Page 11 of King of Hollywood

“You’re welcome.” I cleared my throat, arching a brow pointedly toward the rest of the stairs that he was still blocking.

“Right, right. Bedroom. Murder. Clean up.” Felix offered me a jaunty salute, before turning himself right back around and marching up the steps. This time he moved quickly, and I realized belatedly, that he’d been practically dragging his feet before.

Like he’d been nervous and now he was excited.

“It’s a lovely house, isn’t it?” Felix asked when we neared the third floor.

Lovely was not the word I’d use. “It’s large,” I said, trying to be nice.

“It is!” Felix laughed and the sound was a little brittle. “Maybe too large for one person.”

“Maybe.”

“I got a good deal on it when I moved in,” he added, then seemed to regret his words immediately, because they offered the opportunity for me to question him.

“When was that?” I asked. He looked like he hadn’t aged a day since I’d moved in across the street from him, so I knew he had to be older than he looked.

“Ah, you know. A while ago.” Felix waved me off vaguely, his shoulders hunched up tight again.

“Why Beach Town?” I asked, curious as to why he was acting so guilty.

“It’s quiet?” He sounded like he was asking me, not telling me. Which was confusing.

I knew why I’d moved here. There’d been an odd little shopkeep who had suggested it to me when I’d been passing through. I didn’t understand why anyone else would. Especially a man like Felix.

“It is,” I agreed, figuring I’d leave it at that, as we’d finally reached the top floor. I was surprised to find that his bedroom was on the third floor. The reasoning behind that was quickly revealed as Felix pushed the antique door open.

The first thing I noticed was the surprising lack of clutter.

The next thing I noticed was the frankly massive telescope that took up a quarter of the room. How the hell could he see anything through the—oh. The ceiling was fully made of glass—aside from the blackout blinds that currently covered it—Well, that answered that.

Beside the star-hunting monstrosity there was a desk covered in haphazard papers, as well as a utility cart full of a myriad of different colors of yarn. Across the room lay a bed, a trail of crocheted wisteria drooping from the ceiling above it. The bed was far larger than a man of Felix’s size needed, and decked out in a plethora of pillows and lovely navy blue comforters.

He clearly spent a lot of time up here, which made sense.

But it still surprised me.

So far, this was the only part of the house that wasn’t crowded with objects and covered in dust. The telescope especially looked well-loved.

There was personality dripping from every inch of the room. Along with the lavender-colored wisteria, looping vines made entirely of yarn decorated the cracks and crevices, draping over the four poster bed like it’d come straight from a swamp. How many hours had that taken him? I had a feeling I didn’t want to know.

Most interesting of all, however, was the cat tree that lined a back wall, and the regal beast that sat atop it, her green eyes disapproving.

“You have cats.”

“I do,” Felix declared proudly, hands on his hips. “That one’s Dolly. She thinks she’s the boss of the house. She’s also the fattest, as she steals Tiffany’s food.” Felix cackled, very obviously delighted by her. He was clearly unhinged. “Watch out though. You’re not a pipsqueak like I am—if you walk by her tree too close she’ll probably try to swipe at that pretty silver hair of yours.”

He thinks my hair is pretty.

“It’s not silver,” I scoffed, arching a brow. I only had a smattering of gray in the front, so his statement was entirely inaccurate. Not that I cared all that much about what color my hair was, or how others perceived it.

“Blond then,” he smiled. “With silver.”

I couldn’t argue with that so I shoved the thought aside, instead focusing on the feline so that I could avoid it. Distracted now, I side-stepped toward the giant telescope that took up the other side of the room. “You like stars.” It was obvious. No man who didn’t like the stars had a telescope like this.

I didn’t get all that close before Felix reacted. His shoulder brushed against mine as he crossed the room, before stopping at the base of the large telescope. He laid a hand on it, the copper shining between his fingertips. The lovely veins on the top of his hand flickered as he tipped his chin up toward the covered ceiling and hummed.

This was the first time I’d truly seen him still.