But the look in Jo’s pale brown eyes was… hopeful, almost pleading.
Fuck being a gentleman.
“Are you sure, Jo?” he asked. Gentleman or (decidedly) not, he had to be certain the offer was genuine. He watched her closely for any sign of apprehension. “You’re comfortable with that?”
Without so much as a blink, Jo’s gaze sharpened. She pulled one of the keycards from her little booklet and held it out to him like a precious offering. “Yes.”
He reached out with both hands, enclosing them around her fingers and letting her release the key to him. He withdrew with deliberate gentleness and watched her breath catch in her chest. He inched half a step closer to her.
“You guys are joining us for dinner, right?” Max blurted.
Felix looked past Jo. Max was distracted by something on his phone, but Kim was watching closely, her wide eyes darting back and forth between them, wearing an expression that plainly said, Holy shit, are these two fucking?
Jo spun to face her friends as if nothing had happened. “Yup! We’ll take our stuff upstairs and meet you back here in a few.”
“Jo,” Felix said. “I’m pretty tired. Mind if I take a raincheck on dinner?”
The disappointment on her face was a knife between his ribs.
“If that’s what you want.”
“I’ll meet everyone tomorrow, I promise,” he said quietly. “Go catch up with your friends. I’ll take your bags upstairs for you.” He stooped to gather everything; he could manage it all in one trip if he planned it right.
“Okay,” Jo said. “It’s room eight-thirteen. I’ll text you when I’m headed back.”
“I’ll see you in a bit.” He raised his voice to call, “Kim, Max, good to meet you. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Have fun at dinner.”
Her eyes burned into his back all the way to the elevator. As the doors closed between them, those eyes, wide and anguished, were the last thing he saw.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Felix squeezed his own eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look at himself in the mirrored walls that surrounded him. “I’m sorry, Jo.”
12
“Are you two fucking?” Kim asked the second the elevator doors shut.
Jo whirled around, the blunt question distracting her from her quickly spiraling thoughts.
Max peeked up from the game on his phone and shook his faded teal hair out of his eyes. “Who’s fucking?”
“Jo and that guy,” Kim said, smacking him on the arm. “Did you see the way they looked at each other?”
“Um, no?”
“We’re not—!” Jo cried, then remembered she was in public. She lowered her voice. “We’re not fucking.”
“But you want to be, right?” Kim said, looping her arm through Jo’s and pulling her toward the front doors.
“I… maybe?” she admitted.
Max trailed behind them, staring at his game.
“Oooooo, you’re blushing,” Kim said. “Come on, I need to see everyone’s faces when they find out.”
“No, please don’t!” Jo cried. “Felix and I are friends. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable around everyone.”
Oh God, was that why he bailed on dinner? Here she was thinking that Indi-Con had already freaked him out. That he would hole up in the hotel room all weekend and say “fuck it” to the con, to MnM, to everything. But maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe he took one look at Kim’s face and realized he couldn’t handle all of Jo’s friends jumping to the same conclusion she had. Just because he’d been a little flirty today didn’t mean he wanted, or deserved, to be paraded around for their inspection.
Jo glanced back toward the elevator, wondering if she should follow him and make sure things weren’t going to be weird now. Or would that make it worse, to admit to what Kim saw between them? Probably best to give him his space. She could play along with his story that he was tired. She was used to making excuses for the man in her life.
But first, she had to deal with the person currently dragging her across the lobby. Jo planted her feet and forced them to a stop. “Kim, listen. There’s a reason I told the group I was bringing a friend that I’m volunteering with. I’m not ready for everyone to know. Hell, I’m not even sure I know what just happened between us. Please, for now, keep this to yourself.”
“What’s going on?” Max asked as he caught up with them.
“Nothing,” Kim said quickly, and Jo mouthed “thank you” to her. “Nothing’s going on.”
Kim, Max, and Jo were the last of their friends to arrive at Dilley’s Bar & Grill for dinner. The circle of Heather, David, Young, Aida, and Trey expanded to include them. They practically fell over each other trying to be the first to hug Jo. When Aida finally made it to her, Jo grabbed onto her tightly.
“God, I missed you,” Jo said, blinking back tears. Her arms fully encircled Aida’s long and lean form, made even taller by the heels she wore. The woman seriously dressed like she was on the way to a board meeting every day of the week: pantsuit, silk blouse, heels, full makeup and hair, the whole nine.
“I missed you too, babe,” Aida said. “How was the drive?”
Jo knew what she was really asking. “Oh my God, I don’t even know,” she whispered. “I have so much to tell you.”
“Bathroom later.”
They broke apart, and Aida’s fiancé, a handsome, pudgy Black man named Trey Wilson, swept Jo into his arms.
