Julie's Butterfly by Greta Milán

the warehouse, ostensibly to oversee my work,” explained Bastian.
    “Would you believe it?” said Felix with a shake of his head. He looked at Bastian inquisitively. “And?”
    “And nothing,” replied Bastian.
    Felix sighed. “What have you gone and done?”
    Bastian was not the least bit surprised by his friend’s question; Felix could read him like a book. “She asked me to take my gloves off,” he said hesitantly. The memory of it sent a shudder down his spine.
    “Smart girl,” said Felix. “Did you?”
    Bastian frowned, which was confirmation enough for Felix.
    “How did she react?”
    “She wasn’t as shocked as I’d expected, but she could hardly conceal her pity.”
    Felix stared bleakly at him. “You freaked out again.”
    “You should have seen her face,” said Bastian, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I ran full tilt out of the building,” he admitted.
    “She showed you sympathy and you panicked.”
    “I don’t want anyone’s sympathy,” muttered Bastian bitterly. “Least of all hers.”
    “If you want her to think of you as a strong man, you have to act like one, buddy.”
    “I know that. But it makes no difference anyhow, because I won’t be seeing her again.”
    “Why don’t you call her?”
    “I don’t have her number.”
    “And in this age of communication, it’s impossible to track it down,” said Felix.
    “She wouldn’t be interested in an explanation anyway, not after I behaved like such an idiot.”
    “So you’re going to give up without even trying?”
    Bastian was silent.
    Felix ate a few mouthfuls of his supper before giving Bastian a searching look. “Elena’s sure to be able to get her number from Isabelle. What do you say?”
    “I say it’s a bad idea.”
    “Not for you,” grinned Felix. “For me.”
    Bastian frowned at him.
    “Well, if you don’t want her . . . ,” said Felix lightly. “I’ll take what I can get.” He pointed his fork in Bastian’s direction. “If you’re telling me there’s a lovely brunette out there who’d look at my situation with more sympathy than revulsion, then I’d certainly like to meet her.”
    “You really do have a sick sense of humor.”
    “That was no joke,” said Felix seriously. “There’s a reason we never talk about women. And it’s not because—unlike you—I don’t want a partner.”
    Felix watched Bastian’s face grow pale as he scraped the last forkful of mashed potato into his mouth.
    “I can’t even scratch my head without hurting myself,” said Felix flatly. “So if there really was a woman who had no fear of touching a butterfly child, then just give me her number.”
    “Go on then if you insist.” Bastian made a self-conscious effort to appear unconcerned by leaning back and folding his arms.
    Felix smiled dreamily. “Nothing could be as comforting as the gentle embrace of a lovely woman. I have to admit I prefer blondes, but when it comes down to it, I’m really not fussy.”
    Bastian set his jaw and gave his friend a dark look.
    Felix lay back and called out, “Elena!”
    “Coming,” replied his sister.
    “All right,” said Bastian, acknowledging defeat with a sigh. “You’ve made your point. I’ll get in touch with her and explain. But I’ll do it my own way.”
    Elena appeared in the doorway and gave Felix an inquiring look. “Do you need something?”
    A satisfied smile spread across Felix’s face as he looked over at his sister. “Is there any more mashed potato?”

C HAPTER 11
    Around noon on Saturday, Bastian was staring out his living room window, watching the birds swooping through the sunny spring air.
    He had promised Felix that he would explain his situation to Julie, and—totally incidentally—he felt compelled to not leave things hanging with her. But he had no idea how to carry out this intention. He could hardly call her up and tell her on the phone why he had freaked out like that the day before. Besides, he felt an