After Felix - Lily Morton Page 0,34

seem to be a better time than after sleeping together and waking up marooned in a warm bed that smells of both of us.

“Not always,” I say slowly.

Worries gather on his forehead like storm clouds. “What do you mean?” he asks cautiously.

I wonder whether to abort this, but this weekend I feel as though I’m barely able to hold on to the string that tethers him close. And I’m suddenly desperate to keep what might be slipping away from me. I should say something before he flies away.

“I’m not really callous about you,” I say tentatively. “Despite my joking.”

His expression isn’t encouraging. He’s watching me as if I’ve morphed into a killer clown.

My resolve falters, but I press on, saying in a tumble of words, “You’ve come to mean such a lot to me, Max, and I—”

“I know,” he says quickly. Like he’s desperate for me to stop.

I talk over him. “And I know it’s not what we agreed, but I’m really hoping that I mean something to you too.”

“You do,” he says, but it sounds pained rather than happy, and my stomach falls to my feet.

Shit.

“So how about us dating?” My voice is overly bright, and I wince at the stunned silence that falls between us and lasts far too long.

“Oh, Felix,” Max says. There’s so much sadness in his voice. Worse, there’s a note that sounds suspiciously like pity.

I’ve abruptly had enough, my face flushing red-hot. “Doesn’t matter,” I say, maintaining my too-peppy voice, throwing the covers back. “It was just a thought. No harm done. Ignore me. Maybe I’m still drunk.”

“No, wait,” he grits out, seizing my arm before I can leave the bed. “Please wait, Felix. I need to—”

The sudden trill of his phone interrupts, and for a second, we stare at each other, the only sound the phone and our raised breathing.

“You should get that,” I say. He grunts out an obscene curse, and I pick up his phone. “It’s Ivo.” It really is a miracle how I’m able to keep my voice sounding so even and clear. Because inside, I feel like I’ve been punched.

“Of course it is,” he mutters. But he still grabs the phone and connects the call.

That hurts for some strange reason, and I finally force myself from the bed and make my way into the bathroom.

I start the shower, wanting to escape his shrewd eyes. Standing under the hot water with my eyes closed seems the best way to do that at the moment. The door swings open, letting in a cold blast of air. Okay, no escape for Felix.

I swipe water from my eyes and stare at him. He’s dressed in faded jeans with flip-flops and a T-shirt advertising a motorcycle workshop. His hair is a dark mess of waves, and he has a pillow crease down his face.

“I have to go and help Ivo,” he says reluctantly. “The florist who’s supplying the flowers in the village has broken down in her van. I’m going to pick up the flowers.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I say brightly. “Good on you for helping Ivo. You are the best man, after all.”

Something flickers in his eyes, and then he seems to steel himself. “We need to talk,” he says.

“No, we don’t.” I shake my head to emphasise my point and squeeze some shampoo into my hand.

“We do. Felix, look at me, please.”

I meet his dark eyes. They look pained.

“Felix, I’m sorry,” he says. “I need to tell you something.”

His phone rings again, and he gives a truly vile curse.

“We’ll talk after,” I say steadily. “You need to go to Ivo now.”

“You promise?” He hovers, looking uncertain.

I nod brightly. “Of course. I’m not going anywhere. We can talk after the wedding.” Relief crosses his face, and I gesture toward the door. “Go on. We’ll talk in a bit.”

He nods and leaves the bathroom. His body language screams that he’s glad to be gone, and I actually feel sick. I rest against the shower wall, letting the water pound down on me, my eyes clenched shut. “Well, that did not go well,” I say out loud.

I wonder what to do now. Do I pretend I never said anything? Does it even matter?

I’ve done it now, and Max clearly already has a foot out of the door.

I switch off the shower. I’m not going to think about it anymore and act morose or worried. If I’m going to salvage this and keep seeing him—which is my deepest desire—then I need to keep it light.

Make him laugh