Chapter 26
Tessa
Iwas freaking out. Felix wanted to get me pregnant.
The words had replayed in my head a hundred times since he’d said them, low and rough against my skin, like a promise and a threat all at once. My body still buzzed from the way he’d touched me, claimed me, but my mind couldn’t catch up. Pregnant. He wanted me carrying his child.
It should have terrified me. It did terrify me.
But under the fear, tangled deep in a place I didn’t want to admit existed, was something else—something warm and intoxicating.
The way he’d said it, the way he’d held me afterward as though he’d never let me go…
it made my heart race in a way that had nothing to do with panic.
But wasn’t it, like, super hard to get pregnant?
I wasn’t even sure. I had missed the entirety of sex ed in school because my father never bothered to take me.
He’d been too busy passed out drunk on the couch or screaming at the television to notice whether or not his daughter was getting a basic education.
So now here I was, sitting on the sofa with my heart pounding out of my chest, trying to piece together what I had overheard at work and seen on television.
Didn’t you have to track your cycle or something?
Or was that just if you didn’t want to get pregnant?
Maybe it only happened sometimes. God, I didn’t know.
I thought about all those jokes the girls at work used to make in the kitchen, about missed periods and false alarms, and I remembered laughing along like I understood.
But the truth was, I didn’t. I hadn’t been paying attention—because back then, the idea of anyone actually wanting me like that had seemed impossible.
And now Felix did. He wanted me like that. He wanted all of me, enough to say something so raw, so final. Pregnant. Mine. The word kept circling back, twisting itself into my stomach until I didn’t know if I was scared or something else.
Felix came home later that evening, his usual dangerous scowl in place, the kind that made people step back without a word. But the scowl on his face tonight reminded me exactly why I was drawn to him despite myself. Dangerous, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore.
“How was your day?” I asked, even though I knew he wouldn’t give me the full story.
It probably involved embezzlement, intimidation, and murder, so I was certain he’d keep me blissfully ignorant.
“It was fine.” His voice was gruff, but softened slightly for me. “Yours?”
“The same as usual,” I said, gesturing around the house.
“No new clues?”
I shook my head, trying not to let my disappointment show. “No. Everything’s still a dead end.”
His gaze lingered on me a little too long, like he could see through the calm I was trying to project. My stomach twisted under the weight of it. He always had this way of making me feel like I was laid bare in front of him, like even my secrets weren’t safe.
“I know you’ll figure it out,” he said. “For now, let’s go get groceries. We’re running low.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were at the grocery store down the street.
Felix had grabbed a cart and was leisurely pushing it down the aisle, and would stop when I grabbed things to put them in the cart.
Every time the item was on the top shelf and I couldn’t reach it, he would reach over without complaint and grab it for me.
The strange domesticity of it all felt almost disarming, as though this dangerous man was perfectly at ease under the fluorescent lights and soft hum of the freezers.
“Tell me something about you I don’t know,” I said, watching the way his hand lingered on the shelf before he dropped a box of cereal into the cart.
His mouth curved, just barely, like I’d asked a question he wasn’t sure I deserved the answer to.
For a moment, the only sound was the squeak of the cart’s wheel and the low buzz of a nearby cooler.
Then he looked at me, dark eyes unreadable.
Felix’s mouth tugged into the ghost of a smirk. “That’s a dangerous request. What if the truth makes you run screaming out of this store?”
I arched a brow at him. “I’ll risk it.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating in his chest as he leaned one arm casually against the cart handle. “Actually, I’m afraid it’s so embarrassing that I might run screaming out of the store.”
“Well, now I definitely need to know,” I said, nudging him in the side with my elbow.
“I get carsick.”
I stopped mid-step, blinking at him. “You’re kidding.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, but his eyes told me he wasn’t. “Dead serious. Boats, planes, no problem. But stick me in the backseat of a car and within five minutes I’m a goner.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of me. “Felix, the terrifying man everyone’s afraid of… and your weakness is road trips?”
His smirk sharpened as he leaned closer, voice dropping just enough for only me to hear. “Go ahead, laugh it up. But if you ever tell anyone—” his eyes glinted with mock warning “—you’ll be just as scared of me as they are.”
“Tch. I haven’t been afraid of you for months,” I said, reaching for a small jar of coriander. “You’re not that scary.”
Felix’s brow lifted, his expression unreadable as he stepped closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat of him at my side. He plucked the jar from my hand slowly, deliberately, and set it in the cart without looking away.
“Not that scary,” he echoed, his voice low, almost amused. Then he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed my ear. “Sweetheart, the day you stop being just a little afraid of me is the day you should really start worrying.”
I tilted my chin toward him, refusing to step back. “Then I guess you’ll have to work harder. I don’t scare easy.”
His smirk curved dangerous and slow, as though my defiance was exactly what he’d wanted. He let the silence stretch for a beat, then straightened just enough to study me with that piercing gaze.
“Alright then,” he said, his voice still edged with amusement. “Your turn. Tell me something about you I don’t know.”
The way he asked it wasn’t casual—it was deliberate, as if he wanted to peel back another layer I hadn’t meant to show.
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I have a ridiculous fear of escalators.” My tone was light, but I caught the flicker of curiosity in his eyes. “Not heights, not falling. Just… escalators. Always have to grab the handrail.”
“Escalators? Why is that?” he asked.
“I saw a video of one breaking. It started to speed up and everyone was bottlenecked at the bottom,” I shuddered, hugging myself slightly. “And the people at the very front got partially sucked in.”
Felix’s eyes darkened, and that low, amused chuckle escaped him again. “You’re telling me this… and you’re still pretending to be fearless?”
“I can be fearless in other ways,” I shot back, smirking despite the tremor in my voice.
“Oh, I have no doubt.” Felix pulled out his phone, looked at the time, and frowned. “It’s getting too late for you to make dinner. I’m going to pick up some Thai food from the restaurant next door.”
He dug into his wallet and handed me cash—far more than enough for groceries. I blinked at it, the weight of his gesture making my chest tighten.
“Check out and I’ll meet you by the car.”
And then, he left. No words of “you know what happens if you run, right?” No teasing threat.
Just trust. Or something like it. I stood there for a moment, staring after him, a strange mix of relief and unease curling in my stomach.
The grocery store felt impossibly bright and quiet without him, and I realized I was holding my breath.
Shaking my head, I grabbed the last few items we needed, forcing myself to move. I caught myself glancing toward the entrance, half-expecting to see him watching me like it was some sort of test. But he wasn’t there. He had left me to do this on my own.
I grabbed the last items, paid quickly, and pushed the cart toward the automatic doors, my eyes scanning for him the whole way.
The parking lot was bathed in the harsh glow of the streetlights, and there he was, leaning casually against the car, Thai food in hand, smirk in place.
My chest tightened as I approached, a mix of relief and something sharper swirling through me, and for a brief second, the normal world felt far away, leaving just him, the car, and the unspoken tension between us.
“Um… here’s your change,” I said, not knowing what to say.
“I don’t need it,” he responded, loading the groceries in the trunk.
I bit my lip as the thought flickered through my mind: I have nowhere to spend it. It wasn’t like there was a mall inside the brownstone. But I didn’t voice it, letting the moment pass as he worked, his focus elsewhere.
“Let’s go home,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a promise.
I nodded, words caught somewhere between my chest and my throat, and got into the car.
The engine hummed to life, but the quiet between us wasn’t empty; it buzzed with unspoken tension, the kind that made my pulse thrum in my ears.
As we pulled out of the parking lot, he reached over, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. My breath hitched.
Then, without warning, his hand lingered, his eyes locking onto mine with that dangerous, magnetic intensity.
And before I could think, before I could even protest, his lips found mine.
The kiss was soft at first, teasing, and then firmer, claiming.
My hands lifted instinctively, pressing against his chest, and the world narrowed until it was just us, the car, and the quiet heat of the moment.
When he finally pulled back, just slightly, his smirk returned, and my chest heaved. “Hm,” he said, voice low and intimate. “Maybe I’m not so scary.”
I could only blink at him, caught somewhere between exasperation, disbelief, and something far more dangerous: desire.