Page 59 of King of Hollywood

“As often as you can,” Felix countered. The need simmering in the air between us was palpable. “Until you can’t anymore.”

That was a morose statement.

I didn’t plan on dying anytime soon.

“What if I want forever?” I offered, voice a little hoarse. We were getting more…personal than I’d expected for a second date, but it was nice all the same. I’d always struggled with people. I hated them. I avoided them. I found them tricky, obnoxious—annoying.

Felix was none of those things.

Talking to him was easy.

My masks fell away.

I was Marshall, in all my prickly, unpalatable glory. And Felix seemed to like that.

“Nothing good lasts forever,” Felix countered, that faraway look threatening to overtake him again. To take him away from me. To steal him, despite the fact that I was right here—in front of him—physically present when the demons that lurked in his head were far, far away.

“One day, you’ll tell me why you say that,” I countered, voice low.

“Will I?” Felix’s eyes were present again, and I nearly sagged in relief as his attention flickered back to me. Those lovely red eyes almost seemed to glow in the dwindling candle light.

“You will,” I commanded confidently, voice soft. “You’ll tell me all your secrets.” It was a promise. Felix knew that as well as I did, because he hummed back thoughtfully. “I’ll know why you lock yourself up in here. I’ll know why you hide. I’ll know why you kill. I’ll know all your wants, your needs, your desires.”

“And what will I receive in return? You’re getting an awful lot from me in this hypothetical future.”

“Only the truth.”

“My secrets are all I have,” he countered.

“And your cats.”

“And my cats.” Felix blinked. “So. Make it fair, Marshall. Wow me. What great, wonderful thing will you offer me in exchange?”

“Hmm,” I mulled this over, tapping my lip. What could I offer him? What could I give him that might make him laugh, but wasn’t a promise I couldn’t keep? I’d already offered forever. He hadn’t responded to that the way I’d hoped when I made the statement. Almost like he didn’t trust my words.

Maybe…huge declarations were not the way to Felix’s heart.

Ah. Yes. I knew what to do.

If he didn’t respond well to big declarations, a small one would do.

Simple, but to the point.

Perfect.

“Marshall?” Felix waited, impatient. I clucked my tongue at him, but responded to his cajoling anyway—confident that for the first time in my life, I knew exactly what to say.

“Two eyes, two hands…” My cheeks hurt, and I realized—once again—I was smiling. “And a grin.”

The bare minimum.

But everything all the same.

I promised him my attention, my help, my humor.

My presence in its barest bones.

“How generous of you,” Felix joked—but I could tell he truly meant the words. Like my promise to be present in his life was the best gift I could’ve offered him. Like he understood the subtext so subtly offered. Like he spoke my language, when no one else ever had.