Chapter Four #3
When she reached one shelf, her breath caught in her throat.
There, displayed in pristine condition, was a first edition of The Time Traveler's Wife. She reached out to gently run her hand across the cover, feeling a sense of reverence wash over her. She couldn’t believe it.
John’s collection wasn’t just impressive, it was legendary.
After an hour of exploring, she eventually found a novel that caught her eye, plucked it from the shelf, and made her way to the cozy reading nook.
Settling into one of the plush beanbag chairs, she curled up with the book and read.
It didn’t take long for her to lose herself in the pages, the outside world fading away as she became absorbed in the story.
The sunlight pouring through the windows shifted as the day wore on, but Felicity didn’t notice—she was completely entranced.
It wasn’t until she heard a soft knock on the doorframe that she realized how much time had passed.
She looked up to see John leaning casually against the door, wearing a playful smile.
"You’ve been in here for hours," he teased.
"I figured I’d better come rescue you before you starve. Lunch is ready."
Blinking in surprise, Felicity glanced at the clock and saw that the morning had slipped away without even realizing it. She stood, stretching her legs as a smile tugged at her lips. "I guess I got a little lost," she admitted, feeling the warmth of the sunlight still on her skin.
John grinned. "That’s the whole point of a good book, right? Come on, let’s eat."
Lunch was just as delicious as breakfast, though Felicity couldn’t help but notice that Nathan didn’t join them this time.
It was just her and John at the table, and she found herself at ease in his company.
They talked effortlessly, covering everything from books and music to movies and life in general.
John was not only witty but incredibly well-traveled.
As he shared stories from his many adventures around the world, Felicity felt like she was speaking with someone who had lived a dozen lifetimes before she met him.
His tales were vivid—descriptions of sailing across the Mediterranean, hiking through ancient ruins, and experiencing cultures she had only read about filled the conversation.
Felicity couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy.
The idea of zipping around the world and exploring places from her favorite books felt like a dream—one she could never afford on a schoolteacher’s salary.
But sitting across from John, hearing his firsthand accounts, was almost like experiencing it for herself.
She soaked up every word, living vicariously through his stories as if they were shared memories.
"You've done so much," she finally said, a little awed. "I can’t even imagine."
John smiled warmly. "You’re still young. Plenty of time to go on adventures of your own.”
“It’s not the time I’m worried about,” Felicity commented. “I’m simply never going to be able to afford those adventures. I don’t know if you know, but schoolteachers are not really rolling around in dough.”
“Never say never. There is no telling what the future could hold for you,” he replied, sounding strangely cryptic.
After lunch, John led Felicity back to the studio.
The afternoon light filtered through the windows as they returned to the sleek recording space.
It felt strange to be back in the same room where so much had happened the night before, but John’s easygoing demeanor quickly put her at ease.
The tension from the previous evening faded as they delved into a more playful side of things.
"Let’s play around a bit." John wore a mischievous grin as he handed her a pair of headphones. They spent the next few hours experimenting with different equipment—recording snippets of dialogue, creating exaggerated sound effects, and even attempting to voice a few over-the-top characters.
John’s laughter was infectious, and before long, Felicity found herself genuinely enjoying every second, forgetting the extravagance of the house and the surreal nature of the entire situation.
At one point, John pretended to be a robot, his voice modulated through the equipment, and Felicity couldn’t stop laughing as he dramatically proclaimed himself the "Podcast Overlord. "
It was all so ridiculous and fun, and for a while, she felt like she was just hanging out with an old friend.
The weight of everything she had been through in the past twenty-four hours—the dinner, recording the audiobook with Nathan the night before, and even her strange attraction to both men—was momentarily lifted and replaced with lighthearted camaraderie.
As the afternoon wore on, though, the day caught up with her. Felicity tried to stifle a yawn, but John noticed immediately. "I’m wearing you out, huh?" he teased, eyes sparkling with amusement.
She smiled sheepishly. "A little. It’s been a lot."
"Come on," he said, stepping away from the console. "Let me show you to a room where you can rest. You’ve earned it."
He led her down a hallway she hadn’t been in before, the walls lined with beautiful paintings that added to the house’s air of grandeur. It felt as though the manor went on forever, each corridor leading to more secret rooms and quiet spaces, all exuding wealth and history.
John stopped at a set of double doors and pushed them open, revealing a large, elegant bedroom with all the charm of a teenage girl’s sanctuary.
The soft lavender walls were adorned with posters of rock bands and quotes from classic books written in delicate cursive.
Shelves lined with stuffed animals and trinkets sat beside stacks of well-worn novels, their spines cracked from years of love.
A white wrought-iron bed, big enough for four people, with a pastel quilt, was the centerpiece of the room, scattered with an assortment of plush pillows.
"There’s a bathroom through here," John said, gesturing to another door. "Take a bath if you’d like. And the wardrobe contains clothes. I’m sure you’ll find something comfortable."
"Thanks," Felicity said softly, her exhaustion now undeniable. John gave her a gentle smile before leaving her alone in the room.
Curiosity piqued, Felicity wandered into the adjoining bathroom and stopped in her tracks.
It was breathtaking—a marble-clad oasis with a bathtub so large it looked like a small pool.
The faucets were gold, and soft candlelight flickered from the sconces on the walls.
She imagined sinking into the tub and letting all the tension of the day melt away.
After admiring the bathroom’s opulence, Felicity made her way to the wardrobe.
When she opened it, she found a variety of clothes neatly hung inside, but something odd caught her attention as she flipped through them.
The majority of the clothes looked... juvenile.
The frilly dresses, soft pastel shades, and delicate fabrics seemed more appropriate for a young girl than someone like her.
The clothes were her size but had a childlike quality that made her pause.
A twinge of unease crept in, but she shook it off. It wasn’t her place to ask questions, and she had no idea who else had stayed in the room before her. Maybe the house had a history she didn’t know about. It wasn’t her business, she reminded herself.
Instead of dwelling on it, Felicity pulled out a simple nightgown, the soft fabric comforting against her skin.
She slipped into it and made her way to the massive bed, marveling at how soft and inviting it looked.
The sheer size of it was impressive—easily big enough to accommodate four people.
It felt like sinking into a cloud as she lay down, her body immediately relaxing into the luxurious sheets.
As she settled in, her mind wandered back to everything that had happened since she arrived.
The dinner, the studio, the way Nathan and John seemed to orbit around her like planets.
And, of course, the way Nathan had touched her the night before.
The thought of his hands on her skin sent a warm shiver through her, and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from getting too caught up in the memory.
But the exhaustion was stronger than the memories, and soon, her eyes drooped. The plush bed seemed to swallow her whole, pulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When she finally awoke, the sun was lower in the sky, casting a golden glow through the windows.
She stretched languidly, feeling refreshed, and glanced at the clock on the nightstand.
Just in time for dinner, she thought with a small smile.
Felicity slipped out of bed, adjusting the nightgown as she padded barefoot across the room.
She had no idea what awaited her for the evening, but she was ready for anything after the day she’d had.
After dinner, as they lingered over the last few sips of wine, John leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on Felicity. “We’re heading to the study,” he said casually as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Why don’t you join us? You can bring your book along and relax a bit.”
Felicity glanced at her half-finished novel resting on the dining room table, feeling a small flutter of curiosity.
She hadn’t been in the study yet and wasn’t ready to call it a night.
With a nod, she picked up her book and followed them down another long hallway, the quiet hum of the manor filling the space around them.