CHAPTERTHREE
Faye
“Dinner won’t be long,” Lola calls over the kitchen partition.
“Thanks,” I reply, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.
Felix sits on the other side of the coffee table in the armchair, filling it with his massive form. He’s wearing faded blue jeans and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing me his taut, corded forearms. His jaw is covered in stubble, his hair neatly combed, his pale green eyes seeming to stare through me and into me all at once.
“Lola tells me you enjoy photography,” Felix says after a pause.
His voice is tight, as if he’s annoyed he has to bother talking with me. But it’s preferable to the quiet, to being left with my clashing thoughts.
I’m starting to think I should’ve stayed in the bedroom, but it’s like his voice was calling to me, demanding I go out there, be with him.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Well, I guess I…I sort of dabble.”
It’s difficult to push the words out when I’m fighting my desires every single moment.
Images flit across my mind, not potential photographs but steamy and body-tingling images.
I imagine climbing onto his lap, sitting down as I grind up and down, feeling his manhood rub raw against my panties and my sex. Then, I’ll keep going until he’s groaning, snarling, and freaking animalistic with his need…the same way I am, every moment.
“She does more than dabble,” Lola says. “You should show him some of your stuff, Faye.”
This is one of the only times I’ve ever wanted to shout at Lola.
But it’s totally not her fault.
She has no clue how difficult it is for me to sit here, staring across the table at her dad, fighting every urge in my body.
It’s like there’s something buried deep inside of me, some force, or maybe it’s my core going into crazy baby-making mode.
I don’t know, and I can’t really afford to think about it, not if I want to keep what sanity I have left…and Felix is already doing a great job at taking all of that away, even if he doesn’t know it.
“Uh, sure,” I say, realizing I’m just sitting here like a weirdo. “Let me get my phone.”
As I walk into the bedroom, I imagine Felix is watching me.
I believe his eyes are drawn instantly to my ass, and he can’t help but stare and think about all the things he’d like to do to me. My sex gives a sizzling sensation at the thought, and my panties feel like they don’t freaking fit properly.
In the bedroom, I walk to the edge of the room, out of view. My shoulders slump, and I clench my fists, closing my eyes for a moment as I give myself a pep talk.
I need to calm down and get used to this. Felix is back now. I managed to survive for years with this crush. A brief moment when I turned eighteen had me wondering if maybe he’d take an interest now.
But no, nothing, and so I let it go.
And yet I can’t fight this feeling, like how he looked at me just then, when I emerged from the bedroom…it was somehow different. His eyes went wide for a moment, then he corrected it, seeming to set his jaw with even more grimness as though he was making up for the lapse.
This is all in my head, of course.
Returning to the living room, I swipe on my phone, going to my photograph album.
“It’s nothing special,” I say, walking toward Felix’s chair. “Just some nature shots. A few sunsets. Nothing special.”
I cringe when I hear myself repeat the phrase. Lola has her back turned as she chops something loudly on the board, clack-clack-clack, so at least she doesn’t hear how dorky I sound.
“I’m sure you’re being modest,” Felix says.