“No, I’ll pay for it,” Felix says, rubbing his stomach. It roils slightly, as though he might be falling sick. “Do they take bank transfers?”
“Just credit cards, it looks like.” Kade hesitates, glancing at the screen. “Pay me back some other time.”
“I can’t—”
Felix’s gut heaves, and he swears, clapping a hand over his mouth. He stumbles out of the kitchen, swallowing desperately to delay the inevitable, and his knees barely hit the bathroom floor before his stomach empties itself into the toilet.
His eyes water. He clings onto the cool, glazed ceramic, the sour scent winding up his nose, making him retch further.
Felix barely registers the warm presence next to him, a large hand on his back, fingers smoothing across his forehead. He spits to get rid of the taste in his mouth, blinking his tears back. He hadn’t thought this would happen so soon. It’s been barely a month.
“You need to rest,” Kade says next to him, stroking down his back. He stands, and while Felix clutches the toilet, waiting for the rest of his nausea to pass, Kade fills a mug with water, handing it over.
Felix rinses out his mouth, before gulping down water to ease the sting in his throat. “Ugh.”
“How’re you feeling?” Kade asks, crouching next to him. He rubs down Felix’s neck, brushing off the sweat prickling there. “Need to see the doctor?”
Heat rushes up Felix’s cheeks; he hadn’t even thought about seeing a doctor. It’s not like I need one to tell me I’m pregnant. “No, I’ll be fine.”
“I thought you were doing okay,” Kade says, scrutinizing him. He refills Felix’s mug. “You were eating and all that.”
Felix shrugs. He sucks in deep breaths of air, flushes the toilet, and pushes himself to his feet. Kade stands with him, slipping a warm hand around his elbow to provide support.
His chest tightens. Kade shouldn’t be doing this. Felix will leave with their child, and Kade won’t know it even exists. In fact, Kade should still remember how Felix had rejected him and turn away. Why are you still here? Felix wants to ask. He swallows the question instead. “I think I’ll be fine after this.”
But Kade presses the back of his hand to Felix’s forehead, a cool, firm touch. “You’re not running a fever.”
Of course I’m not. Felix blushes anyway, his heart thudding. He looks at Kade through the bathroom mirror, at his drawn eyebrows, his full lips. Will the baby look like you? I hope it does. He doesn’t notice Kade’s hand until it touches his cheek, Kade’s thumb brushing callused and warm along his lower lip. Felix sucks in a sharp breath.
“C’mon, you should sit down,” Kade murmurs, setting his hand on the small of Felix’s back. Just like when they’d been together. Felix’s breath snags in his throat.
He follows Kade out of the bathroom, and the air in the hallway feels light and fresh in his nose.
You sat with me through the vomit stench, Felix thinks, his throat itchy. He traces the line of Kade’s jaw with his eyes, leaning closer for warmth. In the kitchen, the air smells like bacon and eggs again, and the lingering scent of pine and cedar. His chest tightens.
Kade looks into the fridge. “Want something else to drink? Milk?”
“That’ll be good,” Felix says, looking at their cold cups of coffee, the plates of half-eaten food. “Sorry about breakfast.”
Kade clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t matter.” He empties Felix’s coffee in the sink, rinses the mug, and fills it half-full with milk. “That enough?”
“It’s plenty. Thank you.” Their fingers brush when Kade hands the mug over. Felix cradles it close, sipping.
When Kade settles back into the chair, he taps on the laptop touchpad so the screen lights up again. “Forgot about this,” he says. “I’ll pay for the hosting.”
Felix winces. They don’t even know if the paintings will sell, and whether they’ll break even on the cost of the website. “I’ll pay you back,” he says. “When I get my next paycheck.”
Kade huffs. He signs into the domain hosting site, though, and Felix watches as he taps his credit card details into the payment form. After a minute, the payment goes through. Kade clicks into the site options.
Felix rubs his fingertips against the condensation on his mug, looking down at his abdomen. All he sees is the lumpy white sweater—no visible sign of a child, no belly bump, nothing. Kade will hate him so much when he finds out.
“Why are you doing this?” Felix blurts. Immediately after, he wishes he could snatch his words back. He doesn’t want to hear how Kade’s in this to hurt him somehow. Felix deserves to be beaten up for what he’s done.
Kade’s eyes flicker to meet his. For a long moment, he rubs the silvery chain around his neck. Then he exhales, looking away. “Just because I can, I guess.”
It doesn’t explain anything. Felix bites his lip. Kade’s throat works, and Felix picks at the hem of his sweater, squirming in the silence. He needs money, needs another job to cover all his expenses. The cash he borrowed from Taylor is dwindling—he has about three hundred dollars left.
“I should go,” Kade says, looking at the kitchen window. “Most of the site’s done. Just need to upload the graphics, and then focus on site traffic.”
“Oh.” But he doesn’t want Kade to leave, when his limbs still hang weakly from the morning sickness. “I—I was... wondering if you want to stay? Just for a little while longer?”
Kade doesn’t answer immediately. He purses his lips, as though torn between his decisions. Finally, he takes a deep breath and says, “Yeah, okay. I’ll stay.”
10
Felix
“I just had an idea,” Felix says in the next heartbeat, twisting his fingers together. Kade lingers in his seat, still listening, so he says, “We could sell lemonade on the street corner.”
Kade stares. “Lemonade?”
“It’s going to be hot out, isn’t it?” Felix checks his phone, brightening at the 90-degree weather on the forecast. It’s the beginning
