Page 54 of Felix

He shrugs. “People aren’t always permanent, Christian.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He shrugs again, looking off toward Arthur’s terrarium. “You never know. I had to leave my last apartment because they found asbestos in the basement. Things happen.”

I take a step closer, my breath shuddering. “And you think, if one or both of us ends up moving, we’ll stop being friends?”

His eyes ping to mine for only a second. “I don’t know what to think.”

His answer stings, but how can I blame Emil for being uncertain about…us when I haven’t given him any indication I’m planning on sticking around for good? Not just here, in this neighborhood, but with him. I want to be around him.

I haven’t said that, though, have I? I’ve barely been able to admit it to myself.

I’ve seen what romantic attachments do to people. Seen what happens when you lose the person you love.

I guess, in a way, I can understand perfectly why Emil is so scared of losing something he’s never really had.

“Well,” I say softly, clearing my throat. “I think you look nice, Specs. I always do, even when your hair is rumpled and you drool on your pillow.”

His mouth falls open. “I don’t drool.”

I hold my thumb and forefinger a half inch apart, as if to say a little bit.

Emil, indignant, shoves my shoulder. I laugh as I catch my balance, Emil’s hand helping to steady me, even though he was the one to unbalance me in the first place. His eyes drop, gaze trailing over my legs and up my body as if he can’t quite help himself. With a shake of his head, he lets me go.

“Well…maybe you should stop stalking me,” he mutters, walking past me to grab his keys.

I hum, unperturbed. “You could always close your curtains. But you like it, don’t you, my little exhibitionist? You like me watching you, whether you’re sleeping, studying, or fisting your cock.”

Emil freezes, his shoulders going ramrod straight. He lets out a breath before turning. “Christian.”

“Mm?” I ask, pulse kicking.

“You can’t say stuff like that when we’re out.”

“No?”

He shakes his head, the motion slow, his brown eyes looking almost hazy as he blinks once. “No. Because if you tempt me, I’m going to try to get you to fuck me where everyone can see. And that can’t happen. Okay? No matter how much I beg for it.”

My inhale is sharp, my cock thickening as the mental image of Emil begging enters my mind. Emil on his knees. Emil’s lips wrapped around my cock. Emil pleading with me to fuck him already, to get my dick inside his ass before he loses it and asks someone else to do it.

“Christian,” he says, snapping me out of my reverie. He takes a single step closer, expression serious. “I’m not kidding. You have to promise me. Because I’d do it, but I can’t. I can’t, okay? It could seriously fuck up my future, and the risk isn’t worth it. So you need to promise me, no matter when, no matter what I say, you won’t let me do that in public. Ever.”

I swallow roughly. “I understand, Specs. And I promise.”

He breathes out, nodding as he slips his wallet into his pocket. His jeans, I notice, are pulled much more snugly against his crotch than they were a moment ago.

“Ready?” he asks.

Christ. I’m not sure I am, not after that. But I nod, setting down my untouched water, and the two of us head out the door.

Sublime, as it turns out, is like every other club in Las Vegas. Loud. Lit up. And brimming with energy.

We head right to the VIP balcony above the dance floor. Several of our coworkers are already here, and Emil and I find a couch to share as a couple servers move about in skimpy shorts. With a pinch in my gut, my thoughts flit to Noel. I haven’t heard from him in over a week.

A tap on my arm shifts my focus. “Want a drink?” Emil asks.

I lean closer so he doesn’t have to shout. “Trying to loosen me up, Specs?”

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