Chapter 6
6
Felix stood outside Stan’s, rocking from foot to foot, doing his best not to obsessively check the time on his phone. He raked his fingers through his hair, damp at the roots from his shower.
After work, he’d spent time boxing in the basement, trying to get out his… energy before meeting up with Jo. Unfortunately, he was still sore and had to take his workout easier than he’d planned. So he’d taken matters into his own hands (so to speak) in the shower, struggling to keep his mind blank. Getting off to thoughts of Jo felt wrong, but, in the end, it was a losing battle. He came, hard and loud, when an image sprang to mind of her eyes behind glasses beaded with water droplets. In the reading room the previous night, it had taken almost ten minutes before she thought to wipe the rain off those fucking glasses. He’d been distracted the entire time, wanting to take them off her, clean them for her, hand them back, and watch her bite her lip and smile and say thank you. Felix didn’t quite know how to feel about that urge, but his dick was apparently into it.
“Hey there!”
Felix turned toward her voice. She was dressed much like she had been the night they met. Instead of leggings, Jo wore black, high-waisted skinny jeans that emphasized her ample hips. Her cropped T-shirt was pale pink with a faded screen print of a cat napping on a stack of books. And, of course, there was that denim jacket that Felix was starting to associate with her as closely as her smile, her eyes, her sense of humor. Jo’s hair was down and curled, and she was wearing her glasses.
“Hi,” he said. Fuck, did his voice crack? Did she hear it? Get it together, man. This is not a date. You are friends. You are not that douchebag who can’t tell the difference.
“You look nice,” Jo said. “I’ve never seen you outside of work clothes.”
“Oh, thanks,” Felix said, running a hand self-consciously down his torso. He’d kept it simple with dark wash jeans, a plain black T-shirt, and a maroon zip-up hoodie with the Rutgers “R” embroidered on the chest. Hardly “nice” clothes, but he appreciated her kindness anyway. “You too. Cat person?”
She glanced down at her shirt. “Yeah. Library user, MnM player, cat person. I’m a triple threat.”
Felix laughed and gestured toward the door. “Do you have any?” he asked while the bouncer carded them.
“Two—nope, I have one cat. Merry.”
“I’m sorry, did you lose one?”
The bouncer waved them in. A blast of electronic music rattled Felix’s eardrums as he followed Jo inside.
“Kind of?” Jo shouted, leaning closer to be heard. “I… I broke up with someone before I moved here. He kept our other cat.”
“That’s rough.”
Jo shrugged.
“Let me guess,” Felix said. “Is the other cat Pippin?”
She rocked onto her back foot and looked up at him, impressed. “You said you don’t read fantasy!”
“But I do watch Oscar-winning movies on occasion.” They squeezed up to the bar between two groups of tipsy twenty-somethings. Felix bent closer to Jo’s ear. She smelled like something fruity, something just shy of cloying, a scent that plummeted right into the depths of him. “Was I right?”
“Yeah,” she said, flashing him a quick smile. “I miss him. The cat, not the guy.”
Felix nodded, unsure how to follow up that comment. A bartender, a white guy with a shaved head and two full sleeves of tattoos, made eye contact with him and gave a “be right there” nod.
“Are we drinking?” Jo asked. “I don’t really know your plan. I’m following your lead here.”
“I’ll probably get a beer or cider or something. I planned to talk to the manager about advertising here.”
“On a Saturday night?” Jo scoffed, waving broadly at the packed bar. “Good luck. You should have come at, like, five o’clock.”
She had a point.
“Well, fuck.”
Jo spun to face him, and her hair hit his arm. When he glanced down toward the unexpected touch, he spotted a flash of midriff between her cropped shirt and jeans. Fuck. Fuck. A sliver of skin should not be that successful in undoing him. He really needed to get out more.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
Before he could respond, the bartender appeared, leaning on the bar with his tattooed arms spread in a wide V. “What’ll it be, folks?”
They ordered—wheat beer for Felix and gin martini for Jo—and paid, and then Jo pointed out an empty high table along the back wall. With the blaring music, it wasn’t much quieter there, but at least the cacophony of the bar top was farther away.
“What’s your question?” Felix asked as soon as they were seated.
“I’m confused about something,” she replied. “Most of the time you seem pretty buttoned up and reserved, and your emails are the most formal ones I’ve ever gotten. But then something will slip out, like a ‘fuck’ or a dig at your boss or a joke with Peggy. It throws me off a little.”
Felix took a sip of beer before responding. “You’re in medicine, right?”
“Yeah, I’m a nurse.”
“Did you ever go to grad school?”
Jo sat up straighter, and her entire body tensed. “No,” she said defensively. “I didn’t need to.”
“I’m not suggesting you did. I merely meant to establish a point of reference,” he said. She relaxed, but she didn’t quite look at him as she sipped her martini. “I don’t know the medical field, really, but I know there are aspects of it that are very competitive. Libraries are the same way. Getting into grad school is extremely difficult, let alone getting into your chosen specialty and finding a job on the other side. I got lucky: a couple of months after I moved to Ashville last year, a librarian retired. When Warren saw that he had a Rutgers MI in the candidate pool, someone who was already in town and didn’t need to be convinced to move to the middle of nowhere, I was a shoo-in.”
“You only moved here last year? You’re not from Ashville?”
Felix shook his head. “I’m from Tulsa originally, and then I spent several years on the East Coast. Jersey, most recently. I moved here when my grandma was dying so my grandpa wouldn’t be alone. Tito is one of those heart-on-his-sleeve old timers who’d been married so long he was incomplete without his wife. If I hadn’t come, and stayed, we probably would have lost him, too, after she was gone.”
He paused and drank deeply from his glass, remembering how hard those last few weeks of Lita’s life were.
“I don’t know what to say to that except I’m sorry about your grandma,” Jo said after a moment.
“Thanks.” He sniffed and cleared the lump from his throat. “Anyway, yes, libraries are competitive. And I eventually want to work in special collections at a university, which is even more insular and elite. I’m starting later in life than some people, and I never landed an internship, so I’m already a few steps behind. I need to be exceptional at my job to get glowing references and work my way up to where I want to be.”
“Hence the formality.”
“Exactly.” Felix raised his beer in mock salute. “I also can’t afford to lose my job. I can’t leave Tito, and there aren’t any other libraries in town.”
“Why would you lose your job?” she asked. “Based on the way you’ve treated MnM night, you seem very dedicated.”
“Because the county is considering pulling some library funding to put more cops on the street.”
Jo let out a “boo” so long and loud that people at other tables looked over at her.
“My thoughts exactly,” Felix said, unable to stop himself from smiling.
“Seriously, fuck that,” she said vehemently. “Is there a petition or something I can sign?”
Felix shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know about that, but my hope is that MnM will help the library become more relevant to the community and allow us to push back on the county’s recommendations. So thank you for your help there.”
“Oh, I can do better than that,” she declared. “We’re making MnM night the coolest place in town. It’s time for some guerilla marketing.”
“What—?”
Jo was on her feet before he could get another word out. She swept over to the table next to theirs. “Excuse me, have you heard of the game Monsters and Mythology?”
“Um, yeah, I think so?” said a very confused, pink-haired girl.
Jo launched into a spiel about the library’s upcoming event, making up details on the spot that Felix did his best to commit to memory so he could try to deliver on them. Then, she stood there and waited for the four people at the table to enter the information into their calendar apps. The last thing she said before she left them was, “I’ll see you there! I’m Jo, by the way. That’s Felix; he’ll be there too.”
Felix gave the table a wave and what he hoped was a friendly--looking smile. Jo hopped back up onto her stool and grinned at him. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a sound so small she probably couldn’t hear it over the music. He didn’t know whether to be impressed or slightly terrified.
“What?” Jo asked, all wide-eyed, adorable innocence.
“I…” Felix racked his brain for something to say. “Weren’t you following my lead on this?”
“Shit, you’re right,” Jo said, instantly deflating. “Sorry, did I embarrass you?”
“No, God, I was joking,” Felix said. “That was incredible. Maybe we need to come back with flyers and do that for real.”
Jo grinned shyly and finished off her drink. “Oh, I have another question for you.”
“Shoot.” Felix took a long drink to bolster his courage for whatever was going to happen next. Nothing about tonight was going as he’d expected, but fuck if he wasn’t having the most fun he’d had in months.
“Do you ever slip up and call your boss ‘Roarin’ Wigs’?”
Beer almost shot out of Felix’s nose. He managed to swallow before coughing into his elbow. Jo leaned forward and laid a hand on his forearm.
“Sorry, you okay? Do you need water?”
Felix nodded and coughed some more. Jo disappeared into the crowd and returned shortly with a small water glass in each hand. He took one and drank deeply.
“Run that by me one more time?” Felix asked, his voice rough from almost choking to death on alcohol and carbonation.
“Roarin’ Wigs,” she repeated. “Like, if you accidentally switch up the sounds. What’s that called?”
“Spoonerism,” Felix coughed.
“Yeah, that’s it. Fucking librarians, of course you’d know,” she said, and the affection in her voice nearly killed Felix all over again. “When I read your email this morning, I thought it would be an easy mistake to make. Also, ‘Warren Riggs’s Roarin’ Wigs’ would absolutely be the name of a disguise shop in MnM.”
“I do not understand how your mind works,” Felix said with a shake of his head.
Jo winced and shrank back. “Sorry.”
“It’s a compliment, Jo,” Felix said. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, his tight shoulder muscles stretching as they shifted. He knit his brow and regarded her closely. “Why do you keep thinking I’m insulting you or belittling you tonight? You’re the most creative person I’ve ever met. I’m so impressed by how you come up with examples of MnM stuff on the fly. And the way you make connections between things is wonderful. You know that every time I use my library key, I smile about that stamped G meaning ‘gold’?”
Jo was staring at him without blinking. Her eyes were big, as round as her cheeks, and shiny in the dim bar light. They’d looked like that before, when she’d teared up last week talking about what MnM meant to her.
“You think I’m creative?” She asked it as if she didn’t believe it, as if she didn’t know it to be true.
But of course it was true. It was one of the truest things Felix had ever known. As true as the sunrise. As true as Tito and Lita’s love. As true as his own heartbeat.
And she didn’t know it.
Holy fuck. Someone had really done a number on her. Or maybe, somewhere along the way, she’d done it to herself.
Felix reached across the table and grasped Jo’s shoulder. He would have rather taken her hand, but he didn’t want her to misread his intention.
“Yes, Jo. I do.”
She made a little O with her mouth and breathed out in a long, slow exhale. She didn’t say “thank you,” but Felix didn’t need to hear it. He squeezed her shoulder before sitting back. After a moment, he said, “For the record, no, I have never called my boss Roarin’ Wigs. But if I do now, it will be all your fault.”
She laughed in that quick, sharp way of hers, and Felix’s entire chest caved in on itself.
“I will take full responsibility, so you don’t lose your job.”
“Thank you. Now, I have a question for you,” he said.
“Go.”
“At Warren Riggs’s Roarin’ Wigs, do the wigs actually roar?”
Jo went bug-eyed. “Shit, you’re a genius. I was thinking that the wigs are a fun time, like rip-roarin’. There’s got to be an enchanting spell for that, though.”
Her eyes darted back and forth in thought. She pulled out her phone. As he finished off his pint, Felix watched her open a note titled “Campaign Ideas.” She scrolled down a long list of bullet points that moved too fast to read. At the bottom, she’d already written down the name of the shop. She added another line, indented it, and typed “Make them actually roar (credit: Felix).”
Jo returned her phone to her jacket pocket. Felix was done with his beer. She’d successfully managed not to break down in tears in front of him. Now what?
“Do you want some more water?” she asked.
“Yes, but I’ll get it this time,” he replied, on his feet before Jo could protest. When he returned, he gave her back her glass but didn’t sit down.
“I’m going to ask about talking to the manager,” he said, leaning into her space enough that her breath caught. “I’m sure you’re right that it’s a long shot, but I did come here with a purpose. I might as well try.”
“Want company?”
“No, that’s okay. You hold our table,” he said. “If it’s as fruitless as you suspect, I’ll be right back. If it works, I’ll wave you over.”
He took a big gulp of water, set down his glass, and strode across the room, half a head taller than the crowd. Jo watched him lean casually on the bar and settle his weight into his hip, ass on full display.
“Jesus,” she muttered. “That thing should be illegal.”
She forced herself to look around instead of gawk. Maybe she’d get lucky and spot someone wearing a “This is how I roll” shirt to tell about the launch event. But instead, as her gaze wandered, so did her mind.
Felix thought she was creative. Her dumb joke about the library key had made him smile all week. He’d been thinking about her. Thinking about her and thinking she was creative. Jo liked to believe she had her moments—a flash of inspiration about a campaign story arc, a witty retort in character, that kind of thing. But no more creative than anyone else she roleplayed with. Certainly not worthy of being “the most creative person” someone knew. Felix just hadn’t met enough roleplayers yet to realize she was pretty average.
Why do you keep thinking I’m insulting you or belittling you tonight?
Oh God, why did she? She could see it now, looking back on the night. She hadn’t even realized she was doing it. And now here she was again, doing it to herself. Why? And why had Felix’s compliment made her feel like crying?
Maybe because tonight felt a little bit too much like a date. And maybe because it had been a long-ass time since someone she dated, someone she liked, complimented her in regard to MnM.
A wave of heat swept over Jo from head to toe, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “God damn it.” She fumbled for her phone.
Jo
Help I like him
*Like* like him
The reply was almost immediate.
Aida
Oh damn
How do you feel about that?
Jo was scrolling through “confused” gif options for one that felt right when she spotted a maroon hoodie approaching out of the corner of her eye. She hastily typed “later” and sent it to Aida. She set her phone face down on the table as Felix slid onto his stool and held up a black business card with white text.
“Turns out the bartender who served us is the manager,” he said. “He couldn’t talk now but told me to call him on Monday.”
“That’s great!”
“We’ll see how it goes.”
They smiled at each other and went quiet. Jo took a sip of water. Felix drummed his fingers on his empty pint glass.
“I should’ve asked before I went to the bar,” he finally said, “but do you want another drink? On me, if that’s okay, to thank you for coming to what ended up being a complete waste of your time.”
“Not a waste of time,” she replied. “I got to see a new place in town. And hang out with a friend.” Because that’s what you are, Jo. Friends. “Better than falling asleep on the couch rewatching Xena for the hundredth time.”
“That’s high praise, I think,” he said with a smile. “So, another round?”
Jo frowned. “I’d better not, actually. Sorry. I picked up a shift at work tomorrow, and I have to be in at eight.”
Was that disappointment on Felix’s face? It passed so quickly she couldn’t be sure.
“You want to stay a bit longer or call it a night?” he asked.
Jo flipped her phone over, angled away from Felix. Nothing from Aida, but after last time, she wasn’t taking any chances. She checked the time. They’d only been there for half an hour.
“We can stay,” she said. “If that’s cool with you.”
There was no mistaking his expression now. The slow grin, the crinkled corners of his eyes, the ever-so-slight flush in his cheeks. “That’s cool with me.”
They talked until Jo’s voice was raw from shouting over the music and the ever-expanding crowd of drunk college students. She asked him about his time at Rutgers and why he decided to go back to school. It was a childhood dream, he explained, ever since he saw the Rare Books Collection on a field trip to the University of Oklahoma.
She asked what sorts of books he liked, since fantasy wasn’t his thing. Research-heavy nonfiction, he said, which made perfect sense to Jo. What surprised her, though, was that he also enjoyed poetry. He liked the way each word had to be precisely chosen, how poems could convey beautiful imagery or depth of emotion in a few brief lines.
In return, Jo mostly talked about MnM. At first, she kept her answers to Felix’s questions brief so she didn’t bore him. But when he asked for some stories from her campaign with her friends, he looked so genuinely curious she stopped holding back. She told him story after story: how Max and Heather decided that their demonkin characters, Lyric and Rosalis, should be cousins because they couldn’t stop bickering; how Lyric kept fucking dying,and Young’s cleric Sierra had to bring him back to life at least a dozen times; how Kim’s halfling rogue Lucas got the kill shot on the final combat of the entire campaign when all hope seemed lost. And of course, the epic love story of Kelpie and Sorn, Aida’s druid and David’s warlock, who pined after each other for months, finally confessed their feelings, adopted a daughter, and sailed off into the sunset as a family.
“Are Aida and David together then?” Felix asked.
“No, Aida’s engaged to someone else, and David’s aromantic, so he doesn’t date much.”
“So it’s only their characters who are in love.”
“Yup,” Jo confirmed. “MnM is about telling stories together. Sometimes love is part of the story.”
“Does that ever get weird?”
“It can,” she said with a shrug. “It’s best for the players to talk things through if they see the potential for a love story between their characters. Both players, obviously, need to be on board for it to happen. The GM can guide that conversation and figure out how to work it into the overall story.”
“Huh,” Felix said. He paused thoughtfully before he continued. “I suppose that’s not much different from real life—talking through your feelings and deciding what you both want. It’s hard to imagine doing that on behalf of a character who doesn’t really exist though.”
“When you’re roleplaying, you’re making all kinds of decisions on the character’s behalf. This might sound strange, but it’s almost like you become a part of the character and the character becomes a part of you.”
“That’s not so strange,” he said. “Plenty of actors say things like that when they really embody a role.”
“Exactly!” Jo cried. “The only difference is we improvise the script and use dice rolls to help determine the plot as we go.”
A bemused grin came over his face. “And you think you’re not creative.”
Jo stammered a handful of sounds that didn’t somehow magically turn into words.
“Thank you for telling me about your game,” he said, saving her from herself. “I feel like I have a richer understanding of MnM now.”
This is the part where you say “you’re welcome,” Jo, she told herself as a rich warmth washed over her.
“I need to pee,” she yelled instead. “I drank, like, six of those tiny glasses of water.” Jo grabbed her phone off the table and practically ran for the bathroom. It wasn’t complete bullshit; she did have to pee. But she stayed in the stall for a bit when she was done.
Jo
I feel pretty damn okay about it
Aida
Good for you, babe
Send pics
If he hurts you, I will get on a plane
RIP hot librarian
Jo
I love you
Aida
Imagine me saying something about good choices
When Jo returned to the table, Felix was already standing, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Their glasses had been cleared away.
“I didn’t realize it was almost eleven,” he said. “Shall we head out?”
Her first instinct was to apologize for keeping him, for talking too much, but she bit back the words. He wanted to know about MnM. He’d even thanked her for sharing. She had nothing to apologize for… right?
They shouldered their way through the sea of bodies, and Jo’s ears rang with the sudden quiet outside. She pulled her jacket tighter around her to keep the cold air from creeping up her crop top. She crossed her arms under her boobs to hold the jacket closed and craned her neck toward the night sky. The number of stars visible here still took her breath away. Jo doubted she would ever get tired of seeing so many constellations at once.
She lowered her gaze to find Felix watching her curiously. “I like the sky here,” she said. Before she could think better of it, she added, “And I like being friends with you.”
He blinked in surprise, but then looked pleased. “Me too, Jo. It’s been… a while since I’ve gone out with a friend. I had fun tonight. You want a walk to your car?”
Jo almost declined. The parking lot was right behind the bar, and Ashville was generally safe. But, come to think of it, Felix was probably going the same direction anyway.
“Sure. Thanks.”
They walked side by side to the lot, accompanied by drunken shouts and laughter from people taking a smoke break or stumbling down the street. Jo pointed out her car, a bright blue hatchback. Felix stood a few paces away while she opened her door. She paused before getting inside, looking at him one last time, surrounded by stars that went all the way to the horizon. She tucked her hair behind her ear and said good night.
“Night, Jo. See you next Friday.”
Friday. Six days away. It might as well be an eternity.