Chapter 5
Felix
To say Felix was disheartened was an understatement.
He’d truly believed he was getting somewhere with Brett that night at the club, but it had turned into mush before it had the chance to grow into something awesome.
He’d taken a gamble and it hadn’t panned out, and since then, it’d been a sort of stalemate between them.
Felix didn’t want to say anything that might crack the fragile truce between them, but he also couldn’t stay quiet forever.
Dominic had done him a favour by helping out with the guarding.
Felix had already decided he was going to say something to Brett that night, and he’d asked Dominic to cover for them.
And then, when Brett had become entranced by the St Andrew’s Cross scene, he’d thought his chance had come.
Brett had been so close to saying yes, he was sure of it.
But Felix’s thoughtless words had caused him to retreat, and he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.
Brett was perfect in his eyes, and no one could make him think any differently. Not even the man himself.
Maybe he should enlist the help of Christian and Oscar. Maybe all the Sutcliffes. Maybe he could ask Andrew to make it a direct order. He scoffed. If only. He just wanted Brett to start thinking of what he wanted and not what was good for everyone else.
Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be Brett if he did that.
Felix focused on his job, which was checking that the CCTV cameras were working around St George’s chapel and along the route for the wedding procession. It was only a short distance but plenty of cameras to check and recheck over the next few days. He also had backup cameras upon backup cameras.
It wouldn’t take him that long, but the pain was having to keep checking.
There couldn’t be a single area that wasn’t covered by a camera.
One thing to be thankful for was that the tunnels were now closed.
They didn’t have to worry about surprise visits from that side of things, and if anyone attempted to reopen them, they’d be in for a surprise themselves.
No one was taking any chances with that again.
His only solace was his guilty pleasure: watching James Bond films. He had Goldfinger playing on the monitor next to him while he sorted the cameras—he was amazing at multitasking.
Everyone thought he hated the films, but he enjoyed them.
Not that he’d tell anyone that because it was his little secret.
He purposefully said he didn’t like them so he could argue with Brett.
He’d lost count of the number of arguments they’d had about one film or another, with Felix saying he didn’t see the attraction.
“I thought you didn’t like James Bond?”
Even though he hadn’t heard Brett enter the room, his voice never failed to make him melt.
“I don’t. No matter how many times you explain it, I still don’t get what M’s job is. I’m trying to figure it out.”
“How can you not get it? She oversees everything.”
“But she doesn’t do anything.”
“Not that you can see, but it’s all behind the scenes,” Brett continued, and Felix allowed himself a small smile of victory at the bite in his tone.
“Then, I ask again, what’s the point of her being in the film?
She doesn’t do anything,” he repeated. By god, he loved riling him up.
He paused and leaned closer to the camera feed, noticing something out of place.
“Oh, fucking hell! Why do people keep doing stupid shit?” He bit his nails, cursing again, and stood, pacing from his computer to the wall and back.
He’d spent so long sorting the cameras and then some dumb shit had gone and…
“What’s wrong?”
Brett’s voice broke through his internal musings, but he didn’t stop pacing, allowing his thoughts to organise themselves with every step he took.
“Four of the cameras I had set up have been obstructed now. I need to move them. It takes fucking forever—”
A hand on his nape stopped him in place, and Brett stepped in front of him, his hand remaining where it was.
Felix couldn’t look at him, though. Instead, he studied the buttons of his pristine shirt, light blue that day, and decided everything else could wait if he could just undo one or two of them and touch his undoubtedly warm skin.
“Breathe, Felix,” Brett ordered, and Felix inhaled shakily, having not realised he hadn’t been. “And again.”
Whenever Brett touched him, his brain quieted, and he did everything he was told.
The pressure on his nape had his eyes closing, and he swayed forward until his forehead touched Brett’s shoulder.
A long, slow exhale sounded in his ear, and despite the need to stay where he was, he needed something else more.
Slowly, he lifted his head, tilting towards Brett as he did.
His forehead brushed against Brett’s cheek and the corner of his mouth until Felix raised his chin slightly to meet his boss’s gaze.
The fire from the night at the club blazed in his eyes, and Felix licked his lips.
Brett’s gaze dropped, and his throat bobbed.
“Felix…” he murmured.
Felix itched to touch him, but he hadn’t been given permission. Instead, he inched closer as if to kiss him, and the hand on his nape tightened, holding him still when they were millimetres apart. He couldn’t do it. It had to be Brett’s choice.
Air coasted across his lips. “Felix…”
The door opened, and Brett stepped back immediately.
Felix turned the air blue and stormed out of the room.
The guards were used to him leaving without a word, but this time, he had no choice.
His trousers were too tight to leave anything to the imagination, and so he strode through the hallways until he reached fresh air.
He crouched in the car park, breathing in and out until he had himself under control and then continued on his way to Book Drunk.
It was his favourite place, and the quality of the drinks was the cherry on top.
The bell tinkled as he entered, and he waved at Oscar, who immediately started making a drink upon seeing him. Every staff member was wonderful and needed a raise, as far as he was concerned.
Oscar put a drink in front of him. “Here. It looks like you needed this.”
Another guilty pleasure: hot chocolate. That, coffee and water were pretty much all he drank.
“Thanks. I truly did.”
“No friends today?”
Felix shook his head as he took another sip. “No. They’re busy. As I should be, but I needed a breather.”
“Everyone needs a break now and then.”
He stared at his drink and sighed. “And don’t I know it.” He pushed aside his melancholy and smiled up at his protectee. “I miss seeing you as often as I did.”
Oscar beamed. “I miss you, too. We had some wonderful conversations. I understand, though. You have other aspects of your job that need your attention. I can’t have it all.” He chuckled.
“If only I could be your guard and your guard only.”
Oscar frowned at him, leaning down and moving closer. “You could request it, you know. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem. Not that I’m being selfish in that, but you could.”
Felix nodded. “I could, but until they have someone else who can do what needs to be done, I’m it.”
“Just remember, Felix, you’re only one person. Don’t live to work. Work so you can live.”
And wasn’t that a problem because the person he wanted to live for was where he worked. “Thanks, Oscar. I’ll try.” He took another sip. “Could I have another one and a coffee to go, please?”
“Sure.”
He finished the drink slowly, dragging out the going back to work—going back to what he’d left.
In the end, though, he had a job to do. Waving at Oscar and Hilary, he headed back across the road, entering through the guards’ gates, and strode through the hallways as if nothing was amiss.
He took a deep breath and entered the room, aiming for Brett, who was at his desk as usual, and placed the drink beside him before heading to his computer.
James Bond had been paused, and as he sat, he remembered why he’d been worked up to begin with.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, biting his nails, though he barely had any left.
“Felix, Nick and Maddox are free to help you with the camera issue if you need them to,” Brett said, his voice neutral.
Felix gritted his teeth against the urge to scream at him and nodded. “Thanks. I think I will need them.”
Silence descended, but then he heard footsteps. They stopped beside him at the same time a shadow fell over him.
“Are we okay?” Brett asked, his voice low.
Felix gave himself a second. “Peachy.”
“Felix…”
“Don’t say my name like that if you’re not going to do anything about it,” he growled.
He kept his voice low, too, not wanting to cause a scene.
“Because this happens.” He spun his chair to the side slightly and showed the tent in his trousers.
He turned back to the monitor. “I need to get this done.” He ignored the way his ass clenched around the plug he had started wearing for a few hours a day to keep himself prepared in case of miracles.
Brett’s footsteps did all the talking when he walked away. Felix could withstand a lot of things, but Brett might just be the one to break him.
****
By the time Christian and Oscar’s wedding arrived, all the guards were on tenterhooks.
Nothing was amiss anywhere, but that didn’t stop them from expecting issues.
The camera problem had been resolved, and as far as Felix could tell, everything was in place.
He’d checked a couple of dozen times, so he should know.