After Felix - Lily Morton Page 0,6
should have my number just in case that drink problem rears its head.
Me: Very civic-minded of you, Journalist Max.
The bus pulls up at my stop, and I shake my head and shove my phone in my pocket, pushing him to the back of my mind. I’ll never see him again, but it was good fun, and he was an excellent shag. Dismissing him, I make my way home with a spring in my step and a lovely ache in my arse.
Chapter Three
Felix
I slide into the booth and look over the table. Max looks back at me. He’s lounging with his arm slung along the booth’s back.
I shake my head at him. “So, your ‘just in case you need my number’ actually translates to ‘I’ll text you if I fancy another shag’?”
He laughs and tilts his head to one side, waves of black hair brushing the shoulders of his oatmeal-coloured jumper. “And do you mind?”
I shrug. “Fuck no. I can’t help being a memorable shag. It brings all the boys to my yard.”
He grins. “I can quite see that.”
I take off my parka and wink at him. “Anyway, it takes all of the pesky work out of finding a shag. I approve.”
“What work?” He settles back in the booth as if preparing to be entertained. I smile at the waiter and give him my drink order before turning to Max and folding my arms on the table.
“Well, Max, let’s see. There’s the extreme toil of finding someone who fits all your sexual requirements and is open to doing that with a great deal of physical effort, minimum conversation, and absolutely zero commitments.”
He examines my face intently, not even glancing away when the waiter brings our drinks. I eye him as I take a sip of my Budweiser. “Have I broken you, or is it your age? Are you having a senior moment?”
He laughs, breaking the calculating look on his face. “You’re a cheeky little shit, aren’t you?”
“It has been said.” I put my drink down and eye him. “So, are we going to have a shag, or not? Time’s a-wasting.”
Someone nearby laughs at that and Max grins at me. “So forthright,” he murmurs.
“The privilege of age.” I look at him. “How old are you, anyway?”
There are faint lines at the corners of his eyes and a few threads of grey in his hair, and I’d guessed he was in his late thirties. I didn’t look him up on the internet before coming here tonight, and I resolve to do so when I get home. It’s rare you can actually google someone you’re shagging and get actual results, and not just some ill-advised shit they posted on social media years ago.
“How old do you think I am?” he says mock flirtatiously, leaning in close enough that I catch his scent of sandalwood. It brings back memories of rolling all over those soft sheets in that hotel room. I’ve been perturbed to find my mind straying to memories of that room a few more times than it should have over the last week.
He’s watching me intently again, and I swallow hard and tap my teeth thoughtfully. “I think probably sixty.” He opens his mouth in mock horror, and I laugh. “Only because you’re so wise,” I say reverently. “Being intelligent really piles the years on.”
He shakes his head. “I’m thirty-seven,” he says, trying not to laugh. “Can you see my crow’s feet?”
“A crow never made those lines. That’s surely got to be a bigger bird.” I wink at him as he laughs loudly. I eye the table where a book is sitting next to his pint. “What are you reading?”
He looks slightly awkward. “Ruth Rendell.”
“Oh, Inspector Wexford. My grandma used to watch those on the telly,” I say cheerfully.
“Thank you so much for that information,” he says darkly. “It’s made my day so happy.”
I laugh. “It’s like I carry sunshine wherever I go.” I eye him. “So, do you like reading crime novels?”
“I do.” He smiles. “I’ve always thought it would be incredibly easy to murder someone and get away with it, so I like it that people get found out in these books.”
I blink. “Said no man ever who hoped to get laid.”
He laughs. “I’m not going to murder you, Felix. Your arse is far too perky for that to happen.”
“I always knew my buttocks could save a life.”
He bites his lip, laughter brewing in those dark eyes as he leans forward. “The only way I’ll kill you is when you die