Page 73 of After Felix
And that’s the tragedy of us. The sex was incendiary, but it was never anything else to Max. I’m abruptly furious with him for making me think otherwise for even a second.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” I say in a warning voice.
For once he doesn’t force the issue. He watches me with sharp eyes, and maybe he reads the exhaustion that suddenly weighs me down because he inclines his head and says gently, “As you wish.”
I grimace. “And now you’re Princess Bride-ing me. It’s not fair. I can’t concentrate around you, Max. I have never been able to. You make my head dizzy. You always have.” I bite my lip and feel my cheeks burning. Never in a million years had I meant to confess that.
He scrutinizes me and something that looks suspiciously like happiness settles on his face.
“Ugh!” I groan. “Why do you look so happy?”
“Never mind,” he says carelessly. “Let’s get some sleep.”
I eye him. “I need to get undressed.” His eyes kindle, and I shake my head. “Turn around,” I instruct him. “And don’t peep.”
“I’m not fourteen. I don’tpeep,” he says in a disgusted voice. I make a spinning gesture with my fingers, and he obeys with a huff.
“Tell me when you’re done,” he says. There’s a long pause. “But tell me immediately and not when you’ve been in bed for a few hours.”
I laugh because he knows me so well. I quickly strip off my suit, pulling on pyjama shorts and a T-shirt and opening the cubicle to get my toothbrush.
“You can look now,” I say with a mouthful of toothpaste.
He turns and directs a heated glance at my body. I shake my head. “I feel like a piece of steak being eyed up by a dog,” I say, turning to spit out the toothpaste.
“You’d be fillet, my darling.”
“Don’t call me that,” I start to say, but the words die away when I see him taking his clothes off. Unlike me, he shows no modesty at all stripping casually until he’s down to his skin. I swallow hard. His sleek tanned skin.
“Alright?” he asks, pulling on a pair of pyjama shorts very slowly.
“Fine,” I say quickly. “Why?”
“You’ve got a bit of something there,” he says, pointing at my chin.
I raise my fingers. “What is it? Toothpaste?”
He winks. “No, it’s drool.”
I shake my head as he laughs. “Twat,” I say with great feeling.
We climb into our bunks, and I smile at his huffing and muttering. “Are you comfortable down there?” I shout.
“Felix, I’m about a foot underneath you. Not two miles away. There’s no need to shout.”
“This isepic,”I say in a happy tone that’s designed to aggravate. “Shall we tell stories in the dark?”
“Of course,” he says darkly. “Mine will be about this naughty boy called Felix who got spanked in a train carriage.”
“How very public school of him,” I say cheerily, and he snorts.
“Well, if sex is off the table, we should get some sleep.”
“That’sit?” I say in a tone of astonishment. “Those are the only two things you can think of to do in bunk beds? Sleep or fuck. What happened to tickling and pillow fights and boyish pranks?”
“Goodnight, Felix,” he says in a tone of doom, and I laugh.
It takes me a while to fall asleep, as my thoughts keep me busy, so it feels like I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes when something wakes me.
