Chapter 167: Hiding everything from him

He gulped the water, setting it down. "Oh please. You're overreacting."

I was silent as he moved closer to me. There was something going on, I just knew it. This was so unlike him, but what explanation could there be other than the one he gave me? There was not a single evidence of wine in the kitchen or the living room, not even a glass.

There was also no signs of painting materials anywhere.

"Did you at least take an Uber here? You didn't drive, did you?" I asked, concerned that he lost track of the alcohol he had ingested when he was with Kent.

"Of course I Ubered home," he said, placing his hand on my shoulders. "Now, let's talk about your painting which I believe is the reason why you're here."

The overwhelming attraction I was feeling for Felix just a few minutes ago had vanished. The excitement was replaced with worry and doubt. Besides, with such a high content of alcohol in his system, sex was the last thing on my mind.

I faked a smiled as he got closer to me, caressing my face.

"It's good to see you. I'm glad you're here," he said, inching his way closer. I kissed him even though I wasn't feeling entirely comfortable. Why was he acting as if he hadn't lied to me seconds ago?

"So, the painting," I said, pulling away. "I just came here to tell you that knowing that you support me means the world to me and that independently of my grade I'll be happy because you like it so much."

"I appreciate the gesture but you and I both know you came here for something more than cute words of reassurance, didn't you?"

His lighthearted state made him go straight to the point. I just chuckled nervously, finding the whole situation bizarre.

"Perhaps," I replied. "But with you like this I think it's better if we wait for Friday."

He huffed in frustration and looped his arms around me. "Oh baby, I'm sorry. If I knew you were coming I wouldn't have gone to Kent's. We can still celebrate your fabulous painting though. I bought your favorite chocolate. Alternatively, the vibrator is fully charged and is yours to use as you please."

Even though he was trying to cheer me up and even make me laugh, everything he was saying was coming through a layer of alcohol and, as I suspected, a layer of lies. If Kent wanted another painting for his collection he would've told David and I.

This was all so strange, I was so confused. Why was he acting this way? Why was he drinking? Why was he lying?

"I'll pass. I need to go home anyway and you need to sober up."

I pulled away from him but he didn't let me go.

"Don't go yet, you just got here!" He whined. "I want to hear about your painting, your thought process, your inspiration, your interpretation, how it's going to link with the other pieces you're creating-"

"Well, I want to tell those things to sober Felix," I replied, wanting to sound playful but sounding annoyed. He noticed this and let me go, giving up on persuading me.

"Blair, hey, I didn't know I'd be seeing you today okay?" He said as I walked towards the door. "If I knew you were coming I wouldn't have drank-"

I let my shoulders fall in defeat. "It's not about the drinking Felix, it's about not knowing what's going on. You're acting weird. Why did you lie in the first place? Why couldn't you tell me you were with Kent from the start?"

He sighed as I opened the front door. "It's complicated. I just told you what happened today."

"It doesn't sound that complicated to me. I thought we told each other everything."

He leaned against the doorframe as we stared at each other.

"I swear I'm not lying. I drink with Kent often when we paint together, it's nothing out of the ordinary. I just don't want you to worry, that's all." He said with sincerity. All I could see behind those eyes was the alcohol coursing through his veins. "Friday it'll be different, I promise you."

He kissed my forehead tenderly as a goodbye kiss. He gave me space to walk past him and I bowed my head as I walked out the door. He stood by the door until I disappeared into the elevator. I sighed in relief when the doors shut.

What the fuck was going on?

I looked down at my stained fingertip. That blue, the darkness of it, the texture, the smell... If Kent was really going to create a new painting for his exhibition so last minute, how was that blue going to tie in with the whole theme? He had never used it before, unless he had used it to mix with other paints. In addition, Kent never drank when he painted. Painting for him was work, but maybe when he was with Felix he let loose. They were best friends after all. Maybe Kent wanted to create a special piece with Felix independently of the exhibition's theme.

Why did Felix try to cover up the fact that he was with Kent in the first place? Nothing made sense, and I was so worried.

During my commute home, I couldn't stop thinking about Felix: his lying, his demeanor, his drinking. All I wanted to was call Kent, but my embarrassment from the last time I saw him kept me from dialing his number. Besides, what would I even ask? Hey, were you with my professor this afternoon? The one you saw me kiss? There was simply no way of me verifying that they had been together.

My mind kept going in circles trying to put the pieces together. Maybe I was overreacting and overthinking. Worst of all, I wasn't trusting Felix. I knew it was wrong to feel that way towards him when he never made me feel like I couldn't trust him, but there was no denying the heaviness of the air in his apartment, the hollow look in his eyes, his distance, his unconvincing lie.

And then there was the fact that the paint was wet. The amount on his cheek was so small that it would have for sure dried up on Felix's Uber ride. The paint was so fresh, in fact, that it seemed like it had been used just moments before. But that couldn't be true, could it? Felix couldn't possibly have been painting, right? I didn't see anything in his apartment, not even a single paintbrush.

Unless he was hiding it from me.