Yeah, I remembered this feeling all right. Love.
Pure, simple, all-consuming love. The kind of love that made me want to be as close as I could be, always, and never leave his side.
I pushed the thought aside in a panic. No, nope,no. Nuh-uh.
I wasn’t doing this. Iwasn’t.
“You okay?” Felix asked.
“Fine,” I said. “Perfect. Why wouldn’t I be?” I responded, holding the book closer to my chest. Not quite hugging it, but bordering on it.
“I need a picture of this, don’t move,” Felix said.
Right, obviously he needed a picture. We were still selling the boyfriend story until his manuscript got accepted by the publisher.
“Just hold that thought,” Felix said, snapping a handful of shots, moving, taking a few more, biting his lip, and then taking a couple extra from a different angle for good measure.
At least he’d gained some valuable photography skills watching me. His Instagram feed already lookedwaybetter.
When he was done, he grinned at me like this was the most exciting thing that’d ever happened to him, and my heart tripped and fell down a goddamn flight of stairs and landed helpless at the bottom.
…Felixwas supposed to be the writer. Apparently, he’d rubbed off on me, too.
I snorted at the internal pun and realized with horror that nowIwas making them.
“What?” Felix asked, sitting back down and turning his attention to breakfast again.
“I was just thinking we’ve rubbed off on each other,” I said, halfway between horror that I was saying it aloud and pride that I’d thought it at all.
That was the thing that made punspuns, though. That combination of pride in your own genius and horror at what you’d done.
“Icannotbelieve you said that,” Felix said, mouth hanging open. “Nowyou’remaking puns. I’m so sorry.”
“Not nearly as sorry as I am,” I laughed. “Donottell anyone about this.” I jabbed my fork at him, mock-threatening.
“It’s like you don’t know me at all,” Felix said, grinning to himself between bites of pancake. I’d found out he didn’t own an actual waffle maker right after I’d finished the batter, so pancakes it was. “I’m telling your whole family. I’m tellingCarter, he’ll be thrilled.”
He would be. Hewouldbe, and it wasn’t as if I could actually stop Felix doing it.
“You’re supposed to be my friend. You’re supposed to be myboyfriend,” I objected.
Felix shrugged. “Since when has that meant I can’t embarrass you in front of your friends?” he asked. “That’s in the job description. I can’twaitto get to lunch now.”
I groaned aloud, but on the inside, I was glad. Felix hadn’t wanted to leave New York yesterday, and he wasn’t sold on Slow Falls yet, but... he could be, couldn’t he? One day, maybe.
It might’ve been wishful thinking, but we’d had a great weekend together. Maybe it didn’t have to end. Maybe he’d come visit now and then.
I could wait for him.
* * *
“So didhe bitch about New York as much to you as he did to me?” Carter asked, passing Felix a plate the moment we shrugged our coats off.
Aiden and Carter didn’t do formal sit-down lunches. They didn’t have the space, and even if they had, Carter wasn’t a Sunday roast kind of cook.
He was more amake forty dishes in a paniccook. All of them were good, and I looked forward to his and Aiden’s hosting weeks, but if Felix had been expecting to get a seat without a fight, he was in for a surprise.
“It’s so loud,” I said, before I realized that was exactly what Carter was talking about.
