Page 16 of Color of You
The statement held considerable weight.
Felix swallowed and shoved his scarred hand into his pocket.
Yeah. I thought so. The out he was offering wasn’t only because he had a teenage son.
“Did you keep my number?” I finally asked.
Felix nodded.
“My invitation still stands,” I said, stepping forward. “Sometimes you meet a guy and get a little starstruck and can’t think about anything except seeing him again.”
He slowly smiled.
“But I don’t want to pressure you,” I continued. “Think about it and give me a call. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I glanced at the ceiling and then stood on my toes to kiss Felix’s cheek. “Mistletoe,” I said.
He looked up and frowned. “There’s no mistletoe.”
“My mistake.”
Felix smiled wider when he looked down at me again. “Good night, Bo.”
“Good night, Felix.”
“HONEY, I’Mhome,” I called as I opened the front door of my house.
The radiators pinged in response.
I took a moment to hang up all of my winter clothes and crank the thermostat up before going into the kitchen to heat dinner in the microwave. I dumped the takeout onto a plate, pressed a button, then watched the fish tacos slowly rotate.
What an unexpected conclusion to the night.
I agreed to a date with Stephen, even though I knew in my heart it wasn’t something to pursue.
And the guy Iwasinto—who wasn’t straight—was, as far as I could tell, now a lukewarmmaybe. And hallelujah, for once I hadn’t been turned down for being me! In fact, I was getting a vibe that Felix did indeed like my klutzy forwardness.
I pulled out a chair at the table and sat down. Felix having a child should have bothered me more. After all, when I’d made myself an OkCupid profile a year or so back, I’d answered no to kids. And yet, here I was, faced with the reality that the guy I was definitely attracted to had a teenage son who happened to be one of my more talented students. And I felt pretty chill about it. That in and of itself should have been a warning sign that my brain was short-circuiting or something. It was like the plot of a bad TV movie.
The one thing that hadactuallybeen disconcerting was the knowledge that Felix felt it necessary to turn down a date because of how he perceived himself. Those scars. Like they somehow made him unworthy of my attention or interest. I’d been fighting my entire life against preconceived notions based on outward appearance. Felix deserved to know that my definition of beauty was what you harbored in your soul.
It was at that moment, when the microwave beeped and my kitchen smelled pleasantly of fish, that change had come. And it wouldn’t be an easy adjustment. I knew Felix would bring stress and upheaval into my life. But I also knew it was going to be worth it. Because when I heard his voice—everything was the color of warm honey.
THE FISHtacos were good.
In fact, I’d inhaled dinner when my stomach finally realized it hadn’t been fed since noon, and then I teetered on the verge of sleep in front of the television for a while. Despite having teacher-y things I could have done, it’d been a long and overwhelming first day. Parking it in front of oldMystery Science Theaterreruns on the couch won out.
My phone ringing snapped me out of my semiconscious state, and I raised my hips to dig my cell out of my pocket. “Hello?”
“Bowen?”
I perked up and rubbed the sleep from one eye. “Felix?”
“I’m sorry if it’s too late….”
“No, no.” I looked at my watch. Already after ten? Shit. “It’s okay,” I insisted.
