When Felix was finished, he handed August a plate with two perfect waffles, then grabbed his own and led August back to the front of the pub. He hopped up onto the wooden bar top while August settled onto a stool.
As Felix propped his feet on the stool beside him, a flash of smooth metal caught the light, drawing August’s attention. He studied the slender foot of a prosthetic leg, wondering at the story behind it.
He must not have been subtle in his staring, because Felix said, “Not as interesting a story as you might think. Took a hit as a kid and didn’t get it treated fast enough.”
Heat crept up the back of August’s neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t . . . ”
“No worries,” Felix said breezily, waving off August’s pathetic attempt at an apology. He cut a piece of waffle and speared it with his fork. “I’m not ashamed of it. Just proof that I’m too damned stubborn to let anything slow me down.”
When Felix took a bite, August did too.
And he melted.
How was it possible that Felix had whipped up something so unbearably delicious with such little effort? August had never learned to cook—never needed to. But maybe he’d ask their cook back home to show him how. Or maybe Felix would . . .
No, that was a painful line of thought. They weren’t friends—weren’t anything. This was a one-off. There was no future to be had here.
They ate in silence, the faint sounds of distant music and the ticking second-hand of a grandfather clock serving as a backdrop to August’s thoughts. Felix, who had carried the conversation all night, was now oddly quiet.
“Are you seeing Lady Farrows again?” August asked, mostly to break the silence. He regretted the question as soon as it tumbled out. It was none of his business. The jealousy was absurd, and whatever attraction he felt was only a temporary distraction. He shoveled a large bite into his mouth to prevent any further stupid questions.
Felix bit his bottom lip before he said, “I may have gotten a little carried away.”
“Not sure what you expected,” August mumbled around the bite. “You did ask the empath for ecstasy.”
Felix sighed and slid down to the stool beside August. “And I certainly got it.” He paused for another bite, swallowing it before continuing. “But, no, I sort of left Sarah alone in the square with no explanation. Not sure she’ll be happy to see me again.” His expression turned turbulent. “I swear I’m not usually so capricious. Sorry if I messed up your birthday.”
August shook his head. “What do you mean? This was the best birthday I’ve had in years.”
“How low was the bar set?”
August shrugged, not wanting to think about how different his birthdays had been since his father’s death. He was cosy in his waffle euphoria and preferred to stay that way.
As Felix reached to take his empty plate, their fingers grazed. Goosebumps lifted on August’s skin, and his cheeks flushed as he snapped his hands into his lap.
“So,” he said, trying to cover his own awkwardness, “why do you have keys to this place?”
“It’s my murder den,” Felix answered. “I keep the bodies in the cellar.” The corner of his mouth lifted, then he added, “My ma owns the pub. Well, technically, I do. Won it in a bet. I live upstairs.”
As Felix took the plates back to the kitchen, August’s attention shifted to the staircase at the back of the room.
He’d unintentionally gone home with someone he’d just met. That was possibly the most un-August-like thing he had ever done.
Felix returned and sat back on the stool, facing August. “Now, are you going to tell me what your deal is?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been telling half-truths all night. I want to know who you are.”
August blinked, his pulse kicking up. “I told you who I am.”
“You’ve told me nothing. In fact, it’s quite impressive how little you’ve given away, despite my prying. I’m very persistent.”
“What else is there to know?”
“You have fascinating eyes,” Felix said, as nonchalant as if he were commenting on the weather. August flushed, thinking it was a compliment until Felix added, “I’ve never seen silver rings. Are you a wielder?”
“No,” August blurted, too quickly, too defensively.
