If Jo could explain that, if she somehow found the right words, Aida would tell her she was wrong. Aida would call her “babe” and reassure her that she wasn’t going to fuck it up. And Jo would believe it. She would believe it long enough to make it through dessert with their friends. Maybe even long enough to get back to the hotel and say good night to Felix. But the feeling, the voice, would come back. It always did.
Aida didn’t press her for a response. She simply held her until her sobs subsided and then wet a paper towel with cool water and dabbed the red splotches from her cheeks. “I’m so sorry you’ve been feeling like this, Jo,” she said with eyes full of sympathy. “I know I’m usually the problem-solver, but I don’t really know what to tell you.”
“I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
Aida gave her a soft smile. “You know how much I love you, right?”
“Yeah, I know. I love you too.”
“And I trust you,” she continued. “You’re smart, and you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. You drove halfway across the country to figure out what you wanted the rest of your life to look like. Do you know what kind of balls it takes to do that?”
Jo chuckled. A snot bubble came out of her nose.
“For the record,” Aida said as she wiped Jo’s nose, “I’m still on Team You-Two-Should-Fuck. Which probably means you start by telling him how you feel. But whatever choice you make, I promise I trust you to make the right one.” She held up her pinky. “For you.”
Jo hooked her pinky around Aida’s. For me.
“Thank you.”
Aida pulled her in for another hug and kissed Jo’s hair. “Do you want a minute alone, or do you want me to stay?”
“I need a minute,” Jo told her. Aida squeezed her once more before she left. Jo splashed some water on her face, peed, and took several deep breaths in the mirror. Her eyes were puffy and red, but she didn’t really mind if her friends saw. Knowing Aida, she had already told them to play it cool.
Jo stayed quiet through dessert and focused on her exceptional chocolate lava cake. Trey and Aida picked up the bill, because of course they did. They both made good money and were generous to a fault with it. As they all returned to the hotel together, Heather walking slightly crooked from her three whiskey sours, Jo texted Felix that she was on the way. They squeezed into one elevator, stopping for hugs and “see you tomorrows” at each of their floors, until finally Jo rode up to the eighth floor alone. She followed the corridor to room eight-thirteen and knocked before opening the door.
A light was on. From the entryway she could see the ends of two queen beds, one of which was occupied. She shut the door quietly. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” Felix replied over the whisper of rustling sheets. As she stepped fully into the room, he sat up and gave her a soft, sleepy smile.
Oh.
Jo had had no idea, not a goddamn clue, how it would feel to see Felix in bed. He wore a loose, pale gray T-shirt with one sleeve riding up to expose his biceps and deltoid. His hair was mussed from the pillow. The white duvet pooled in his lap as he leaned against the headboard. And that smile he was giving her—Jesus. Even if he’d been standing there fully naked it wouldn’t have been this intimate.
Perhaps it was that intimacy that made her feel brave.
Felix absently scratched an itch on his chest. “Did you have a nice time?”
“Why didn’t you come tonight?”
His mouth fell open, and a tiny, wordless sound came out.
“I wanted you there, Felix.” She kept her voice low but steady, refusing to acknowledge the part of her that was begging her to shut up, to laugh it off. “I wanted you to meet my friends.”
“Jo, I’m sorry,” he said. He got out of bed and approached her. His hand drifted forward, but he didn’t touch her. Thank God. If he did, she would lose the last shred of her composure.
“Why didn’t you come?”
“I—” Felix cut himself off with a strangled sound. He raked both hands roughly through his hair and held his head. His eyes darted back and forth between hers. Then he flung his arms wide and let them fall to his sides. Jo could practically hear him thinking, fuck it. “Because I was afraid of what would’ve happened if we’d walked into this room together.”
She shifted her weight back. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. He couldn’t possibly mean… “Wh-what would have happened?”
Felix took a step, forcing her to crane her neck. His breathing had gone fast and shallow. “If I’d been alone with you after you trusted me with your room key, I would have confessed everything. Everything I feel for you, Jo. Everything I want to have with you. One way or the other, I would have ruined your night. Either by stealing your friends’ thunder with the truth of how much I care about you, or… or by not being able to keep my hands off you.”
Okay. So that was what he meant. Holy shit.
There were other words in there too. Confessions that her heart drank up like a thirsty sponge, but that her mind didn’t know how to handle right now. It was easier to focus on the sexy part of what he said. The part that lit up her every nerve, sharpening her senses and kindling heat low in her belly. She tightened her grip on the strap of her purse, which she apparently hadn’t taken off her shoulder yet. For a moment, it was a lifeline, something tangible to cling to while the world tilted sideways and settled someplace new.
Then Felix moved even closer, towering over her, and the ground became unsteady once more. He must have showered to wash off the grime of the road, because Jo was struck by the scent of cloves and sweet vanilla. She inhaled sharply, involuntarily. Her lips parted as she let out the breath, and Felix’s eyes trailed lazily down to her mouth.
“I would have brought you into this room, Jo, and done anything you asked me to,” he said, his voice deep and oh so gentle. “I would have laid you down and touched you however you wanted, for however long you wanted. I don’t think I’m wrong that you want that as much as I do. Am I?”
His gaze darted back to her eyes. The intensity of the desire in those dark brown pools made her sob—a sound wrenched from deep within, where she was burning from the inside out. Felix’s arm lurched forward, but he stopped himself. His hand curled into a fist. Every muscle in his arm bulged from the effort of not touching her.
“Am I wrong, Jo?” he repeated.
“No,” she whispered. “No, you’re not wrong.”
Felix exhaled slowly. The corners of his lips lifted in a satisfied grin. Not smug. Just pleased. Happy. She’d made him happy.
“I was afraid that if I didn’t put some distance between us in that moment when I wanted you so badly, I’d ruin everything about tonight—maybe this entire weekend—that you were looking forward to,” he said, his smile fading. “It appears I ruined your night anyway, and I’m so sorry, Jo. I’m sorry I didn’t come with you, but even more so, I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Jo fought past the need that blazed through her body. This conversation was important. Before anything else tonight might bring, they needed to finish it. “I was hurt, Felix. And confused,” she said. “But I understand now why you needed some space and why you couldn’t really explain. I forgive you.”
Felix released a shaky breath, relief smoothing the lines on his face.
“You didn’t ruin my night. I had a good time with my friends. And…” She wrung her purse strap. Could he see how her hands shook? Could he see how he made her tremble? “The night isn’t over. If we don’t want it to be.”
“Jo…”
