One of them?I can feel my neck growing hot with rage. “How many bullies did you have? Are they still in town?”
This time, Felix releases a full-throated guffaw. “Would you find each one and do to them what you did to Derek?”
“Fuck, yeah, I would!” I realize too late that I shouted that, and the guests closest to us look on with shock and horror.
Felix covers his mouth to muffle his laughing, and the event lead approaches. “Is anything wrong?” he asks, looking at me with fury blazing in his eyes.
“Not at all,” Felix replies. “This is an…old friend.”
The event lead’s jaw clicks, and he leans in and whispers, “Language, please…”
“Noted. Sorry.”
He saunters off, leaving me with Felix. I signal for him to follow me to a far corner of the room away from everyone, because I want to talk.
Really talk.
“Look, I know this is weird—I’m the one who pushed you away. I get it, but I have to know you’re okay. You didn’t look like yourself. Is it my fault, or are they,” I motion to the general world he has to live in, “doing something to you?”
He stares at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Do you care?” he asks.
His words cut me to my core, because he’s asking what I’ve been trying to convince myself wasn’t true for weeks.
Yes, I care—a lot.
I could kick myself for winding up this way, but it’s the truth. Felix can’t be hurting. Not the way he was at that press conference or in the picture in the newspaper. “Yes.” My eyes turn away because I can’t even look at him when I say it.
Coward.
When I turn to him again, my face hot with embarrassment, he smiles, easing my humiliation a little, and says, “I’m okay.”
It’s the first time I’ve felt relief since I pushed him away. “Good.”
He tilts his head, a look of awe on his face. “You were in front of my house a few nights ago, and at the press conference. I heard your motorcycle.”
Well, if he wasn’t going to call security before, he will now.
Yes, officer, I’m a full-fledged stalker.
“Yeah. It was me.” Sadness settles in. Here, I’ve been trying to push Felix away for weeks, and now, he’s about to push me away, and how do I feel?
Awful.
This is it. It’s over. But I want this version of Felix burned in my mind for eternity—healthy, hot, and looking dapper as hell. So, I look up and take him in, memorizing every feature for the future.
His face is kind and sweet. It’s a new look for him, and it makes me feel warm all over.
“You do care,” he says with amazement.
I can’t breathe. I want to hug him, hold him. Slant our lips together and whisk him away from this place, but I can’t. All I can do is reply, “I do,” in a strangled voice.
We stand there, two men without a clue on what to say or how to navigate this situation, when it hits me that the thought of saying,“Well, I just wanted to check in. Have a nice life,”makes me depressed beyond words. Maybe I can be close without hurting him? Maybe we can be…friends?
All I know is the idea of not seeing him again makes my heart ache. Every logical brain cell I have is screaming at me to run away. Instead of listening to my brain, which I have a habit of neglecting and abusing with alcohol, I blurt out, “Can I take you out for coffee after this?”
His cheeks grow red, and his smile brightens.Fuck, he’s so good-looking.“I could probably sneak away after my father makes his big entrance.”
“Okay. J-just a coffee, you know. To talk. I don’t…” I’m stuttering, trying to rationalize why I pushed him away, how I can’t be with him, yet acknowledge that Ineedto see him at the same time, when he rescues me from my spiral.
