Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
Duncan
With the adrenaline and sugar running through me, the last thing I can focus on is music.
Not to mention, for some reason Felix being in my studio makes me nervous, so I opt to let him jam out on the couch while I busy myself with making us something to eat.
Marci always said it was impolite to have guests and not feed them, and I don’t want to seem like a bad host.
Especially, given the fact that in the last twenty four hours Felix has defended me on national television, rescued me from the pitfalls of automobile hell, apparently, had my car fixed, and successfully delivered us all home in one piece without getting a fucking ticket, which is still a damn miracle.
The man must have been a race car driver in a previous life.
I watch as Felix strums away on my last project, a refurb of a Fender from ‘86.
The lime green color stands out against the hot pink and black, and it looks strangely fitting for him.
Maybe it’s because I’m tired and this day has been hell, but I can’t help the words that fall out of my mouth as I watch him play.
“It suits you,” I utter, pulling his attention.
He looks up from his strumming, bright blue eyes catching mine, pouty lips opening just the slightest as he jiggles his lip ring.
“You think so?” he asks, and the question isn’t sarcastic.
His fingers move over the strings lightly, black nail polish catching in the light. The sound is soothing.
I smile and nod.
“Yeah, really. You can, uh... you can keep it if you want,” I say awkwardly. “I’ve got a whole bunch of refurbs in my shed.”
Felix smiles, nodding in agreement. “Cool, thanks.”
The oven beeps and I waste no time pulling out the buffalo chicken dip.
Marci’s recipe is the best and definitely is a crowd pleaser.
I set it down on the counter as Felix absentmindedly keeps playing, though the music isn’t from his set list.
In fact, it is something I’ve never heard before. It’s softer, more melodic. Like a power ballad.
Letting the dip cool, I take my time, walking over to him.
“You’ve got a whole bunch in your shed?” he repeats the words as I take my seat next to him on the couch, pulling the guitar from his hands. My fingertips brush against his knuckles and he shifts his weight to make room for me, even though the couch is more than big enough to accommodate the both of us without issue.
“Started as a hobby, but kind of became more.”
I angle the instrument between my legs, strumming on it myself, trying to play the melody he just played.
I don’t need to look at him to feel the heat of his gaze on me, and so, I focus on the tangible string between my fingers, and not my excited cock, or my racing heart.
I focus on the music.
“I didn’t know you played guitar, too,” he says dreamily. His accent slips through, and the sound is like silk.
I shrug as I strum out a few notes that I think accent his impromptu melody nicely. His thigh brushes against mine as he gets comfortable on the couch, next to me, leaning his arm against the back cushion, his head resting against his tattooed knuckles.
I steal a glance from underneath my lashes, noting his focus on me is intense.
Fuck, why is it so God damn hot in here?
I chuckle with my own sarcasm. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Felix.”
I half expect him to bite back at me with some snippy comment about my age like he usually does, but to my surprise, he doesn’t say anything bitter or sarcastic.
The faint edge of his accent slips through his words as he says, “I want to.”
Something about his words exude a vulnerability, a depth that feels monumental.
I stop playing, looking up at him. His bright blue eyes glisten, the setting sun shining through the window casting shadows on the planes of his face, illuminating his bone structure.
In the golden light, in my living room, he’s some perfect mix of masculine and angelic, his tongue jiggling his lip ring as he bites his lip.
“Felix...”
“I get that I’m a pain in your ass. I have been since the moment you threw me over your shoulder and tossed my ass in Lou’s car.” He punctuates the sentence with a laugh.
“I thought... I thought you were just some has been drummer who found God or something and just peaced the fuck out of music. Sully was always going on about how Hollow Pointe needed to get back together for a reunion tour, but he didn’t think you’d ever agree to it.”
I set the guitar down, my shoulders tightening as I prepare to defend my stance, myself.
Isaax had brought it up once, but at the time, Marci was going through chemo.
She begged me to accept his offer, but there was no way I was leaving her and Bobby, not then.
They were my world for so long, I forgot about the world of glitz and glamor.
Felix shifts in his spot, fidgeting, almost as if he is nervous.
But what the hell would Felix have to be nervous about?
“But the more I’m around you, it’s... refreshing. I keep discovering things about you, and I want to know more. I want to know fucking everything.”
His voice is barely a whisper, and it is a balm to my soul.
I lean closer, capturing his gaze.
“There’s not much to know, I’m afraid,” I utter softly, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m not as complex as you. My life... it’s simple, really. Boring.”
Felix leans closer, his knee slipping into the space between my legs. Some golden hair falls in his bright eyes and he bites his lip, jiggling his lip ring again.
I’m convinced it’s a nervous tick, and I have to say it’s kind of endearing. It reminds me of how Marci used to bite her lip when she was being flirty.
Even spoiled, pain in the ass Felix has quirks.
“You left the business and built your own paradise, Duncan. That’s not boring. It’s fucking brave as hell.”
My throat tightens, my heartbeat thudding so loudly in my chest I think he can hear it.
“Even paradise can be lost , Felix.” The words are faint, almost dying in the air as I speak them.
I did have it all, but then cancer took it all away from me. From Bobby and I.
And until this moment, I hadn’t really felt that loss.
Make no mistake, I did feel grief. Anger, pain.
But under Felix’s deep blue gaze, I realize that what I miss the most is something much deeper than all of that.
Connection.
I miss that undeniable understanding, the inside jokes.
The love.
Felix leans in closer, until his face is mere inches away from mine, and somewhere in my brain I know alarm bells should be going off.
But there are none.
Not with Felix Hart.
For the first time in a long time, I feel connected .
I close my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing, of the magnitude of feeling running through me from this damn awful day.
Felix whispers, his breath shaky and tinged with realness that begs for acceptance. “My mama always said if something’s lost, that means it can be found again.”
Then I feel it.
The combination of steel and silk brushing against my lips.
A shiver runs down my spine as Felix’s lips quiver against mine, almost as if he is afraid.
Consciously, I know I should push him away.
But I can’t.
My entire body responds to his question as I part my own lips, grabbing him by the neck. Felix melts against me like warm butter. My tongue brushes against his piercing, and his shaky breath makes my cock twitch.
I’m overrun with feeling, with sensations that are familiar, but that are new at the same time.
Memories flash in my brain of the woman I loved, and the man she loved.
Isaax.
I was never jealous of her feelings for him.
How could I be when I understood her attraction?
Because I felt it, too.
But I thought it was just the drugs, the alcohol.
But I know as Felix kisses me, both of us stone cold sober, that there is no denying I like this.
I’m hard as fucking marble and I can’t breathe.
I’m drowning in the Black Sea, and Felix Hart is my fucking rip tide.
I can’t let him pull me under.
I can’t.
I push him away, fighting to give in to the overwhelming desire to grab him, to crush my lips and my fucking cock against him.
“Duncan...” His voice is soft, pleading.
I can hear the pain in it, and I know I’m about to shatter him into a million pieces.
“I can’t do this, Felix,” I mutter, swallowing harshly. “I?—”
Felix reaches out, setting his hand on my neck, forcing me to look at him, and I can’t.
Felix is wrong, I’m not brave. Not by a long shot.
I’m a fucking coward and I always have been.
“I appreciate what you’ve done, but I think... I think you should go.”
I don’t miss the glimmer of sadness, of disappointment in his gaze, and I hate it.
I hate that I’m the reason for it.
How did this get so fucking complicated?
I expect him to argue. To cop an attitude and tell me no one tells him what to do, but to my surprise, he doesn’t fight or argue.
He drops his hand, adjusting his cock—which makes my own throb—and stands, gazing down at me.
His expression shifts, and the real Felix is replaced with someone else.
The Felix everyone else knows.
The reality of that makes me feel even worse.
“Fine. I’m sure Lex will have your car back soon enough. If there’s an issue, you can call Lou.”
“Felix...” I start, feeling the need to explain.
He turns his back on me as I get up, feeling like I want to chase him, but also that I need to let him go.
The truth that I don’t want to let him go is like a splash of cold water and terrifies me more than I want to admit.
“See you at rehearsal, McKay.”
And as I watch him leave, I curse myself and my damn cowardice.
Because I know, without a doubt, I’ve fucked everything up.
Apparently history can repeat itself.