of different reasons. It could be a cousin she had never met, or a long lost sister.

Or he could have found his mate.

The last thought halted Misty in her tracks. Her breath shuttered out. This guesswork solved nothing. All it did was make her feel worse. She needed to find out who that woman was and why she was with Cody.

Determined to learn the truth, Misty snuck around the side of the house to peer in the window. From her vantage point, she saw the living room and the hallway leading to the kitchen. Nothing moved.

As she was about to turn away, ready to seek a different view, the bedroom door off the hallway opened. A woman emerged dressed in Cody’s shirt–the one he’d gotten on his trip to California last year–and a pair of his boxers.

Misty wasn’t sure how long she stopped and stared, her mouth hanging open. The woman wasn’t simply beautiful. With her long white-blond hair and petite figure, she was stunning. There was something…exotic about the woman’s looks, yet at the same time, she looked like the girl next door. Never before had Misty seen a fox with such pale coloring.

Misty didn’t have self-esteem issues. She knew she was attractive, and she stayed fit. But she didn’t hold a candle to this woman. And that knowledge felt like a dagger piercing her chest. Not because the woman was prettier, but because the woman was prettier and wearing Cody’s clothes.

As the woman turned toward the kitchen, Misty quickly rounded the house, hiding in the bushes for cover to stare through the sliding glass doors.

Cody stood at the stove wearing a pair of jeans, unbuttoned at the top. Even from a distance, she saw the line of hair running down his stomach, disappearing behind the waist of his jeans. Her core clenched in desire at the sight. She couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized at the trail, as the smell of cheesy eggs and toast wafted toward her.

The scene looked like something out of her dreams. Except in her dream world, she was the woman walking out of his room wearing his shirt.

Gathering her courage, Misty looked up at Cody’s face. Attraction shone from his eyes.

Despair settled heavily upon her shoulders. The look told her everything she needed to know.

Unable to watch any more of their intimate interaction, Misty picked up the tattered pieces of her heart and crept back to her car. Later, she’d worry about what all this meant. If she dwelled on it now, she’d never be able to stop the tears.