Over Brandt’s shoulder, Wil is pulling a face and shaking his head.
“Maybe next summer,” I prevaricate. “It can be tough to fit things in during the season.”
Judging from the beaming smiles I get from everyone except a pouting Brandt, that was the right thing to say.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ari
“Thanks for last night,”Felix murmurs, his eyes still sleepy as he looks down at me. I’m not sure when exactly he rolled on top of me, but he woke me up with kisses a minute ago, so I’m not complaining.
“Maybe I should be the one thanking you,” I reply, chasing his mouth for another kiss. “I came so hard that I’m pretty sure I blacked out.”
His mouth curves into a smile that I can feel. “You’re welcome. But I meant, thanks for coming to the game and bringing Riley. He had the time of his life, and I really liked knowing that you were there.”
I both love and hate the edge of vulnerability in Felix’s voice. It reassures my own deep insecurities to know I can affect him like that, but also, my Felix should never feel anything but content and secure. Which leads to me hating myself, because he’s not “my” Felix, and he never can be—not that way. I have nothing to offer him, not even myself.
“I liked being there,” I admit. “I loved watching you play. You’re so talented, Fe. It’s beautiful to see.”
His cheeks pinken. “So you’d come to more games? Even after you go back to working full time at the DEA?”
“Of course! I’m still learning how everything works, but you’ve converted me into a hockey fan. I’m going to be at every game I can, supporting you.”
My words seem to echo through the room. I’d think it was just me, but Felix’s expression has changed, tightening a little, going from open and happy to tentative.
“I’m glad,” he says. “I know there will be times when you’ll be on shift or have other stuff on, but I like when you’re there to support me.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“And,” his eyes search my face, “if you wanted, I could support you too.”
I chuckle. “Unfortunately, my job isn’t one where we charge spectators to watch.”
“Ha. Ha. Funny. No, I just meant that if you wanted to talk, I could listen. No pressure. But I know you’ve got stuff going on, and it seems like sometimes it’s heavy. I probably wouldn’t be able to help with any of it, but I’m a pretty good listener.”
My body must have turned to concrete, it feels that heavy. I don’t know what to say—don’t know if I could say it, even if I had a whole speech prepared. Talking to Felix about everything that weighs on me would be the worst thing I could do. He would hate me if he knew the truth. Hate everything about me. That’s why being with him now is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done—partly because I can’t give him the forever I so desperately wish I could, but mostly because if he knew who I really was, he wouldn’t want that forever anyway. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me.
He definitely wouldn’t be in my bed, waking me with kisses as he lies on top of me, offering to share my burdens and watching me with a worried face.
I muster a smile from somewhere. It feels stiff on my face, but it has to be better than the blankness I had before. “Iappreciate that. There’s a lot I can’t talk about because it’s classified, but if I ever need to vent, I know where you are.”
The worry lifts, and he grins as he tosses back the covers and climbs out of bed. “Good. Come on, get up. I’ll make us pancakes for breakfast.”
Felix saunters toward the bathroom, an extra little sway in his step, but I don’t let myself look. I don’t deserve it. Not after the way I lied to his face.
I manageto keep up the façade of normality through breakfast and even after I get to work. The morning briefing is a little longer than usual, because apparently Raðulfr was inspired by the game last night and wants to do more to encourage elves to love hockey. Brandt’s wild enthusiasm probably didn’t help any—I’m pretty sure Wil is currently trying to talk Steffen down from a bout of paranoia after hearing about plans for aerial hockey played in dragon form. He wanted it to be aerial ice hockey, but Wil pointed out that they couldn’t manage the logistics involved. I don’t even know what those logistics would be. Did he want a floating ice rink big enough for ten dragons to play on it?
Eoin looks tired when he finally sends us back to work, and I pause beside him. “Coffee?”
The expression of pure longing is all the answer I need, and I chuckle. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“No, wait. I’ll come with you.” He stacks the report folders and dumps them on his desk. “I don’t want to be here for the rush of questions that will no doubt descend when today’s updates go out.”
“You’re a smart man.” I wait while he locks down his computer, and then we head toward reception and the elevators. There’s coffee in the break room, of course, but everyone knows that an offer of “Coffee?” means “I’m escaping to the café across the street.”
We pause at reception, where Dáithí is juggling several people at once, and Eoin mimes that he’ll bring coffee back for him. If I didn’t already know they’re together, I would after that. Dáithí’s look of gratitude is basically the promise of a blow job.
The café is always busy at this time of morning, as office workers like us realize that we didn’t fuel up enough for a day of corporate droning and desperately race off for a caffeine infusion. The smart ones hold informal team meetings right here in the café. We join the line for our turn, greet the cashier and barista, and then wait at the end of the counter for our drinks.
