Page 17 of Felix

“Yeah, it’s a nice bonus,” he says, letting the door shut. “Last up is the locker room.”

He opens that door, too, and I step inside. The room is well-lit, with a bank of lockers and some large mirrors along one wall. There are sinks and toilets, and around a corner, a row of curtained shower stalls. I walk back toward the lockers, looking at the names on each.

“Which is yours?” I ask, fingers running over the metal doors.

Emil steps over to the one that reads “Felix” and gives it a tap. “This is me.”

My lips quirk. “Suits you. It’s very…”

“Nerdy?” he says with a laugh.

“In the best way,” I answer, meaning it.

He clears his throat. “Well, Vixen suits you.”

“Does it?”

He nods, although his eyes flit away again, like he’s self-conscious. It’s so strange to see. I never would have pegged my neighbor as the shy type, not after what I’ve seen him do.

“The people here…” I say slowly. “They’re good, aren’t they?”

I got that impression during my interview and while meeting everyone today, but I trust Specs would tell if that’s not the case. I’d hate to end up in another toxic work environment.

He nods, though. “Yeah, everyone is seriously great. Jerome wouldn’t let anyone get away with shit. Nor would Alex. The guy might be a menace,” he says with a huff, “but he’s a good menace.”

“Alex is Tink, right?”

He nods again.

“Can I ask how you got into porn?” Quickly, I add, “Unless that’s personal.”

“It is, a bit,” he says, shifting on his feet. “But I have a feeling you can guess.”

Yeah, I can. Emil is an exhibitionist. I wonder if the people here know that about him. If they know he likes to show off, even in the privacy of his own home where the only person who can see him is me.

Emil’s cheeks color a little, as if his thoughts went the same direction as mine.

“And you?” he asks. “How’d you find us?”

I’d say fate, but I know Emil doesn’t believe in that. I’m not sure what I believe—if there’s any sort of rhyme or reason to the chaos of this world or if, as Emil said, it’s all just a beautiful sort of happenstance.

“Chance, I guess?” I answer.

“Lucky us,” he mumbles almost entirely under his breath.

“Lucky me, too.”

Emil ducks his head, cheeks flushed, and it’s so endearing, my chest squeezes tight. He makes for the exit, leaving me jogging to catch up.

“So, that’s everything,” he says, holding the door as I pass through. “If you have questions or whatever, just let me know.”

“Emil,” I say softly.

He stops, facing me in the hall outside of the locker room.

“I’m glad I got the chance to meet you,” I tell him seriously. “But I understand if this changes things between us. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Ever. I’ll follow your lead.”

He blinks. “Nothing has changed.”

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