"Sure, why not?" I said, watching as him get me a mug. He handed it over, his eyes lingering on me, and I could see the memories flash through his mind. "Felix, about earlier . . .”
"I was as surprised as I’m sure you were,” he said, cutting me short. He seemed apologetic for his actions, while I felt the same way, especially with what I had to tell him. “I’m not normally one to be so quick in my affections."
"Me either, but there is a problem. You see, earlier, when Francois and I went to gather wood . . .”
"You kissed him as well?" Felix asked, unsurprised. "Francois has more of a honeyed tongue than me, that’s for sure, so I’m not surprised. I think it’s because he’s more playful. I’ve been accused of being too uptight, and more than once called an arrogant ass, sometimes deservedly."
"Uhm, it was a little more than a kiss," I replied, blushing. Felix looked at me levelly, not answering for a moment while he took a deep drink of his tea. He must have had a throat of leather, the tea was still steaming. "I've been lying back there, torn over what has happened today. When we kissed earlier, I did it because I wanted to. When Francois and I had sex, it was because I wanted to. Now, I'm lying in that bed wanting both of you to just join me and keep me warm, to feel both of you. And I'm asking myself why, why? I've never been in this situation before of being attracted to two men, two brothers of all things, at the exact same time, and certainly not so soon after meeting them."
“Maybe it’s Stockholm Syndrome?" Felix asked in light humor, setting his mug aside on the floor next to him and stretching his long legs towards the fire. "You know, where the hostages end up identifying and falling for their kidnappers? I've read that some have even written love letters to their kidnappers for years after they are incarcerated."
"No way," I said, shaking my head. I took a sip of the tea, and found it light and herbal, if still so hot I could barely tolerate it. "First off, isn't that supposed to happen after a long time or lots of stress? You two have been so relaxed with me that I feel more like a houseguest than a hostage."
"Thanks, I guess. If I can ever retire from theft, I know I have a good future as a hotel owner," Felix remarked. He stretched his arms and interlaced his fingers behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. “Maybe a small bed and breakfast in the Alps?"
"Felix, I'm serious!" I hissed. “What’s happening to me?”
He unlaced his fingers from behind his head before relaxing them on his chest, studying me curiously. "I could ask you the same question. I've been sitting here after Francois fell asleep, unable to get you off my mind. I should be thinking about any of a dozen other things, including just what the hell I'm going to do if my business partner tries to pull anymore shit with getting us out of Los Angeles. I should be trying to figure a way to turn this job into more profit, and how I'm going to get out of the country. Instead, I keep thinking of how your hands felt holding mine, and how your lips tasted when you kissed me. Even now, after telling me that you and Francois have been intimate, I can’t feel anger. Instead, only a sense of perhaps karma."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Have you two competed for women before?"
Felix shook his head. "No, but remember, I am King. He is the current heir apparent, but Francois is only my half-brother. Our grandfather had two daughters, remember?"
Felix's words struck me dumb as the implications sank in. "So you and Francois are only half brothers?"
"As well as cousins," Felix added. "It’s led to some complicated things within the Rom culture roots, but Father, to his credit, raised both of us as equals, his two sons that he loved. I’ve tried my best to continue that with Francois as we have grown older and become adults. But sometimes I have to act as King and not just as his brother."
I nodded my head. "It’s a strange, interesting world that you live in, Felix."
Felix nodded and picked up his mug from the floor, finishing his tea in another long pull of the herbal mixture. "So what can I do to help you, Jordan?"
I looked over at Francois, who was lying on the couch. The fire wasn't much, but it was warmer than the bedroom. "Can I sleep out here on the floor? I promise I won't try to run away. I just need to be warmer, and I’d prefer to not be alone.”
Felix considered it for only a moment then nodded. "Let me help you with the blankets."
I smiled. “Thanks, but if you steal these in the night, we’re going to fight. You may be the King, but I need my blankets.”
* * *