Page 110 of Felix

He makes an unhappy sound. “You don’t seem okay.”

“It’s fine,” I murmur, doing my best to keep our conversation private. “I can still do my job.”

“Specs, I—”

“Ten seconds,” Jerome cuts in, his hands counting us down. Christian quiets, but his fingers curl around my own.

As Jerome’s hand falls away, the camera lights up red.

“Hey, everyone,” Christian says, his greeting lacking its usual cheer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the tablet scrolling furiously with text, and it takes me a second to realize why. Christian’s tutu. He chuckles softly. “Thanks, do you like it? I made it for someone special.”

His fingers tighten against mine.

“Unfortunately,” Christian says slowly, “that someone can barely look at me right now.”

My heart thumps, a big, forceful thing. I meet Christian’s gaze slowly, and his eyes, tightened as they were, soften.

“Hi,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” I manage.

Christian aims a smile at the camera, taking in a deep breath. But then he shakes his head. “I, uh… Shit.”

His eyes meet mine again, so very dark, so very troubled, and he says four words you never want to hear during live production.

“I can’t do this.”

My heart sinks.

Oh no.

Chapter 28

Christian

“W-what?” Emil says, gaze pinging from me to the camera and back.

“I can’t do this,” I repeat, not giving a shit about the cameras or the people watching or anyone but Specs, who dropped a big fat I love you and then proceeded to run away from me as quickly as humanly possible, as if expecting me to break his beautiful heart.

As if I would ever.

“Ch—Vixen,” he says, saving his slip at the last moment.

I shake my head, swinging myself toward Emil as he blinks big eyes my way. “No. I’m not okay to do a scene right now, Specs, because I can’t handle my boyfriend thinking he’s the only one.”

His mouth pops open, and I lean closer, threading my fingers through his hair and holding tight so he can’t keep running away.

“You’re going to listen to me now. Just stop and listen, okay?”

Emil nods in my grip.

“I can’t stand the thought of my boyfriend believing I don’t love him, too,” I say clearly, making sure he hears every word. “Not for one more minute. Not for five. And certainly not for sixty while we put on a show. Of course I love you, Specs. And I thought that would be scary, but it’s not.”

“No?” he asks quietly, his voice barely there.

“No,” I say, my lips curving into a smile. “It’s wonderful and fucking good, and you make everything better. My goddamn midbrain lights up when I’m around you. So stop assuming the worst and just…just kiss me, okay? Because I love you—I love you—and the whole world can know for all I care.”

“You…you love me?”

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