8. Chapter 8

Chapter eight

Felix

O nce I donned the suit, the nerves set in.

When my coworkers found out I’d gotten the invite from Carly to the Art Museum gala, they were jealous as fuck. Reynard, my supervisor, had sent an email wishing me a good time, along with a reminder I represented the company. Clearly, no nerves there.

A knock sounded on my door, and I straightened from my slouch on my couch.

Cor.

The meal with his siblings last week had been pure chaos, and I’d enjoyed every second. Even though I was just acting as Cor’s boyfriend, what surprised me was just how smooth the transition was. The constant PDA had already been there, the comfort between us, the wordless communication, except now a new feeling simmered on the back burner every time my gaze landed on him.

Pure, unadulterated lust.

The man was five-alarm hot, and it mystified me as to how I hadn’t realized earlier. Fuck, how hadn’t I even figured I might be attracted to guys as well? And now he was at my house, and we’d pretend to be happily in love for the rest of the night.

I couldn’t fucking wait, though the sheer intensity of the excitement pumping through my veins terrified me a little.

My hand landed on the cool doorknob, and I turned it.

The moment my gaze landed on Cor, the breath got knocked from my chest.

At the tux shop, that suit had fit him well, but now that he wore it with a white button-down and tie, his thick brown hair and beard tamed, he was fucking gorgeous. All broad shoulders, muscular thighs, and a soft smile. Things I didn’t think I’d be into, but on him, they were a struck match to my attraction.

“You look damn good, boyfriend.” I trailed a finger down the center of his chest. He shivered, enough that I could feel it, and my mind reeled with the headiness of that. His pupils were blown with lust, almost drowning out the blue.

Despite him being a big guy, he always exuded a gentle vibe, which had translated into my fantasies—pushing him to his knees or bending him over to fuck him. Ngh.

“You’re…you,” Cor croaked, and the blush that lit his cheeks had me giddy.

How had I missed the signals when we’d become friends? I’d thought he just got red easily, that he humored my neediness and extra PDA. However, the second he’d confessed his type and I’d realized that yeah, I was definitely into him, the cues clarified in my brain.

Enough to want to slam my head into the wall a little.

The breakup with Aria wasn’t even on my mind anymore. Because I’d realized what she did—that I missed having someone there more than I missed her. We’d been a lukewarm cup of tea as a relationship at best.

“I am, in fact, me,” I teased, stepping back to welcome him. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

“The best,” Cor said, his blue eyes softening with a vulnerability that struck me right in the solar plexus. Butterflies unleashed in my stomach, and fuck, I was fixated on him.

That. That was the inferno I’d been searching for.

“Do you need a drink or anything before we head out?” I asked, humming with energy. Cor’s gaze swept everywhere through my apartment, as if he took it all in. “Ah, shit, you’ve never been here before, have you?”

“Nope, you’ve been a shit friend and never invited me over,” Cor said, but his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Clearly.” I teased my lower lip between my teeth and was rewarded by Cor’s gaze zeroing in on it. Heat flushed through me. How would I survive tonight without wanting to climb him? Ever since my changing room realization, the fantasies playing on repeat in my brain were making my right hand tired.

The Pandora’s box had been cracked open, and there was no shutting it.

Or the gay porn tabs on my home laptop either.

“Okay, let’s have waters at least.” I needed to get my hands busy with something other than pawing Cor. “Gotta hydrate—what with being so thirsty.”

“My god,” Cor muttered, sliding a palm down his cheek. “I don’t know if I’m going to survive tonight.” Those words were so low I almost missed them, but my heart accelerated, flat slammed on the gas, and blew past the stoplights.

I made a beeline for my kitchen, which wasn’t far given that I lived in Philly and didn’t make a fortune. I grabbed two glasses and filled them with water from my tap. Cor still stood by my couch, his gaze flitting from one corner of the room to the other and making me wish I’d cleaned up a little more.

“Is that a Falchion hanging up?” Cor asked. I handed him a glass of water, maybe making sure our knuckles brushed.

“Who doesn’t have swords as decoration?” I took a sip of my water and attempting to not spill it all over myself.

“Boring people, clearly.”

“Ready to go look at actual historical specimens?” I asked. My palms broke out in a sweat, which warred with the condensation on my glass.

“Any last-minute facts to get straight about this boyfriend gig?” Cor asked before lifting up his water and chugging. If I watched his Adam’s apple bob, that was my business.

“Considering we nailed the trial by fire with your family, I think we can handle my coworkers.” I grabbed his empty glass and brought both back to the kitchen. No avoiding this any longer. “We’ve got the easiest meet-cute on the planet. Sword fighting class is a cool-as-shit one too.”

“If only it were that easy to meet queer boys at sword fighting classes,” Cor said with a fake wistful sigh. Except I didn’t miss him chewing on his lower lip, a tell of his that he wasn’t quite faking the way he pretended. My heart thumped a little harder.

“Feels like a missed opportunity, what with all the swordplay.” I waggled my brows. “Come on, I’ll drive us through the grueling city traffic.”

He arched a brow. “You mean the whopping ten minutes? I already mapped it out. Though with your driving, it might take a half hour.”

A bark of a laugh escaped me, and I flipped him off. After checking for my keys, phone, and wallet, I walked to the door, and Cor followed. The Philly breeze in autumn was bracing, mingling with car exhausts and burnt rubber. My Toyota was parked a block down from the apartment because parking in this stretch of the city was a bitch.

“What are you most excited to see?” I pulled my keys from my pocket.

“The Viking collection. Those are some old-as-hell specimens.”

“Right, so, you’re a fan of Viking swords,” I teased. “If it’s the size you’re after, then you’re in luck.”

Cor’s blush returned something fierce. He opened his mouth and closed it again. In the past, I would never have flirted with him this hard, but my newfound realization burned within me. A little recklessness had seized me, the sort of abandon I hadn’t experienced in years, and tonight, I wanted to chase it to see where it led.

After all, we were pretending to be boyfriends. And a wicked curiosity burned in my blood, too insatiable to deny.

“Myself, I’m looking for the hand-and-half sword—also fitting.” We stopped in front of my car, and I couldn’t help but meet his gaze.

Cor’s blush was delicious, and I lingered on those plump lips. I’d never kissed anyone with a beard before. Would the feel of it turn me on even more? Honestly, with the way my curiosity overflowed, I’d try just about anything.

“Are you trying to torture me?” Cor murmured but this time loud enough to be heard.

I licked my lips, intensely aware of how his gaze locked on mine. “Maybe.” Except if the chance came up, I wouldn’t just tease. I’d grab it for all it was worth. “Depends on if you’re a size queen. Some of my exes were thrilled, while others were not a fan.”

“No one warned me that fake boyfriending included extensive conversations about the size of your cock.” Cor opened the passenger door.

“Clearly, we should’ve been oversharing ages ago.” I slipped into the driver’s seat. When I met Cor six months ago, I’d been with Aria and had mistaken all our comfortable PDA as innocent friendship, not the lust sizzling through my veins. If I were honest, something had tickled in the back of my mind that this was different, but I hadn’t listened.

I turned on the ignition, and off we went. The old buildings loomed on either side of us, the skyscrapers in the direction we traveled. Philly was all narrow streets and ramshackle houses, a mixture of old and new. I liked living here but didn’t take advantage of the bars and nightlife like I should. It’d mostly been an act of rebellion to put some space between me and my family, who was convinced I’d drop into a dead faint if someone looked at me the wrong way.

“Why don’t I come out here more often?” Cor peered out the window. “The sheer number of clubs in the city would make it easier to hook up.”

My stomach flip-flopped. Cor wasn’t mine. He was free to hook up with whoever he pleased—which made that little hint of wildness swilling inside me surge to the fore—because tonight he belonged to me. And even though I still worried that this fascination was a passing thing, that my brain had latched onto it postbreakup, my curiosity drowned that concern out with ease.

“Probably because the city and suburbs are separate entities. Once you’ve been absorbed into the city bubble, you rarely leave.” I merged onto Art Museum Drive. Already, the Philadelphia Museum of Art was visible, the building lit up like a beacon amid plenty of green.

“Fuck, that’s the truth,” Cor said.

The infamous columns came into view, the spotlights highlighting them. I followed the train of cars. It was clear valet was happening for this gala. The event was already too rich for my blood, but thankfully, I’d have Cor by my side.

I pulled up to the valet, got out, and handed over my keys. It wasn’t until I got out of my car that a realization set in. I was going to a function with a guy. Would people look at me differently? My skin prickled with a separate set of nerves, but the moment Cor looped around to my side and extended his arm, I didn’t hesitate and slid mine through his. His touch, his presence, his calmness sliced through all those jitters.

Who cared if people thought I was queer? Carly had invited me and my “boyfriend,” and I’d never see any of these people at the gala again.

Besides, if these feelings emerging from slumber within me happened to stick around, I’d have to get used to being seen in a different light.

Given that everyone had always looked at me like a freak for my seizures as a kid, I was a pro at that.

“You sure you want to do this?” Cor asked as if he sensed my tension.

“Think of the swords, Cor.”

Up ahead, the steps were lit up, and those columns glowed. Seeing the art museum at night like this was an experience in and of itself, and I hadn’t wanted to pass for that reason alone. IT workers didn’t often get invited to fancy shindigs. Icarus Tech might throw a Christmas party every year, but we weren’t a Fortune 500 company.

We followed the couples up the stairs. Everyone was dressed to the fucking nines—which made me relived that Cor and I had gone suit shopping beforehand. We probably still stuck out like sore thumbs among people who knew labels and such, but we weren’t here for them—just to make nice with Carly and get up close and personal with historical stabby shit.

The long staircase leading up to the museum gave me enough of a workout, but of course Cor wasn’t even breathing heavier. Fine, then. I wanted to blend into the background here—something I wanted to do for most of my life, given my spotlight for all the wrong reasons—however, Cor and I already garnered a few long glances. Chances were, it wasn’t about our suits not being designer.

I clutched his arm a little harder, irritation rising within me. If anything, their looks made me want to get handsier with him. As if I needed the fuel to my fire.

We stepped through the doors, and all thoughts melted away. I’d been to the Art Museum plenty of times, but I’d never seen it like this before. The gala was set up in the Great Stair Hall, right at the entrance. The room was darker, lit with blue and gold spotlights that created a breathtaking ambiance. Tables stretched out in antechambers, while some were stationed on the upper floor. People meandered around the place, the low thrum of their voices mingling with the smooth jazz band playing on a small stage in the corner.

A few folks sat at the centerpiece-laden tables, but for the most part, people seemed to be wandering. I scanned the area, searching for a sign of Carly.

“What do you say we find the bar?” Cor asked. “I’m already feeling like a party crasher.”

“Damn, me too.” I grinned. Still, there was no one else I’d rather have by my side. The realization struck me hard in the chest.

We wandered into an antechamber to the left. A short line lay in one direction, which tipped me off. I swept Cor over there.

“Want a beer?” I asked. “Or something fancier?”

“Let’s go with scotch tonight. Might as well fit the vibe, right?” Cor said, his blue eyes twinkling.

“As long as you’re comfortable with driving me back. I’d say I could handle my scotch, but that’d be a lie.”

Cor slipped his arm around my waist while we waited in line, and I leaned in.

“Yeah, I’ll get us to your place,” Cor said. His warm breath puffed against the shell of my ear, and a shiver rolled down my spine. If we weren’t waiting in the bar line, I’d close the space between us and give in to temptation.

We reached the front of the line all too fast, and I ordered. “Two scotches on the rocks.”

The bartender was an older guy in a black vest and perfectly pressed slacks. I was pretty sure he’d dressed better than I did, but whatever, this was one night. I wasn’t going to make myself broke over my attire.

He poured them with ease, handed them over to me, and I slipped to the side with our bounty. I passed Cor his scotch and lifted mine to my lips, needing the liquid courage for…well, all of tonight. The smoky taste hit my lips, followed by that melting burn as it coursed down my throat.

“So, do we have to linger around for appetizers or something? Or can we go sneak over to see the exhibits?” Cor asked. I led us toward a wall so we could lean rather than stand in anyone’s way.

“Honestly, if I don’t spot Carly in the next few minutes, we’re saying ‘fuck this shit’ and finding the exhibits. I’m not here to talk to—” My gaze landed on a guy who looked familiar. “Wait, is that Jake Lippincott?”

“The medieval weapons expert who’s always on the History Channel? Where?” Cor shifted to follow my gaze, inadvertently bringing his body flush against mine. I didn’t quite grind against him, but I leaned against all that bulk. I wasn’t sure I’d survive tonight, especially with the way I kept catching whiffs of his cologne—even though I liked him sweaty and covered in dust and dirt all the same.

“Apparently, there might be people of interest here,” I said, which was unexpected. I’d figured the folks attending would just be stuffy and rich.

“Felix, is that you?” Carly’s voice sounded from my right, and I wheeled in that direction. She approached, looking gorgeous with glossy black hair pulled into a low chignon and a crimson dress that framed her curves and matched her lips. An equally pretty blonde walked alongside her, her pale green dress with a slight shimmer bringing out her blue eyes.

“This her?” Cor asked. I nodded, and sweat broke on my palms. If a major client found out I’d lied, it wouldn’t further my career. Here was to hoping Cor and I could pull off being boyfriends.

Showtime.