“No. Do you need some?”
Something to loosen me up would have been great right about then. It seemed like every time I saw Felix, I was accidentally bumping or hitting or throwing something at the guy. Memories of o’dark thirty returned then—me jacking off to fantasies involving Felix’s fine backside. If I became any more embarrassed at that moment, my skin was going to spontaneously combust.
“I’ll go get your order,” the mountaineer said to Felix.
“Thanks, George.” Felix took out his wallet and glanced at me again. “I heard through the grapevine that you’re the school’s new band director.”
I nodded.
“First day?”
“Yup.”
“Enjoying it?”
“Yeah. I mean, if hallway gossip is gospel, then I’m a ‘cool’ teacher.”
Felix was still staring at his wallet. “I want to apologize about last night.”
“Apologize? You don’t—”
“No, I do.” But he fell silent.
I drummed my fingers on my thighs, tilted my head a bit to catch Felix’s expression, and waited. His mouth worked as if every word wasn’t quite right and he bit it back, only to try again and fail.
George returned to the counter and set a bag down in front of Felix. “Here you are.”
“Thank you,” Felix said distractedly, quickly handing George a card.
As he took a moment to sign a receipt, I once again gave my drink my full attention. The minty dark chocolate mixed with the more earthy flavor of cinnamon was a surprisingly good combination. I licked goopy marshmallow off my lips as Felix picked up his takeout.
“Have a good night, Bo,” he said.
I turned, quickly wiping my mouth on my sleeve. “You too.”
Felix hesitated one beat too long before he nodded, pulled his scarf up over his mouth, and walked to the door.
I watched until headlights brightened the restaurant windows and Felix’s car pulled away. When I spun around in the seat again, George had his huge hands on the countertop and he was looking right at me.
I smiled. Uh—shit. How awkward had that moment been, and did George pick up on my gay vibes? Crap, crap, cr—
He slid a business card forward. “I’ll tell ya,” he started, shaking his head, “you city boys are going to run off with all of Lancaster’s single men at this rate.”
I blinked and cocked my head. “Come again?”
He inclined his head at the card. “Felix gave it to me.”
I reached out and snatched it.
Snowy Ridge Apple Orchard
Locally owned, locally grown
Felix Hansen, proprietor
“Because he couldn’t say anything on his own,” George continued. “And I may not look the part, but I’m somewhat of a matchmaking fairy godfather around these parts.”
I looked up at George. “I don’t get it.”
