3. Felix

CHAPTER THREE

felix

“Do you think you might have something for him here?” Ben smiles at me, despite not being a morning person and me bombarding him with questions first thing this morning.

“Yeah. I’m sure we can find something for him. We’ve had a lot of new members join lately.”

The gym has expanded quite a bit this past year with Ben’s husband, Colby, offering amazing fitness classes and the addition of a big-ass indoor pool. “I was thinking that too.”

“Just have him fill out an application online, okay?” I nod, but Ben still looks concerned. “Does he need anything else?”

“Not sure. He’s a reluctant one, that’s for sure,” I say, holding up the grocery bags I brought and the breakfast in my other hand. “But I’ll crack him.”

Ben chuckles. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Ben.” I bounce toward the stairs, eager to learn more about Henry today. I know he doesn’t trust me yet, but I feel an odd pull to the man. I sense desperation and a sense of unworthiness I’m determined to turn around.

Everyone is worthy.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I knock quietly. I haven’t been around too many babies in my life, but I know you never wake them up on purpose. When the door opens, I nearly fall flat on my face, stunned by the sight before me.

It seems Henry made use of the shower. His sandy-blond hair is darker as it hangs wet around his handsome face. His chest is bare, showing off a sinewy torso and trim hips wrapped in a towel.

He’s absolutely gorgeous. Maybe a little on the thin side, but I figure that’s more likely due to his current lifestyle and probably eating the bare minimum. I can fix that.

I realize I haven’t moved or said a word since he opened the door, so I awkwardly hold up my right hand, offering breakfast and fresh coffee. “Hungry?” I barely squeak out.

“Uh . . .” He looks behind him and then back at me, nodding as he moves out of the doorway. I try my best not to stare at his perfectly sculpted ass, which is hugged by the thin white towel, but really, I’m only human. “Sure. I’m just going to get dressed.”

He’s already moved back to the bathroom as I close the door behind me and look around for the tiny human. I spot her on the bed in the back. She’s asleep, and pillows surround her on both sides but don’t touch her.

Moments later, a disappointingly dressed Henry exits the bathroom, his eyes fixed on her.

“She seems pretty content.”

He meets my eyes a moment later. “Yeah. Sometimes I hate when she sleeps that hard.”

“Oh my God, why?” I ask as I make myself at home on the couch, lifting the coffee cup up to him. I’ll put the groceries away in a moment, but I want to get him fed first. “Don’t you like when she’s quiet?”

Okay. So again, not great with babies.

He takes a tentative seat next to me on the couch, accepting the coffee and bringing it to his lips. He takes a small sip, then looks at me, grimacing. “That’s really sweet.”

“Oh.” I smile big. “I didn’t know what you like, so I just got you the same mocha latte I get, which has extra chocolate and whipped cream.”

“Thank you,” he says politely and takes another drink, even though it’s clear it’s not his favorite.

“How do you drink your coffee?”

“Usually plain. Just black coffee,” he says shyly, which I find adorable.

“Noted.” He looks like he wants to argue about me making a mental note about his normal coffee order, but I refuse to let him. “So why don’t you like your daughter to sleep?”

He smiles, shaking his head at me. “I like her to sleep. Just, I don’t know . . .” He looks over his shoulder at his still-sleeping daughter, then back at me. “Not so hard. I want to poke her and make sure she’s still breathing.”

I’m sure he doesn’t realize he just shared a piece of himself with me, but I keep that to myself. But I do revel in that fact. “You never poke a sleeping baby. Even I know that.”

He doesn’t agree or disagree. So I hand him his breakfast sandwich, then words are forgotten. He immediately tears into it, but I don’t make a big deal of that, grabbing the groceries and heading to the kitchen. I unpack the milk, juice, fruit and some stuff that’s definitely not healthy before rejoining him. I discreetly left the bag of diapers and wipes next to the couch. I’m sure he’ll argue with me about that, so I hope he won’t notice until I leave.

He’s already scarfed down his sandwich before I remove my own from the bag. “You want this one too?”

I don’t want to make a big deal out of him clearly missing a couple of meals, but he shakes his head and takes another drink of his coffee, managing not to grimace this time. “No, thanks. It was really good though. Thank you for breakfast.” He looks toward the kitchen. “And the groceries.”

“It’s no big deal.”

But it is to him. I see it all over his face and want to tell him to stop worrying. But I don’t and instead, just move to the next subject.

“So, Ben might have a job here for you at the gym. He said for you to apply online.”

“What?”

“A job. Here. It’s a great place to work. Good benefits too. Fair pay.”

“Here? At the gym?”

I nod, wondering why he has such a hard time trusting people. “I can help you apply, if you want. Or you can do it on my phone.” I have no idea if he has a phone and don’t want him to have to ask.

I pull up the gym’s website on my phone, handing it to him. He takes it but doesn’t look at it. “Uh . . . what about Hazel? I can’t leave her.”

Hmm . . . that’s true. But I won’t be deterred. “I’m sure you can work something out with Ben. How about you just apply? We’ll figure everything else out as we go.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asks, uncertainty lacing his deep voice.

I look down at my coffee, taking a drink. “Everyone deserves someone being nice to them. Well, everyone who isn’t a dick. And so far, you haven’t been a dick to me.”

He seems confused, but he must decide to just go with it because he uses my phone to apply.

My curiosity pushes me to ask him so many things, wanting to know how he ended up here. But I give him his space and don’t push.

I think, with Henry, I need to take a more subtle path to get to a level of friendship and trust with him.

Which is definitely not my style. But regardless, I can do it that way.