Chapter 5
Felix
T here was this moment when I first woke up where I took stock. Not in the way that I used to, back when the injuries were new, and I was angry I’d woken up at all. Time and therapy had helped with those feelings. But in the way that I had to figure out if the previous night’s sleep had fucked my body up and it was going to be a bad day on the pain scale.
I blew out a breath when I realized I was at baseline, achy and in discomfort, always aware and a bit painful, but not wanting to cry. I sat up slowly then just rested there for a moment, legs dangling over the edge, and letting the tingles wash through me. When I was confident I could stand, I forced myself upward. It took a moment or two to steady myself and then I shuffled into the attached bath. I didn’t even need my cane this morning.
At least not at the moment.
The bathroom was a stark reminder of all the accommodations I needed and there were times when it rankled deep. From the shower chair to the grab bars next to the toilet to the lowered sink without a cabinet underneath for the days I had to be in my chair, every bit of it reminded me of my limitations. I hated it and was appreciative of it in equal measure. I no longer wished for death, and I was mostly glad I was still here, but that didn’t mean that the constant pain and the need for aids didn’t piss me off sometimes.
Ma opened the store because it always took me longer in the mornings to get moving. To be fair, I’d never been much of a morning person to begin with. In college, I’d scheduled all my classes as late as possible and after I’d proved myself at Crenshaw and Lowe, I’d managed to push back my start time, and worked late into the evening, just so I didn’t have to get out of bed too early.
Now though, it was more of a routine. A reluctant one, but it did take me longer to get moving and ready to face the day. Before I wrestled myself into the shower, I needed to take the time to do my stretches and a light weight routine. I resented that too, that it was necessary, that even though I was weight-bearing and able to walk most days, it wasn’t enough to keep my legs from atrophying more. So the exercises had to happen, especially when I didn’t feel like it or when it hurt.
There was a lot about my life I resented, even on good days. The days I was content with my life and whatever counted as happy now. But there were things I didn’t mind at all about my current state. Like hiring someone else to do the cleaning.
It wasn’t easy for me to scrub the kitchen or bathroom, mopping was even harder, and technically I could run the vacuum if I was very careful. But those particular chores had always been the bane of my existence. I liked things clean, I just didn’t want to do it. When I’d lived in New York City, I’d justified the cleaning service because of the long hours I worked. Now I had an even better, and more permanent, excuse.
I’d finished my work-out, showered and changed, and was finally enjoying my first cup of coffee at the kitchen table when I heard the telltale sound of keys in the deadbolt. I didn’t bother getting up, there was no need, and a few moments later the door swung open.
“It’s just me, Mr. Felix!” Delia called out, her voice chipper. I’d tried a dozen times to get her to just call me by my name. Every time, she agreed with a nod and smile, and kept adding the Mr. I’d given up.
“Good morning, Delia,” I returned, waiting for her to appear around the doorjamb. Today her braids were gathered on top of her head in a bright pink scrunchie that matched her uniform shirt, carrying her overfilled caddy of cleaning supplies.
“How are you today, sir?” Delia set the caddy down and leaned a slim hip against the counter. The “sir” was another unnecessary honorific, but she was young and had spent her formative years in the South. She’d only ventured north a few years ago with her family, when her father took a position teaching at SUNY Plattsburgh. Instead of heading off to college herself two years ago, she’d started her own business, Delia’s Dailies, and now had five employees. I’d been one of her first customers after the previous company I used flaked on me one too many times.
“I’m all right,” I answered. It was the same answer I always gave her. Some days, like today, it was the truth. Others, well, it was the more polite response. “How about yourself?”
Her brown eyes lit up, and a wide smile graced her lips. “Let me put it this way, I might have to hire another person soon.”
I chuckled. “Glad to hear it. And as always, if you want to use me as a reference, I’m happy to sing your praises.”
“I appreciate it. I’m updating the website now, well Jakeisha is,” she said, mentioning her sister, “but once it’s done, I’d love for you to leave a customer testimonial.”
I loved that she wasn’t shy about asking. She might be young, but she was confident in herself, her company, and her abilities. I nodded.
“Text me the link when it’s ready, and I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.” She pushed off from the counter, straightening. “I’ll start in the back.”
“Sure. I’ll be gone as soon as I finish my coffee.”
Delia gave me a salute, picked up her supplies, and headed toward my bedroom and bathroom. I watched her go, thinking about Oak. Delia reminded me of him. Not just because of their similar ages and sunny dispositions, but because of their chosen professions. I couldn’t imagine Oak wanting to leave the Black Dog Inn and join Delia’s team, but I wondered if he’d be interested in starting his own cleaning business. He liked the work—I knew that from our many conversations—and I knew he was at a bit of a crossroads where his future was concerned. At least his professional future; his personal one was secure.
As I finished my coffee, I contemplated dropping the suggestion in his ear, thinking about ways to do so subtly. Of course, I had to be loyal to Delia, so he wouldn’t get me as a customer, but I knew there’d be no shortage of business.
A worry for another time. I put my now empty mug in the dishwasher, called out a goodbye to Delia, though I didn’t expect a response knowing she would have her earbuds in, and headed outside. It was early for me to get to the Nook, but I could hide in the back office and handle paperwork. Delia and I both preferred it when I wasn’t in her way while she worked.
S ince it was the middle of the week, the Nook had been pretty dead all day. Summer was just kicking into gear, so tourist season wasn’t quite in full swing. Schools let out in a couple of weeks, and it was usually around the Fourth that we really saw an uptick in tourists. I liked making sales, but I liked it just as much, or even better, when it was quiet.
Since I hadn’t seen a customer since I walked in this morning, the jangle of the bell over the door immediately had me glancing up. My customer service smile fell off my face as soon as I saw who it was. Because it wasn’t an antique hunter or a treasure seeker. No, I couldn’t be that lucky. It was a blond, Viking-looking golden retriever and his shorter, sunshiny sidekick.
I scowled. “Stop with the creepy grins.”
Teague made his grin even creepier, widening his smile as far as he was capable. Oak, on the other hand, gasped and clutched at his non-existent pearls. “How dare you! We brought presents!”
I recognized the box in Teague’s hands, and I made a grab for it as soon as he was close enough. He snorted out a laugh but I ignored him. Despite that Sugar Rush was basically right across the street, I didn’t partake of Regan’s confections nearly often enough. I expected eclairs, my favorite treat that was on the regular menu, and there were a couple in the box. But there were also Gargoyle Wings, so I knew they were here with a nefarious purpose. That was the only reason for a bribe.
Then I noticed Regan’s hastily scribbled message on the inside of the top of the box.
Don’t let them badger you .
Christ on a cracker. I squinted at Teague, who gave me his very best innocent look. My squint turned into a scowl.
“What do you want?”
Teague blinked his big eyes. “Whatever do you mean?”
I flipped the top outward so he could see the message. “Your sibling ratted you out.”
“Aunt Regan’s a narc,” Oak muttered. But he must have been taking lessons from Teague, because the smile he gave me was all innocence and light. “We’re just checking in on you.”
I snatched up a cupcake. Just because it was bribery baked goods didn’t mean I wasn’t going to enjoy them. “Try again.”
“You see,” Oak started, leaning against the counter and folding his hands under his chin. “We just happened to notice that maybe, perhaps, there’s a bit of tension between you and Marlie’s teacher. And that it’s possible, by chance, that you might have a history of some sort with the very tall, very tatted, very jovial—”
“Spill, Lex. We want the deets. What’s going on with you and Huntley?”
Oak shot his uncle a horrified look. “Who even says ‘deets’?”
“Get off my lawn!” Teague shouted, affecting a very old, wheezy voice. Oak cracked up.
“Christ, knock it off you two.” I peeled the liner off the cupcake, broke off the bottom, and placed it on top so I had a frosting sandwich. It was a disservice to this particular cupcake but since I was at work, I needed to keep it more contained. “Oak, you get to the point.”
Oak didn’t hesitate. “Spill the tea, Felix. How do you know the delicious Mr. Huntley?”
It was Teague’s turn to look horrified. “That’s gross. Also you have a man.”
We both ignored his muttering. Oak kept his gaze on me, eyes alight with curiosity. I hated to shoot it down. Well, not that much. “No.”
Oak’s face fell into a pout. “Come on! We’re your besties! You have to tell us.”
I had to do no such thing. But before I could say as much, Teague leaned forward, bracing an elbow on the checkout counter. He gave me his real smile, the earnest one, the one that got people of all sorts to trust him. And rightfully so.
“Come on,” Teague said, all teasing gone from his voice. “It’s clearly a thing. And other than us, who have you got to tell, eh?”
Fuck. He was right. And it was a thing because I kept making it a thing. Maybe if I just admitted to it, it’d be easier to let it go. I sighed heavily and sat on the barstool, taking a second to adjust.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said, lying through my teeth. “We hooked up when we both lived in the city. It was a long time ago.”
“I think there’s more to the story there, Lex.” Teague’s voice was soft and understanding. Which I both appreciated and loathed in equal measure. I shook my head.
Oak nudged the pastry box closer to me. “Have some sugar and tell us the rest.”
I knew they weren’t going to let it go. They weren’t usually so stubborn. At least not Teague. But with his sidekick backing him up, it was clear they dug in their heels. I could have refused, sent them away, and eventually, they would have gone. But they were both right. They were my friends. And I shouldn’t be an asshole just because it was a touchy subject.
“Fine. Kellan and I met at a bar, I took him home, we spent a hot weekend together, I got hurt and ghosted him, and then he showed up here to take a job at the school, supposedly not remembering this was my hometown. That’s it. That’s the end.”
Oak hummed. “Do you know you say his name like he means something?”
The fuck? “What?”
Oak waved that off. “It’s really romantic. Two lovers, torn apart by tragedy, brought back together by fate.”
I squinted at him. “Are you high?” I turned wide eyes to Teague. “Have you been letting your innocent nephew do drugs?”
Teague just laughed. Oak shot us both a scowl. “Don’t look at me like I’m nuts. And I’m not doing drugs. Think about it! It’s like a fairytale.”
I reached out and patted Oak’s arm. “I hope you never turn jaded, kid.”
He chicken-winged me off. “Don’t patronize me. You,” he pointed at me, “need to look at the positive. This is your second chance.”
“No.” I shut that down, my tone absolute.
But Teague cocked his head, reminding me of a puppy, and simply asked, “Why?”
“We’re different people now.”
Oak gave me a pointed look, his lips smirking just a touch at the corner. “Really? It was what, five years ago?” He looked to Teague for confirmation, and Teague scrunched his nose, thinking.
“About that, yeah.”
“Guys, look—”
“So you’re trying to tell me that in five years, you’ve both changed so much that you’re no longer compatible?” He snorted. “I don’t buy it. Not for a second.”
“ I’m different.”
And Oak, the sweetheart that he was, creased his brow and looked honest-to-God confused. “How?”
I stared at him in disbelief. Was he joking? Maybe he was messing with me. He couldn’t be that na?ve. I waited for a moment, and then a few more, for it to sink in, but he just really didn’t seem to get it.
Teague cleared his throat and said quietly, “I think he means his legs.”
Oak’s frown deepened for a second, then his expression cleared. “Pfft. Are you kidding me? That doesn’t matter and—”
“It does!” I was too loud but I couldn’t seem to regulate my voice. It was as if the cork had popped and I couldn’t stop the flow. “I can’t manhandle him like he likes. I can’t pin him down and rail him until he’s begging and screaming. I can’t hold him against the wall while I…shit. Never mind. Just let it go, all right? I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Felix,” Oak began, sounding wounded. I hated that I hurt his feelings but, at the same time, in that moment, I didn’t care. He was the one who poked at the sore spot.
“Just don’t, okay? Go buy something or whatever,” I grumbled, turning my attention to the computer screen, not at all seeing what was on it. After a moment or two, Oak slinked away toward the back of the shop, where all the retro furniture was. He had a penchant for the weird shit from the 70s.
Teague, however, didn’t move. He just stood there looming until the silence between us got oppressive.
“What?” I snapped. “You think I should apologize?”
“No. Sure you raised your voice, but you weren’t, like, being mean to him. You should give him a chance to apologize for pushing, though.”
Every once in a while, Teague saw the whole of a situation in a way no one else did. I thought I hurt Oak’s feelings, and maybe I had, but Teague wasn’t wrong either. Maybe we both owed each other an apology. I was about to acknowledge that but Teague spoke first.
“You know you’re more than just the way you fuck, right?”
“Sure.”
Teague snorted. “Liar. You should work on that. Look, I don’t know Kellan well, but he doesn’t strike me as the type to get hung up on that sort of shit. So if there’s lingering feelings….”
“There’s not. Let it go, T. You’re treading close to a line.”
He held up his hands and took several steps back. I eyed him and then decided he was giving up. For now at least.
“Eat another cupcake,” he said, turning toward the back of the store. “We’ll peruse. And make sure to stop back before we leave if we don’t find anything to buy.”
With that, he finally walked away. And all I could do was breathe for a few minutes.
Logically, I knew Teague was right. To a degree. But the fact was, I’d lost more than just the full use of my legs that day. So much of my identity had been wrapped up in hooking up and being a forceful top. Because I’d loved it. I’d loved every second of the control and the power that my partner let me have. And that was gone. I was physically incapable of doing any of that anymore.
Oak was wrong. This wasn’t some fairytale. There was no way I was getting a grand reunion with Kellan, because I couldn’t be what he wanted anymore. Of course, I’d also been a complete jerk to him for the past several years. Our chance was over.
Because of who, and how, I was now, I wasn’t in line for any sort of happily ever after.