Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Kieran
I woke before the alarm, and for a moment, I didn’t know why.
Then I remembered.
Berlin.
Stefan.
Today.
I lay there for a second, staring at the ceiling, aware of an unfamiliar sensation creeping through me.
Anticipation.
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’m always up 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 it was a 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?”
I considered that. “No,” I admitted. “Not only.”
Apprehensive. Nervous.
And yeah, excited.
Karl flashed me a knowing smile. “Do yourself a favour and try not to overthink things.”
I shot him a look. “You and Stefan should compare notes.”
Karl’s eyes twinkled. “Ah. So he said that too.”
I took a sip of coffee, avoiding his gaze.
He chuckled. “Well, that’s promising.”
I frowned. “What is?”
“That you might actually listen this time.”
I snorted, but didn’t argue. There was little point. He wasn’t wrong.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at the screen.
Stefan: Want to meet me for coffee at Romeo before our days starts? They open at 8.
“I don’t have to ask who that’s from, do I?”
I jerked my head up. Karl was grinning.
“I think I’ll skip breakfast.” I lurched to my feet and headed for my room to get ready.
“Do I assume you won’t be here for dinner again?” Karl’s wry chuckle followed me up the stairs. “Just let me know.”
That sent a pang through me. A good guest keeps his host informed.
“I’ll let you know what my plans are—when I have some.” As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to decide if my clothes gave off the right vibe, Karl’s voice floated up the stairwell.
“Might be an idea to take your toothbrush.”
A shiver trickled through me. Great. Put that idea in my head, why don’t you?
Then I grabbed my bag.
There was nothing wrong with being prepared.
As I rounded the corner, I glanced at my watch. 8:05.
I snorted. Sure, because arriving five minutes late definitely makes me look less eager. I crossed the street to the café. The tables outside Romeo were already set out, chairs neatly arranged, but still empty. The street hadn’t quite woken up yet.
I walked up to the door, took a deep breath, then stepped inside. Warmth wrapped around me immediately, the air permeated with the smell of coffee, fresh bread, and something sweet underneath it.
I spotted Stefan at once.
He was seated with his back to the wall, absently stirring the contents of a mug as if he had all the time in the world. Then he looked up.
Straight at me.
My chest grew tight.
He smiled. “Good morning.” His voice was the same, low and even.
“Morning.”
“You’re late.”
I glanced at my watch. “Five minutes.”
“It feels like a lifetime.” His eyes twinkled. He took a sip from his mug. “Did you sleep?”
I hesitated. “Eventually.”
“I see.” His gaze held mine over his mug. “I hope I had something to do with that.”
Heat flushed through me, but I didn’t back down. “You might have.”
Stefan set his coffee down. “Good.”
That single word was enough to send a shiver tripping down my spine.
“I haven’t eaten yet,” he informed me. “I thought I’d let you arrive first.”
“That’s considerate of you. Not to mention patient.” His brow furrowed, and I grinned. “Seeing as you’ve been waiting here a lifetime.”
His lips twitched.
“Let me get breakfast.” I pulled out my phone. “After all, you bought the drinks and dinner last night.”
He didn’t argue. “They have a bagel with salmon and cream cheese. That would be perfect.”
“For me too.” I left him and headed to the counter where an older man was adding sandwiches and rolls to the glass-covered display.
He glanced up as I approached, and gave me a warm smile.
I ordered the bagels, plus a latte, and while he fiddled with the coffee machine, another younger man set two plates on a tray.
Hanging above the glass counter were large lightbulbs, their filaments glowing in rainbow colours. I smiled. “These are great.”
The older man pointed towards the window. “They sell them in that shop across the street.”
I paid with my phone, then carried the tray back to Stefan.
By now, more customers had arrived. Two men sat next to one of the large windows, conversing over coffee and croissants.
Another man was on his phone, his dog at his feet.
One man sat in another window, his attention focused on his laptop.
Some men had braved the cool morning air to sit outside and smoke.
I pulled out the chair facing Stefan and sat. He leaned against the wall, studying me.
I touched my face. “Did I miss toothpaste or something?”
He cocked his head. “You’re different this morning.” When I remained silent, he arched his eyebrows. “And you’re not denying it.”
I didn’t look away. “No, I’m not.”
Stefan took a bite from his bagel, and I followed suit.
“You seemed to be doing a lot of thinking yesterday.”
“Yeah, I was.” If it had been that obvious, there seemed little point in denying it.
He’d have seen right through me anyway.
“And now?”
I locked gazes with him. “Now I’m trying not to.”
His smile reached his eyes. “Good.”
“I’m beginning to think you enjoy using that word.”
Stefan tilted his head. “Which one?”
“Good.”
He gave a small shrug. “I use it when it applies.”
“And when it doesn’t?”
Stefan’s gaze held mine. “Then I say nothing.”
I wrapped my fingers around the mug, welcoming its heat. Suddenly, everything felt a little less steady than it had a moment ago.
I cleared my throat. “And what happens if I don’t do what you expect?”
Stefan didn’t answer immediately. He reached for his own coffee, taking another measured sip before setting it down again.
“That depends on whether you’re doing it for the right reasons.”
My pulse raced. “And what are the right reasons?”
Stefan’s expression didn’t change. “Yours.”
I sipped my coffee, the caffeine barely registering.
Coffee didn’t feel nearly strong enough for the day I was about to have.
I followed Stefan out the door, and the icy morning air felt like a slap compared to the warmth of the café.
He pointed towards the main road. “Let’s head to Nollendorfplatz.”
We started walking, falling easily into step, settling into a rhythm. I was aware of everything again: the people passing us by, the sound of traffic and trains…
And him. Always him.
Our hands moved at the same time, fingers brushing accidentally—then stilling.
I didn’t hesitate. I turned my hand slightly. Beside me, Stefan’s step faltered, and he glanced at me.
I met his gaze. I wasn’t about to pretend or retreat.
Then his hand shifted, a deliberate motion as he closed the space between our fingers, the contact warm and certain.
We kept walking, neither of us commenting on it. After a few steps, Stefan adjusted his grip, the movement subtle, controlled.
“You’re not holding back today,” he said after a minute or two.
I exhaled. “No.”
There was a pause. “Good.”
There it was again, that word.
I glanced at him. “What about you?”
Stefan smiled. “I told you. I don’t ignore things that interest me.”
My pulse notched up. “That’s becoming very clear.”
He walked beside me, steady and unhurried, his hand still wrapped around mine, and as we headed for the station, I realised I wasn’t wondering where this was going anymore.
I was already in it.
Stefan
We stood in front of the Brandenburg Gate, the space opening out around us, tourists gathering, cameras raised, voices carrying in a dozen different languages.
Kieran stared up at the statues on top of the arch, then at its columns.
“Well?” I said after a moment.
He exhaled slowly. “It’s bigger than I thought.”
“They usually are.” I couldn’t resist.
He glanced at me, his lips twitching.
I held out my hand. “Give me your phone. You need proof you were here.”
He handed it over, and I stepped back to take the photo. When I was done, we stood there for a moment, watching the flow of people, the movement, the rhythm of the city at its most visible.
“This is very different from last night,” he said at last.
“How, exactly?”
“It seems less…” He searched for the word.
“Intense?” I suggested.
“That’s one way of putting it.”