Daydreamer

Lucy

I sat bolt-upright on the sofa when the banging started, then blinked across at the hallway and my front door beyond it.

“What on earth?” I muttered as I tried to disentangle myself from my duvet cocoon. This place was a bit on the draughty side, to be honest. Period properties were fine if you didn’t mind a cold wind blowing through your living room. I flinched as another series of loud bangs sounded again, and then finally managed to untangle myself.

“Bollocks,” I cursed as I skidded on the polished hallway on the way to the door, falling on my arse again. I couldn’t even blame the heels this time. When I finally made it to the door, I paused and then went up on tiptoes to peer through the peephole. Upon seeing Felix’s handsome but frustrated face on the other side, I stumbled back and fell on my arse for the third time that day. Once down, I decided it was safer to stay there. Maybe if he thought I was out, he might go away. There was no way I was letting him see me dressed like this. Not only was I in the most deeply unsexy and embarrassing pyjamas known to man, but I had a massive fluffy dressing gown over the top, which Emily had reliably informed me made me look like her Aunt Becs (not a flattering comparison, believe me). On my feet were my enormous fluffy pink and purple slippers, my hands were in fingerless gloves, and I had a bobble hat on my head.

“Lucy, I can hear you in there,” Felix said. “Open the door.”

I winced. He was clearly running out of patience. Great, if he didn’t think I was a useless weirdo before, he was definitely going to think it now. With no other choice, I clambered to my feet and resigned myself to my fate. When I got through the many locks and finally pulled open the door, my breath left me in a whoosh. There he was in all his glorious intensity. His stubble was end-of-the-day thick, his tie was loose and his hair was more ruffled than normal. My mouth went completely dry when his dark eyes locked with mine, and then I felt heat rise in my cheeks as he did a full body scan from the bobble on my hat to the fluff on my slippers. His lips twitched once, and that dimple made a very brief appearance before he blanked his expression.

Then he just walked right in, closed the door behind himself and bizarrely started inspecting the locks.

“Er, what are you⁠—”

“Good girl,” he interrupted in a low voice, and my head started to spin. I challenge any heterosexual woman to be unaffected by Felix Moretti calling them a good girl.

“W–what?” I whispered, hoping he’d say it again.

“Good girl for not opening the door right away. Good girl for checking the peephole and good girl for having so many locks on your front door.”

That was four good girls in under a minute. I was going to pass out. Then Felix’s head tilted to the side as he scanned me again.

“Is your heating on the blink?”

“What?” I whispered again, as clearly this was the only word I was capable of saying from now on.

“Your heating,” he said slowly. “It feels warm in here, but you seem to be dressed for some sort of weird polar expedition.”

I pulled my hat off and threw it onto the side table in a sudden movement. It landed on one of my many house plants. Felix watched its progress, and then his gorgeous eyes came back to me. I cleared my throat, hoping I was now able to form words.

“It’s draughty,” I said, just above a whisper, and honestly, I was proud of myself for getting that much information out. Felix Moretti in my flat was not something my brain was able to cope with. Technically, I should have been prepared. The amount of times I’d fantasised about having him here was insane. But Imaginary Felix was nothing compared to the real thing – well, apart from the fact that Imaginary Felix would have ripped my clothes off by now and started doing bad, bad things to me. Then again, Imaginary Lucy would not be looking like Emily’s Aunt Becs. Imaginary Lucy was in a silky sleep-shorts set with lace trim and her imaginary cleavage on show so…

“Lucy,” Felix snapped, and I blinked. Whoops, zoned out again. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

I pulled my lips in between my teeth and widened my eyes. He shook his head in exasperation and stalked past me into the living room. I made a sound no human should make – sort of a cross between an “eep” and a “squee” as I hustled after him. My living room was an absolute state. He stopped by my sofa, looking down at the duvet nest and the many, many books that were littered around it. When he looked back at me his dimple had returned.

“Still read five books at a time then?” he asked. I gave another deeply embarrassing “eep” in reply as my vocal cords had now entirely given up the ghost. He picked up The Hobbit from the top of the nest. “Still keep a Tolkien going while you read the others?”

I shrugged one shoulder in response. It was something I’d done since I was small. I’d read all the Tolkien books early, but then I could never really let them go. So I just re-read them whilst I read other books, sort of like literary palate cleansers. It did mean lugging a lot of weight around in my school bag and made me even more of a target for bullies, but it was just the way I wanted to do things. Felix felt the well-worn cover of The Hobbit for a moment and then carefully placed it back on the duvet. A warm feeling spread out from my chest at the amount of care he took over that book. He knew how much it meant to me. He remembered that much at least.

“Right,” he said, all business now as his dimple disappeared and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m here to take you to the emergency department. No arguments.”

I blinked up at him, anger piercing through the daydream I was starting to have about Felix on top of my duvet nest.

“No,” I said, my voice much stronger than before.

“Lucy, I spoke to your mum and⁠—”

“You spoke to my mother?” If anything was going to throw cold water over my Felix sex daydreams, it was chat about my mum.

“Yes, of course,” Felix said slowly. “She entrusted you to my care and⁠—”

“Oh my God,” I said, anger helping me to fully regain control of my vocal cords. “I am not a child! Felix, I’m twenty-seven years old. I don’t have to be entrusted to anyone.”

He huffed. “Lucy, I would believe you if you weren’t still limping and not getting anything checked out. Instead you’re freezing to death in this flat that… wait a minute.” Felix pulled at his shirt colour and shrugged off his suit jacket. “You said there was a cold draught? It’s bloody boiling in here.”

I scowled at him. “Felix, I feel the cold. Now, did you just come here to lecture me about my post-injury care?”

He rolled up his sleeves and frowned at the extra heater I had blasting the room. “How are you still cold?”

I huffed. Seriously if he was going to come here and boss me about in a deeply non-sexual way, then he could just bugger off so I could go back to fantasising about Imaginary Felix who banged me instead of banging on about going to the hospital and my cold intolerance.

“It’s very, er, orange in here,” he said slowly, taking in the rest of the room. It was my turn to cross my arms over my chest.

“Not all of us like unrelenting grey and white, Felix.”

“Clearly,” he muttered, moving across the room and fingering the leaves of one of my many plants. I enjoyed colour, plants and lots of books in my environment. Organised clutter was how I liked to term it. A bloody mess was more my brother’s description. Felix cleared his throat. “Right, well if you won’t let me take you, then I at least need to look at your ankle.”

I made another deeply embarrassing “eep” sound.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Lucy, look it’s my fault that you twisted your ankle in the first place, by making you wear those shoes. I feel responsible and I need to know that nothing’s broken. Then he moved to me, put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down onto the sofa. It was dangerously close to what Imaginary Felix would do in this situation, and I had another head rush at the feel of his large hands even though it was through three fairly thick layers. Another “eep” escaped when he sat next to me on the sofa, right on the duvet nest, and picked up both my fluff-covered feet from the floor into his lap.

“I just want to say at this point,” I said in a hoarse voice, “that I do not think this is necessary, and—” My lips clamped together in shock as Felix pulled off the fluffy slipper on my injured leg.

“Jesus Christ, how many socks do you have on?” he muttered as he pulled off the thick sock underneath, then the medium-thickness thermal sock under that. When he finally made it to my actual foot he pushed up the leg of my flannel pyjamas and froze. I watched him stare intently at my foot and ankle for a long moment before he swallowed and his jaw clenched tight. “Your feet are really small,” he said, and it was his voice that was hoarse this time. I blinked at him, unsure how to respond to that comment. Was it a compliment? He sounded like he was actually in pain and he still hadn’t moved. “I…” he trailed off and swallowed again. “Lucy, I’m going to touch your ankle now, okay?”

He tore his gaze away from his intense inspection of my lower leg to look up at my face. All I was capable of was a short nod. Then his hands were on me and it felt like my heart might just stop in my chest. One of his large, warm, dry hands enclosed my ankle, pressing on both sides whilst the other tilted my foot from side to side.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice now so hoarse and low he was almost growling.

“N–n–no,” I managed to stutter out. To be honest, I doubted that in that very moment, I was able to feel any pain. I would have probably told him a gunshot wound was fine right then. At my voice, his gaze snapped back up to mine, and our eyes locked. He searched my face for a long moment, his jaw ticking as his hand on my ankle slid up just an inch under my pyjama leg. I sucked in a sharp breath, willing him to go on, feeling like I’d die if he didn’t, but then he blinked rapidly, breaking the connection.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath before he sprang up from the sofa like it was on fire. I was still frozen in my duvet nest, the head rush from having his hands on me making my thoughts fuzzy around the edges. He tore his hand through his hair and took two rapid steps back from me. “Right, right.” He cleared his throat before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Okay, so that’s good. No need to take you to the emergency department. I’ll… er, I’ll see you at work.”

He stalked out of my living room and down the hallway, slamming my front door behind him before I even had time to blink. I sat there frozen for a full minute before a series of sharp knocks sounded from my door again. I managed to make it to the door on wobbly legs just as Felix said, “Lock up, Lucy,” through the wood. I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, and after I’d pushed the last deadbolt in place, I swore I heard “Good girl” again before I heard his footsteps retreat down the steps away from the door.