Page 59 of Felix

“It’s lit like a city or something.”

“Yeah, uh, it’s a representation of the portions of our brain that light up in response to fear.”

“Seriously?” he asks, looking over at me with wide eyes.

I nod, pointing to the one next to it. The middle one. “That one is pleasure.”

Christian examines it for a long moment. “It’s so different,” he says, almost in awe.

“Yeah, it is.”

“And this one?” Christian asks, stepping over to the third.

I clear my throat. “That one is love. See this here?” I tap a portion that’s lit. “That’s the midbrain’s ventral tegmental area. Its primary function, above all else, is the assessment of need. It’s what drives us to eat and drink to stay alive. People like to think of love as this wild, intangible thing, lust-driven and passionate. But look.”

Christian looks over at the brain map for pleasure again.

“It’s not the same,” I point out. “When you fall in love…that person becomes a necessity. Your brain lights up the same way it does when you eat or drink or breathe air. That person—loving that person—is something your body has adapted to and now views as essential to your survival. And that…” I huff a laugh, shrugging. “I don’t know. I guess that’s more romantic to me than passion ever could be.”

Christian is quiet, and when I look over at him, he’s staring right back. “That’s remarkable, Specs.”

“Is it?” I ask, knowing I tend to enjoy this stuff vastly more than the average person.

He hums, looking back at the neural representation of love. He stares at it for half a minute before looking at the electrical activity for fear again. Christian swallows, something passing over his face I’m not sure how to decipher, but then he shakes his head and says, “I like these. They’re very you.”

“Cerebral?” I ask with a chuckle.

He tilts his head. Appraising. Thoughtful. “Pretty,” he answers. “Smart and pretty.”

My pulse takes off like a shot.

“I had a scene with Alex this morning,” Christian says, throwing me for a loop. He heads toward the hall, and I follow.

“Um, yeah?”

I knew Christian would be filming with other guys at the studio, of course. And sure, maybe I already checked the schedule and saw he was slated for a scene with Alex. I was curious, sue me.

Christian nods, flipping on the light in my room. When he doesn’t say anything more, I start to worry.

“Was it bad?” I ask.

“Oh, no,” he says quickly, shooting me a small smile. He takes a seat on the edge of my bed, crossing his long legs and leaning back on his arms. His skirt rides indecently high up his legs. “It was fine. Just…different, I guess. He’s very exuberant.”

I huff a laugh. Sounds like Alex.

“It was scripted, too,” Christian says, his leg swinging. “It felt more like a production, you know? Like I was acting. There was a lot of ‘Ooh, baby. Faster, yes. My God, you’re so tight.’”

I snort, and Christian grins.

“But even so,” he goes on, expression turning almost pensive, “it was just sex, you know? It wasn’t… Well, it wasn’t the same as my scenes with you.”

For a moment, I forget how to breathe. “Sex with me is more than sex?” I ask.

It takes Christian a few seconds to answer. His leg keeps swinging, but his face…his face goes through a myriad of emotions, the last of which is resolve. “Yeah, Specs,” he finally says. “I guess it is. At least, it feels that way to me.”

“Oh,” I say, unable to produce a single other word. Wow. That’s… My head spins. Say something! “Um… Thank you?”

Christian’s lips twist into a smile, his expression smoothing into something fond and familiar. “Can I stay here tonight?”

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