I shook my head, trying not to let my disappointment show. “No. Everything’s still a dead end.”
His gaze lingered on me a little too long, like he could see through the calm I was trying to project. My stomach twisted under the weight of it. He always had this way of making me feel like I was laid bare in front of him, like even my secrets weren’t safe.
“I know you’ll figure it out,” he said. “For now, let’s go get groceries. We’re running low.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were at the grocery store down the street. Felix had grabbed a cart and was leisurely pushing it down the aisle, and would stop when I grabbed things to put them in the cart. Every time the item was on the top shelf and I couldn’t reach it, he would reach over without complaint and grab it for me. The strange domesticity of it all felt almost disarming, as though this dangerous man was perfectly at ease under the fluorescent lights and soft hum of the freezers.
“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” I said, watching the way his hand lingered on the shelf before he dropped a box of cereal into the cart. His mouth curved, just barely, like I’d asked a question he wasn’t sure I deserved the answer to. For a moment, the only sound was the squeak of the cart’s wheel and the low buzz of a nearby cooler. Then he looked at me, dark eyes unreadable.
Felix’s mouth tugged into the ghost of a smirk. “That’s a dangerous request. What if the truth makes you run screaming out of this store?”
I arched a brow at him. “I’ll risk it.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating in his chest as he leaned one arm casually against the cart handle. “Actually, I’m afraid it’s so embarrassing thatImight run screaming out of the store.”
“Well, now I definitely need to know,” I said, nudging him in the side with my elbow.
“I get carsick.”
I stopped mid-step, blinking at him. “You’re kidding.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes told me he wasn’t. “Dead serious. Boats, planes, no problem. But stick me in the backseat of a car and within five minutes I’m a goner.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of me. “Felix, the terrifying man everyone’s afraid of… and your weakness is road trips?”
His smirk sharpened as he leaned closer, voice dropping just enough for only me to hear. “Go ahead, laugh it up. But if you ever tell anyone—” his eyes glinted with mock warning “—you’ll be just as scared of me as they are.”
“Tch. I haven’t been afraid of you for months,” I said, reaching for a small jar of coriander. “You’re not that scary.”
Felix’s brow lifted, his expression unreadable as he stepped closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat of him at my side. He plucked the jar from my hand slowly, deliberately, and set it in the cart without looking away.
“Not that scary,” he echoed, his voice low, almost amused. Then he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed my ear. “Sweetheart, the day you stop being just a little afraid of me is the day you should really start worrying.”
I tilted my chin toward him, refusing to step back. “Then I guess you’ll have to work harder. I don’t scare easy.”
His smirk curved dangerous and slow, as though my defiance was exactly what he’d wanted. He let the silence stretch for a beat, then straightened just enough to study me with that piercing gaze.
“Alright then,” he said, his voice still edged with amusement. “Your turn. Tell me something about you I don’t know.”
The way he asked it wasn’t casual—it was deliberate, as if he wanted to peel back another layer I hadn’t meant to show.
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I have a ridiculous fear of escalators.” My tone was light, but I caught the flicker ofcuriosity in his eyes. “Not heights, not falling. Just… escalators. Always have to grab the handrail.”
“Escalators? Why is that?” he asked.
“I saw a video of one breaking. It started to speed up and everyone was bottlenecked at the bottom,” I shuddered, hugging myself slightly. “And the people at the very front got partially sucked in.”
Felix’s eyes darkened, and that low, amused chuckle escaped him again. “You’re telling me this… and you’re still pretending to be fearless?”
“I can be fearless in other ways,” I shot back, smirking despite the tremor in my voice.
“Oh, I have no doubt.” Felix pulled out his phone, looked at the time, and frowned. “It’s getting too late for you to make dinner. I’m going to pick up some Thai food from the restaurant next door.”
He dug into his wallet and handed me cash—far more than enough for groceries. I blinked at it, the weight of his gesture making my chest tighten.
“Check out and I’ll meet you by the car.”
And then, he left. No words of“you know what happens if you run, right?”No teasing threat. Just trust. Or something like it. I stood there for a moment, staring after him, a strange mix of relief and unease curling in my stomach. The grocery store felt impossibly bright and quiet without him, and I realized I was holding my breath.
