I had no idea what the day would bring, but whatever came my way, I wanted it.
Downstairs, I could hear Karl moving about the apartment, the faint clink of crockery, the low murmur of the radio. The normal sounds of a day beginning.
And yet nothing about this felt normal.
I pushed the covers back, sat up, and swung my legs out of bed. I ran my fingers through my hair.
“What exactly are you doing?” I muttered under my breath.
I already knew the answer.
I was waiting for the kiss I’d backed away from.
And for everything that might follow if I didn’t stop it this time.
By the time I stepped into the kitchen, Karl had already set out coffee. He glanced up as I entered, taking me in with a single, assessing look.
“You’re up early,” he observed.
“So are you.”
“I’malwaysup early,” he said mildly. “You, on the other hand…”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, even though I already had a fairly good idea where he was going.
He smiled. “You forget, Mr. Walsh, how many times you missed the start of my lectures because you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed.”
“That was years ago.”
Karl tilted his head. “And you, of course, have undergone a miraculous transformation since then.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. No. I’m still terrible at mornings.”
He folded his arms. “So why the sudden enthusiasm for them?”
I reached for the coffee. “I couldn’t sleep.”
Karl arched his eyebrows. “Shall I guess why?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
He seemed undeterred. “So itwasa man. Stefan, perchance?”
I choked on my coffee. “Karl?—”
“What?” he said innocently. “Berlin is very efficient. It gets straight to the point.”
I shook my head, trying—and failing—not to smile. “It’s not like that.”
Karl’s expression turned thoughtful. “No? Then it will be.” He leaned back, watching me over the rim of his cup. “You’re seeing him again today, I think you said.”
“Yes.”
“And how are you feeling about that?”
I hesitated. “Curious.”
“Only curious?”