Chapter Eight
Jacob
Felix’s arrival this morning bearing both the nectar of the Gods—coffee—and a pile of donuts, had me thinking all kinds of thoughts about him.
Not sexual, of course, but of stuff like how generous he was.
How he always thought of others.
How, to the best of my knowledge, he’d never made a move on my sister.
After our impromptu snacks, Felix tackled painting the master bedroom while Darah fixed the wiring in the kitchen, Agatha fixed the plumbing in the downstairs bathroom, Curtis did the drywall in the laundry room, and the rest of my crew—including myself—tackled the flooring for the upstairs.
We stopped for lunch, discussed appliances and whether the Vancouver Canucks had any possible chance of making the Stanley Cup next season, and then we got back to work.
In the afternoon, Gina worked with the HVAC guy to install everything needed so the house would have air conditioning with the heat pump.
Seventy-some-odd years ago, when it’d been built, that hadn’t been a thing.
Today? With climate change? British Columbia often baked during the summer.
Even the northern parts were seeing hotter days.
Down here, near Vancouver, there had been many temperature records broken over the past few summers.
Scientists weren’t predicting we’d get cooler, or even go back to normal, so Felix needed his house to have air conditioning.
And tomorrow we had a guy drilling a three-hundred-and-fifty-foot well in the back yard.
The current one was too shallow and often ran dry in the hottest summer months.
And Josie.
How could I forget my sister and her impossibly long showers? We were also installing hot water on demand so they’d never run out.
“Hey, boss, it’s quitting time.”
I glanced up from where I’d been laying the laminate floor to find Niall, Curtis, Agatha, Kris, and Gina all staring at me from the bedroom door. I surveyed the room, ensuring I hadn’t somehow screwed up. I hadn’t. “Yeah, sure. Thanks for today.”
“Felix got the master bedroom painted. Looks pretty good.” Gina yanked on her ponytail.
“He should be able to do this room tomorrow.”
“Wouldn’t it have been better to get him to paint before you put the flooring down?” Curtis snickered.
“Possibly.” More like probably, but we were plowing through this reno with breakneck speed. “Thanks. We’ll see you later.”
Kris saluted, then led my crew down the stairs. That was a job for tomorrow as well.
I rose, removed my kneepads, and went in search of Felix.
As predicted, the bedroom was done, and the soft, muted gray looked amazing.
Felix sat in the center of the room, flipping through Josie’s design book.
“Hey, what’s up?”
He glanced up at me. “I don’t know. Something feels…off.”
Feeling awkward as hell, I decided to sit across from him. “Talk to me.”
After a moment, he flipped to a page near the back, and spun the book to face me. I frowned. “I don’t get it.” An arch of flowers was backdropped by a forest. In the foreground, what was clearly a minister, and a groom stood. “Okay, so this is how she envisions her wedding.”
“Okay, but wouldn’t you think, I don’t know, that the bride would be in the picture?”
“Well, you’d think. But isn’t there some superstition about the groom seeing the dress before the wedding?”
Felix snickered. “You see Josette as a traditionalist?”
I cocked my head. “In some respects, yes. Like I believe she believes in ‘til death do us part.” I rubbed my nose, a little itchy from the plaster dust. “I think she’ll make a brilliant wife. Just like I think you’ll make a great husband.”
Another snicker.
Annoyance rose within me and my chest tightened. “You don’t think you’ll make a great husband? You’re kind, compassionate, and caring. You defend the weak and stand up to bullies. You protect those around you. Finally, you’ve seen the darker side of life, and yet you still have a positive attitude. It takes courage to keep going after a tragedy—”
Felix closed the book, moved it to the side, turned back to me…and lunged.
I caught him, because he was a lightweight, but momentum had us crashing to the ground. I didn’t hit my head, but that was sheer luck. Before I could ask what was going on, Felix’s mouth descended on mine. I could’ve stopped him, of course. Could’ve made a joke. Or even forcefully pushed him off. I didn’t, of course.
Because I wanted him apparently as much as he wanted me. I opened my mouth to welcome his tongue. He grasped my hair in his fists while I adjusted our bodies so they aligned. So I could feel his hard cock pressing against my own burgeoning erection. Okay, so at least I knew he could get it up. I’d sort of started to worry because he never appeared physical with Josie. As he continued to tug my hair and frot against me, I had no doubts left. I grabbed his perfect ass to hold him in place as I canted my hips so I could push up against him.
He pulled away, but only enough so he could meet my gaze. “Please, I need…”
I waited, but he didn’t finish the sentence. Which was, for me, the deciding factor. If he couldn’t articulate what he wanted, I certainly wasn’t going to try to give him something that might not be what he intended. Very slowly, I eased him off me.
He made a sound low in his throat.
A moan? A whine? A whimper? Although I was uncertain, I wasn’t going to seek clarity either. This is so very wrong. I pushed him off me. Maybe with a touch more strength than I should have as he plopped onto the floor.
This time, he didn’t make a sound.
I rose, standing over him and pointing. "You're gay, and you're going to marry my sister anyway? You're going to break her heart." The words lanced through me. I’d do anything to shield my sister. She drove me nuts and brought out every protective instinct within me. Usually at the same time.
Felix scrambled to his feet. "No. But she's planned our life out for twenty years. If I don't go through with the wedding, that will break her heart. And what about our moms? What are they going to feel? I will just marry Josette and pretend everything is fine. We'll have kids, and she'll be happy, and so will I."
Anger roiled through me. Against my better judgment, I stepped into Felix’s space. Without warning, I snagged his erect cock and squeezed.
None too gently.
He whimpered.
I gazed into his dark eyes. “You ever get hard like this for my sister? You ever want to take her to bed and ravish her? Or, fucking hell, even just make sweet love to her? Hell, Felix, have you ever kissed her?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The answer was written right across his features. No, he hadn’t done any of those things. Nor had he ever felt the urge to. That was plain as day.
I removed my hand from his cock.
He pressed a hand to his chest. “I want to love her. Hell, I do love her. Just…not in that way. I’ve never…” His cheeks flushed scarlet.
Oh for fuck’s sake. “You’ve never gotten hard for anyone, have you?”
The shaking of his head was accompanied by a purely miserable expression of pain. He blinked repeatedly.
“And it just had to be me.” Said more to myself, yet he nodded. I sighed. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing.” He held out his hands as if trying to placate me.
It wasn’t working.
“I’m going to marry Josette. We’re going to build a life here. We’re going to raise a family and grow old. Our mothers will visit all the time and be happy grandmothers. They’ll forget about the pain of their childhoods because we’ll make them so happy.”
“And how, precisely, do you intend to get Josie pregnant if you can’t even get it up for her?” I’d thought his coloring couldn’t go more scarlet. I’d been wrong. Puce was apparently a thing.
“Uh…”
I waved my hand impatiently.
“Like…drugs…”
I arched an eyebrow. “You’re twenty-five years old, and you’re going to ask Dr. Raymond for boner drugs?” Our doctor was in his mid-forties and, although pretty progressive, would likely struggle with this one. You need to stop this. And yet, I wouldn’t. Far more people would be hurt if Josie and Felix didn’t go through with the marriage. Both took their vows seriously. They’d make a family. Somehow. And that wasn’t any of my business. “Well, I’ll be back tomorrow to finish off the flooring in the spare room.”
“I was going to paint it tonight.”
Offer to help. “Yeah, great. Well, see you later.” Before I did something stupid—like offering to show him how things should really be between two people who were attracted to each other, I bolted.
An hour later, as Wally and I battled for supremacy in ball hockey on the street, I knew I’d made the wrong choice.
“Jesus, Fogal, get your head out of your ass and play properly. You’re unfocused.” He leaned on his stick. “Or does some girl have your attention?” He tapped the ball on both sides, never letting it roll away.
“Uh…”
“Oh, like that is it?”
“Well…”
Wally eyed me. “Okay, it’s a guy, isn’t it? You’re always more intense when you’re seeing a guy. Which, as you know, is so not my thing. But each to his own. If you want to have some guy stick his dick up—”
I cleared my throat.
“Right, or you stick your dick—”
I coughed.
Finally, Wally glanced behind himself. He waved. “Hey, Ma, how’s it going?”
Christie waved back. “You boys want some lemonade?”
Since I lived in a condo and Wally lived in a townhouse, we had to come to his mom’s place when we wanted to play hockey on the streets. Somehow, playing in the schoolyard didn’t feel the same. Quintessentially Canadian meant playing in the road and dragging the net to the side when a car drove by. Christie lived on a cul-de-sac, so we hardly encountered any cars.
“Only if it’s got vodka,” Wally shot back. “Jacob’s got girl troubles.” He grinned. “Oh, sorry, boy troubles.”
I advanced on him and without warning, bodychecked him. Then I got the ball and shot it into the net. Finally, I glanced up to meet Christie’s gaze. “Not this time, Mrs. Stevenson, but thank you. I need to be getting home. Early up, you know?”
“Your mom says you’re doing a great job on the renovation, that’s very kind of you.”
Instead of responding, I merely nodded, then grabbed one of the nets.
Wally sighed and grabbed the other.
Only when I lay in my bed that night, did I admit the truth.
I wanted Felix.
Had for years and years. When he’d hit puberty, late, I’d finally noticed him in that way. But I’d shelved those thoughts. He was my best friend’s younger brother. He was practically engaged to my sister, although they were just fourteen at the time.
Years of suppressing those desires hadn’t yielded any great results. I’d dated any number of men and women. But none had ever been right. Now I knew why.
None had ever been Felix.
His sexual aggression today had come out of left field. We’d been talking about the fact Josie’s wedding picture didn’t show the bride, and the next thing I knew, he’d been on top of me. And it’d felt so fucking good. In fact, I probably could’ve taken him right there and then. With little to no persuading necessary on my part. For all my bravado when I talked to Wally, I took sex seriously. Aside from keeping a packet of lube and a condom in my wallet, I also didn’t fuck just anyone. I might not be overly picky, but I also rarely did it on the first date. I liked getting to know a person—their quirks, their interests, their dreams.
You know all that about Felix.
Goddamnit, that was so fucking true. In fact, before today, I’d have said I knew Felix as well as I knew Wally or Josie. He was an open book. I had the answer key.
Or so I’d thought. Now, though, I knew nothing.
And that scared the shit out of me.
Because, here in the dark, I could admit what I’d suppressed for years.
I was in love with Felix.