Page 61 of Head Over Feels
HayNoVampsMay12, 2:08pm
Sorry, got plans
NotMyRealNameMay12, 2:13pm
Sorry,I’vegot a projectI’mworking on
ProfXMay12, 2:13pm
@TrentTandIhave plans, sorry
ConVinceDMay12, 2:39pm
Sorry, not this weekend
CHAPTER18
FELIX
MAY
Iwoke up with my nose in a nest of chest hair.Ijerked my head back, afraidI’ddrooled all overMalcolm.Aquick anxious swipe of my hand over his chest and my chin eased my worry.
“Whatare you doing?”Malcolmgrumbled.Hepulled me back down against himself.Iliked how he could manhandle me.Afteryears of passive-aggressive comments about my weight,Malcolm’seasy acceptance and even appreciation was everything.
“Sorry, didIwake you?”
“Mmmm, not yet.”
Henuzzled my neck, his beard tickling and making me laugh.Thelight streaming in the window told me it was past time to get up.Ihad sessions with the alpaca, one of the sheep and a horse this morning.Iwould’ve liked to skip taking a shower, butIsmelled like sex.Myluck almost guaranteedI’drun intoColeifIdidn’t clean up first.
Ipried myself out ofMalcolm’sembrace, resisting his whining and pouting.Onthe way to my bedroomIprayed no one was passing by the front window and dodged into the living room to snag my phone so it could charge whileIwas in the shower.
Stevehad already texted.Apparentlyhe’d stayed up late reading the next few chapters ofCaptainStarblade.He’dbe caught up withCaland me in a month or so at this rate.Soonerrather than laterIwas going to have to sit him down and feel him out about all the gay sex he’d been reading.
Butnot today.Ihadn’t gotten to send my text last night, so today was my big announcement toSteveandCal.
MalcolmandIare officially dating.Ihave a boyfriend!
Icackled to myself asIplugged the phone into the port on the nightstand in my bedroom.Theguys really had thought of everything when they’d designed this place.Icouldn’t wait to seeSteveandCal’sresponses onceIgot out of the shower.
WhenIexited, wrapped in a towel with steam escaping behind me, the phone was ringing.IguessedSteveandCalhad become too impatient for details.Isnatched the phone up and was swiping my thumb across the screen to answer beforeIregistered the name of the person calling.
Marcie.
Well, shit.I’dalready answered the call.Imight be enough of a jerk to duck a call from my sister, butIwouldn’t hang up on her.
“Hello?Marcie?”
“Felix,” she said, sounding relieved. “Igot a call from aBentOakpolice detective.Areyou alright?Hesaid someone tried tobombyou!”
“I’mokay,Marcie.”Isat on the bed.IwishedMalcolmwere here, butIcouldn’t justify going to find him only so he could hold my hand whileItalked to my sister.
Apparentlythe detective—Ochoa, it turned out—hadn’t been generous with any details.Allhe’d toldMarciewas the bomber might be one of the guysI’dgone out with who she used as characters on her show.
“Felix,Ifeel awful,” she said.Sure, she felt awful from her palatial condo inAtlanta—her second home since she went back and forth toLosAngeles.
Irubbed my face. “It’snot your fault,Marcie.”Ididn’t bother mentioning that ifMarciehad been more careful about masking the real-life details of my ex-dates,Imight not have been in this situation.She’djust deflect the blame back onto me.
