My pulse quickened. There was nothing overt in his words, but…
The way he said them.
The way he looks at me.
It didn’t feel like a general offer.
“Perhaps,” I said. My voice sounded more raw than I’d intended, but I didn’t look away this time.
Neither did Stefan. He locked gazes with me, and something shifted. The space between us felt different. Charged.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The noise of the café drifted back in around us—cups, voices, the low hum of conversation—but it felt oddly distant.
Stefan broke the silence first. “How long are you in Berlin?”
I blinked. “I’m not sure.” I managed a smile. “My friend says I can stay as long as I like.”
“Good,” Stefan said.
I frowned. “Good?”
“Yes.” Stefan’s eyes sparkled. “It means you have time to see the city properly.”
“I was planning to. At some point.”
“Planning and doing are not always the same thing.”
I chuckled. “That’s probably true.”
He opened his mouth, but then shut it as a man in shorts and a tank top strolled over to us, carrying a little dog in his arms. Stefan rose and they hugged. When they broke apart, Stefan gestured to him. The stranger appeared to be a similar age, a large man with well- developed arms and a broad chest. The dog was tiny by comparison, a fluffy little thing who seemed to be shivering.
“This is my friend, Dieter.” Then Stefan introduced me.
“Delighted to meet you.” Dieter’s voice was deep and gravelly—and somehow familiar. He handed the dog’s leash to Stefan. “Take care of Gertrude while I go get coffee. She knows you. And you know the rules.”
Stefan nodded. He made no sign of reaching for the little dog, but let her sit at his feet.
Once Dieter was inside the cafe, I glanced at Stefan. “What are the rules?” I murmured.
“He hates it when people start stroking Gertrude without asking. She’s a nervous girl. The only one who touches her is Dieter.”
I stared at the door to the café.
“What’s wrong?” Stefan asked in a low voice.
“I… I can’t get it out of my head that I know him from somewhere. Not his face—well, maybe a little—but definitely his voice.”
Dieter returned, pulled an empty chair over to us, then picked Gertrude up and sat her in his lap. He pulled a packetof cigarettes from the pocket of his shorts. “Are you okay if I smoke?” he asked me.
I waved my hand. “I don’t mind.” We were outdoors, after all.
Dieter lit up, then leaned back in his chair. “I haven’t seen you here before.” One hand rested on Gertrude’s neck, a gentle connection.
I smiled. “This is my first visit.” I sat and listened as Dieter and Stefan chatted in German, and the more Dieter spoke, the more convinced I became.
Finally, I had to say something.