After Felix - Lily Morton Page 0,97

on a bike. “This bridge is fucking huge. Why couldn’t we just meet at Costa like normal people?”

Finally, I see him. He’s leaning against a balustrade looking out over the stretch of water. He’s dressed in old jeans and combat boots with a black jacket and a big scarf wrapped around his neck. The cast is off now. His cheekbones are red from the cold, and the wind blows his black hair about his face. My footsteps falter as I’m suddenly slammed with the most ginormous surge of feeling at seeing him again after the last empty few days. It makes my fingers tingle, and my heart beat faster, and suddenly I know.

Misha was right. I made my decision about Max ages ago. Maybe it was when he took me to my bookshop again, or when we lay together in a narrow bed on an expensive train and he told me secrets, or maybe it was when he listened to me and gave me my heart’s desire even though it was a tatty Christmas annual. I stop dead, and he looks up and sees me. A wave of emotion flows over his face, and as I begin walking towards him again I can see his eyes are burning with feeling.

“You came,” he says. He makes an abrupt move, as if he wants to drag me into his arms, but he stops himself, his hands curling into fists.

I’m suddenly nervous. “Well, I had to see St Paul’s.” He looks surprised, and I flood the air with more speech. “You can see it from here if you look under the bridge. There’s a full-scale replica of the cathedral on one of the buttresses. No one sees it now. I think—” My words abruptly run out.

“Really?” he says with that sudden enthusiasm he shows for so many things in life. “Let’s see.” He hoists himself over the balustrade and dangles.

“Oh, Max. Jesus, be careful,” I shout, darting to his side.

“I can see it,” he calls.

“That’s brilliant. Now try seeing it from a standing position. On the ground.” I tug his coat until he comes back down next to me. For a second, we stare at each other.

“You and your little facts,” he says, and the tenderness and joy are ripe in his voice.

“You just want to see my penis again,” I say softly, harking back to the Cotswolds.

He shakes his head. “I’d prefer to see your heart.”

I groan. “What am I going to do with you, Max? That was unforgivably cheesy.”

“Never leave me?” he suggests, no teasing at all in his tone. “That would be a start.”

“A start to what?”

“Forever, Felix.”

I take a deep breath. “I think I can manage that,” I say hoarsely.

“Say it again,” he demands.

I obey, and he suddenly laughs and seizes me. “And again and again and again, darling.”

“Don’t call me darling,” I say automatically.

“I shall every day from now on.”

“Even though when I’m nervous I spout stupid facts?”

“Yes, because I’ve had long years without them and now I have you back. I can’t believe I’ve really got you back,” he says wonderingly.

I nod. “You could divide your time as Before Felix and After Felix.” I pause. “Although that makes me sound a bit like Jesus, and I’m really not good-natured enough to take his role. And I can’t grow a beard to save my life.”

“I think his hirsute place is secure for now,” he says solemnly. He smiles tenderly. “You couldn’t divide my life like that because there is no After Felix for me. This is it. You’ve spoilt me for all other men. My tastes have narrowed to thin men with a mess of hair and a tongue sharper than a knife.”

My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. “That is rather specific,” I say faintly. “You’re narrowing the field a lot with that criteria.”

There’s a silence, and he suppresses a smile and pinches me gently. “Well?”

“What? Oh yes, it’s mutual,” I say awkwardly.

“You like thin, sassy men too? What an amazing coincidence.”

“You’re such a prat. No.” I swallow hard and finally throw all my concerns away. It feels fucking fantastic. “I like big, charismatic men who make me laugh, infuriate me, and make me feel incredibly safe.”

He swallows hard. “Really? I make you feel safe? I didn’t think that would ever happen again.” He grabs me in a huge hug, and I inhale the scent of sandalwood and feel the strength of the arms holding me. It seems like my whole