A tremor rippled through me. “How?”
“By not running from it.”
My breathing hitched. “That sounds too simple.”
“It can be,” he acknowledged. “If you stop trying to get it right.” His gaze held mine. “What do you want right now, Kieran?”
My name on his lips sent a shiver down my spine.
I opened my mouth to answer him, then stopped.
I did know, at least part of it.
“I—”
Stefan leaned back then, breaking the moment before it tipped too far.
“We should eat,” he said.
For a second, I simply looked at him.
Relief came first, sharp and immediate, unwinding something tight in my chest I hadn’t fully registered until it was gone. It was followed almost instantly by another emotion.
Disappointment.
His question still hung there between us, unanswered.
I let out a slow breath, reaching for my glass more for something to do with my hands than anything else.
“Right.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “Yes. Food. Sensible.”
Stefan smiled as if he heard everything I hadn’t said.
The moment shifted again, not gone, merely… waiting.
Chapter Nine
Kieran
The restaurant was another fifteen minutes’walk from the bar.
Berlin felt different at this hour, full but not crowded. Music spilled from open doors, and laughter drifted into the street as people moved between bars and cafés.
We passed one where the bass thudded underfoot, every table packed, bodies spilling out onto the pavement.
“That looks… lively,” I said, glancing inside. I caught a glimpse of the artwork, and my face grew hot. “That’s definitely a gay bar, isn’t it?” The sign in the window—Men Only—caught my eye, along with the rainbow flags strung above the entrance.
“That’s Prinzknecht. Or PK for short.”
“Will we be going there?” I asked.
Stefan glanced at me, and I saw a flicker of amusement. “Very probably, but not tonight.”
There was a fluttery, empty feeling in my stomach that had nothing to do with hunger.
A little further down the street, a name painted neatly above a doorway caught my attention, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“Elefant?” I said.