Page 73 of Felix

“I do.”

“I’ll think about it,” he murmurs. But then he yawns, loudly.

I give his arm another squeeze before letting go. “We should get out of here. You look beat.”

“Yeah. Probably not a bad idea.”

Noel and I return our dishes to the counter before heading for the door. He promises to keep me updated about Max and the club, and I promise the same of Emil and the studio. On my walk home, my thoughts flit to my boyfriend. He’ll be back from class soon, and I’m pretty sure we’ve got a date lined up that involves him, me, the couch, and our favorite nature documentarian. I wonder what Arthur and his new friend would like to eat for dinner tonight. Maybe some strawberries?

It hits me, as I’m a block from my apartment, that I’m making plans that involve someone other than just me for once. A few someones, if you count tiny, adorable hermit crabs, which I do.

I don’t hate it.

I don’t hate it one bit.

Chapter 19

Emil

“Have you picked a name yet?” Christian asks, his thumb distracting me as it glides over the skin near my belly button.

“A name?”

“For your new hermit crab,” he says, chuckling.

“Oh. Right. Um, not yet.”

He hums, the vibration of it feeling almost like a purr. Before I can rub back against him like a cat myself, my phone rings. I pick it up, seeing my brother Henry’s name on the screen.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hey,” he says simply.

I scoot up, and Christian lets me go, rolling onto his back as I sit beside him. “What’s up?”

“So, I was wondering…”

My brother goes quiet, and I look at the time. It’s a school night, but early still. If he’s calling, there’s a reason. “Want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah. Can we go to that arcade by your place?”

I huff a laugh. “I actually moved, but yeah, we can still go there. Be ready in fifteen?”

“You got it,” Henry says and clicks off the call.

I turn toward Christian. “Want to play some arcade games with a fourteen-year-old?”

“Your brother?” he asks. I nod, and he grins, but the expression falls quickly away. “Should I go change first?”

“What? Why?” I say, glancing at his outfit. He’s wearing a skirt today, which isn’t a surprise. But unlike some of his bolder, shorter options, this one is long and black, with a bit of a flare that makes it billow out when he walks. He paired it with a t-shirt that has a somewhat distressed, vintage feel. It’s a casual look, perfect for the arcade, so I’m not sure why he would want to change. “You look great. You don’t need to be fancy for this.”

He cocks his head slightly. “The skirt, Specs. Would your brother be offended by the skirt?”

I nearly laugh but stop short fast. Christian doesn’t know my family. His concern is justified, as shitty as that fact is. And since I’m fairly positive Christian isn’t in the habit of hiding himself for anyone else’s benefit, the idea that he’s willing to do that just to make a good impression with my family is sweet yet tastes like a bitter pill.

“I don’t want you to be anyone but who you are,” I tell him seriously. “My brother will like you because I like you. Don’t change.”

Not your clothes. Not anything.

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