Page 39 of Felix and the Spy
“Secret lovers don’t go out to see fireworks. They don’t buy each other presents. They don’t make promises about future kisses, or take risks at the office. Are we still just having an affair?”
He hesitated. She wasn’t saying anything he hadn’t thought of. But he didn’t want to ruin what they had by expecting too much of her. “What do you want us to be?”
“Don’t throw the question back at me. I asked you first.”
“I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
“Just tell me how you feel. That’s all I want.” She placed a hand on his chest, and he leaned into her touch. Amara always did this to him—made him break down his walls and reservations, and take risks he’d rather avoid. As he gazed into her hazel eyes, he knew he couldn’t lie to her.
“I like you a lot,” Felix said, his voice ragged. “In and out of bed. I don’t think of you just as a warm body, but as a person whose thoughts I’m intrigued by. When you’re near me, I feel more like myself. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I want to be around you every night. The thought of letting you go is unimaginable. I want more with you. More than kisses in the shadows, more than secret sexual escapades, more than hiding.”
His voice echoed in the room. Had he said too much? Did he sound clingy?
“I feel the same way.” Relief washed over him when her sweet voice spoke.
“You do?”
“Yes. I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s been killing me to keep my feelings a secret. I’m not saying we should go out and tell everybody, but I want to keep seeing you. I want more than sex. We already have more than sex. I want to be next to you and soak in your comforting presence. I want to make you do things you’d never do with anyone else, take all your firsts, and know that you belong to me.”
“Amara….” His heart felt like it would burst with joy. It had been a long time since Felix had experienced something so uplifting. “Does that mean you want to be in a relationship?”
“An exclusive relationship,” she confirmed. “I don’t think I can share you.”
Her eyes were downcast, but she felt her feelings like they were his own. He couldn’t think of sharing her either. What existed between them was so precious to him. He had only recently begun to release how much. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m a loner who can’t engage people in polite conversation. There’s nobody in my life except you.”
He tilted her face up and drank in her lips. She looped her arms around him and kissed him back. Their lips fused together, lit by a mix of joy and passion. Her mouth claimed his fiercely, palms cradling his jaw. He lost himself in her. His heart was so much lighter, now that he’d said what he was feeling out loud. He buried his worries in her mouth, kissing her harder, eliciting a moan from her lips.
Amara broke the kiss, coming up for air. “Whoo…” She exhaled. “I think we should stop doing this at work if we don’t want to get caught.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you at my house tonight.”
“I’ll be there after work.” Amara left, gathering the papers, and he sagged with his back to the desk.
He couldn’t wait for tonight.
* * *
Several hours later, they were at his house. Although he had promised to teach her to play cards, Felix was busy cooking dinner. It was part of his daily routine, and Felix was a creature of routine. Amara had adapted herself to it, curling on the couch with a book from his collection. Felix had accumulated a few novels and manuals over the years, thanks to his career as a spy.
“Your lips are as beautiful as a rose, but your words are like thorns.” Amara snorted in laughter. “What kind of poetry have you been reading, Felix?”
“Clearly not the romantic sort.” He turned to her and smiled, almost done with dinner. She looked so right in his house, seated on the faded cotton, at home. Her hair was let down, and the first few buttons of her shirt loosened. She’d worn loose brown pants to work that day, that now clung to her crossed legs.
“Listen to this: Your beauty is like summer rain. Filling up the earth one moment, then gone.” She was enjoying herself. “That was rather depressing. I’m glad there are people who are worse with words than I am. Maybe I should write poetry too.”
Her laughter rang out, making the whole place come to life. The mundane things that depressed him acquired a new meaning when she was here. Felix stirred the pot, his dinner stew almost done. He cut and placed warm bread pieces on their plates. At moments like this, he was glad he’d chosen not to hire a housekeeper. This way, they could enjoy some privacy.
“I’d love to see what you come up with.” Turning off the flame, he began to plate dinner.
“I was joking. Do you think I could really write romantic poetry?”
“If you set your mind to it, you can do anything. I’ve never known anyone as determined as you.”
Having scooped enough stew into their plates, he brought it to the dinner table. Amara sat still on the couch, watching his movements. When he set the plate down, she broke out of her trance.
In a low voice, she said, “My mother used to say the same thing. She believed I could do anything if I decided on it.”
“She was right,” he said. “I don’t think anyone else could’ve convinced me to have a secret affair, let alone turn it into a relationship.” She moved behind him, inhaling the aroma of food. Her arms came around him in a back hug. Her chin nestled in the crook of his shoulder, observing the steam rising from their plates. Felix’s face flushed. Not that she could see it.
