“What are you saying?”
“She seems like a person who’s going to stir up trouble, one way or another.”
My stomach chooses that moment to let out a disturbing rumble.
“I forgot to have breakfast,” I explain, in case he thought I was having intestinal issues.
“Why don’t you go eat?” he asks, like I’m too slow to figure it out on my own.
Felix probably knows this is the good lounger. The second I leave, he’s going to steal it for himself. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I mean, not really? It’s nice having someone to talk to.”
Extrovert alert! My phone buzzes, distracting both of us.
“Who is it?” he asks when I check the notifications. “Boyfriend back home missing you already?”
I swallow the urge to sayNone of your beeswax.I’m not 100 percent convinced Felix isn’t making fun of me, like the idea of me having a boyfriend is hilarious. “Maybe.”
“Maybe you have a boyfriend or maybe he misses you?”
“Both. It’s the real deal. He’s very… solid.” Said no one ever about their significant other. “Totally shredded,” I add, flexing like I’m in a bodybuilding competition.
Felix nods like he’s familiar with the type “’Roids?”
“MMA,” I double down. “What about you?”
“You mean my special someone at home? Yeah. She can bench like 500 pounds. Rip phone books in half. Total beast.”
“She must be crying into her Muscle Milk. What did you say her name was?”
“I didn’t.” His pause is impressively brief, almost as if he’s telling the truth. “But it’s Olga.”
“Olga.”
Felix nods. “She promised to write.”
“Literate and everything. Lucky you.”
“Thank you. I’m guessing your guy is named something like Fortress or Obsidian.”
“Yes. I’m dating a bottle of Axe body spray.”
He tries to pass it off as a cough, but I know I made him laugh.
Picking up the magazine, I open to a random page near the middle and pretend to be absorbed in an ad for eye cream. In case I want to see visible signs of improvement for those really deep wrinkles in seven days.
“Are you going to swim?” Felix asks, interrupting my not-reading.
“Why? Did you have more invasive personal questions?” I’m not usually this quick with comebacks, but Felix seems to bring it out in me—the speed and the attitude.
“I was hoping I could borrow your magazine,” he deadpans. “I’ve always wanted to know how to slay with satin in the boardroom. Are we talking suffocation?”
“More of a garrote.” I mime choking someone to death.
Shaking his head to hide what I’m pretty sure is another smile, he drags his bag closer. My eyes go wide when I see what he’s hauling around.
“What?” he says, defensive.
