19. CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I clutched desperately to the last details of my beautiful dream, wishing I could hold on to them forever as the brightness of morning worked to banish them.
Gentle fingers that had run down my arms, sending a chilled thrill of goosebumps along my skin.
The feel of taut muscles beneath my fingertips.
A gentle gasp of breath upon my neck, followed by a swift, tender kiss.
His face cupped between my palms before I released him and searched further.
My body, my mind, my blood sang through my veins—I felt alive and lazy all at once. My skin still tingled, a deep-set satisfaction in my belly, every part of me utterly at ease.
I flung my hands out to the side in a stretch, and the heel of my left hit something both soft and solid.
“Ow!”
I stopped moving, frozen for a few seconds, before cracking open an eye.
Emil lay beside me, bathed in the glow of the sunrise. One of his arms was trapped beneath my shoulders, his free hand rubbing at a point high on his cheek. He squinted at me, eyes sliding to my mouth, which had dropped open in a thunderclap moment of shock.
“Good morning to you, too,” he grumbled.
My mouth worked as reality fought to sink in. “Did we…?”
No, it had been a dream!
“Yes,” he answered.
My brain denied it at first, but then it all came flooding back.
After the bathhouse we had returned here…it was all a blur of clothes, soft caresses, and…
I blushed.
Crinkled package remnants from chocolate nut bars, chips, cookies, and paper cups stained with red wine lingered on the bedside table, all courtesy of the downstairs corner shop Emil had run to for our makeshift dinner. We’d talked until after sunset before we’d…
My cheeks must’ve been crimson by now. I peeked up at him from behind my hands, which were clasped over my mouth in a demure gesture, one they had no right to after all their enthusiastic wandering well into the wee hours.
His eyebrows raised as he stopped rubbing where I’d smacked him below his eye. This time, he didn’t hesitate before bringing his fingers to my jaw, running a thumb under my lower lip.
“Really?” I breathed, finally believing it.
“I think so, but if punching me is any indication, maybe I did something wrong.”
I laughed, hiding shyly again behind my hands. “I’m sorry!”
“Now she says it.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure if I was really awake.” I pouted playfully. “There’d be no need to admit I’d punched Dream You to Real You. And who knows? Perhaps Dream You had done something stupid.”
“So,” he murmured curiously, “real me didn’t do anything stupid last night?”
I shook my head, dropping my hands and turning onto my side. “ Nope. If last night really did happen, then everything was very, very right.”
His small smile spoke volumes. “Is that so?” He stroked the backs of his fingers down my cheek, tucking a wayward strand of hair away from my forehead. I snatched his hand before it could retreat, pressing a long kiss into his palm.
“Do you still doubt it?” I asked against his skin, only raising my eyes to stare at him through my lashes.
“Maybe not.” His hand lifted out of mine, clasping my chin between a rough thumb and forefinger, guiding me toward him for a soft kiss. That softness transformed, becoming deep and prolonged. His warmth pressed against me as I drew closer without thinking. Like magnets.
The hotel phone buzzed insistently from the nightstand. We jumped apart at the same time at the intrusive sound. Emil flipped over, answering it and listening briefly before hanging up.
“Miss Roth?” His hair slid silkily across the pillow as he turned, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Your wake-up call.” And, so slowly, his teeth grazed the edge of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
I whimpered. “They deserve a huge tip.”
He pulled back. “Why?”
“Because this is the best service I’ve ever received.”
He smirked, drawing me in close.
Eventually, the yearning to explore lured us from bed. Except for Paris, Munich was the biggest city by far that I’d visited on this trip. It was easy to get lost in its pristine streets. In the afternoon, we wandered through the Munich Residenz, a former royal palace and now a museum. I forced him to take pictures of me pretending to summon my butler and resting against the red-velvet rope barrier like it was my private lounge.
His mouth hung open innocently as he stared at the giant frescoes in one grand space, though it transformed into a smile when he shifted and caught me taking candids of him. The image I captured last as he turned made my heart stop. His eyes, lit with the soft light in the room, looked strikingly right into the camera, accompanied by his gentle tilt of a grin.
I glanced up from the photo.
His brows raised in question. “Good?”
I held the phone to my chest and nodded. This one I was keeping just for me.
By early evening, we ambled back to the hotel, punch-drunk from a full day. Outside our separate doors, we paused, the playful look in his eyes surely a match to my own.
“I’ll host tonight,” was all he said before using his key and stepping inside.
The Guinness World Records book should add a new entry for how quickly I dumped my bag and changed. In what seemed like seconds, I was ready. My hair was pulled up into a messy bun, my teeth were brushed, and I sported my usual evening T-shirt and sweats. I rushed over to his room like a kid excited about a sleepover. When he answered the door, the TV played a faint piano melody through the otherwise quiet room. He’d opened the windows, letting in the gentle breeze.
“Romantic,” I teased, sliding in past him, and he gave a lopsided grin.
Next to the window, I spied a bottle of wine and two plastic cups, along with a random assortment of snack items.
“Where did this come from?”
“The downstairs shop again.” He moved around me to grab the bottle. “Wine?”
I nodded. “But I was only gone for a second.”
“I was quick.” The end of his sentence was accentuated by the squelching pop of the cork. He poured and handed me a glass as he asked, “What was your favorite thing we saw today?”
I took a sip as I thought. “The clock in the square,” I decided, remembering how the miniature Bavarian figures had danced in a circle to celebrate the start of a new hour. “You?”
His thumb traced invisible patterns up and down the ridges of his cup. “The modern part of town. I think it can be easy to stay in the historical areas of cities and only enjoy what it has been, but it’s nice to see what it has become, too.”
I pictured the modern neighborhoods we’d ventured through, including their giant street murals and stark architecture. He was right. It was quite the contrast to the old part of town. Two sides of the same coin, past and present.
We kept our pact, helping one another see the city through each other’s eyes, talking about this and that until dusk fell. When the snacks and drinks had run dry, we’d climbed into Emil’s bed and grown quiet. His nose nuzzled against my temple, and I tilted back for a kiss. It was slow and gentle, a balance to the fervent energy of last night.
Despite what had happened, the same sense of ease we’d cultivated remained. There was still that calmness and comfort in one another’s presence, even in the silences. What was different was the invisible little string that had formed between us. I could feel where it had taken hold in my chest, and it tugged whenever he moved too far away, so I tried to not let him.
My guess was that it was the same for him because, after our final kiss of the evening, his arm brought me in closer, neither of us willing to break an inch of contact. With the taste of his lips lingering on my tongue, I rested my head on his shoulder as we lay there together, simply drinking in the sounds of Munich until we fell asleep.
I bolted upright the next morning with a sliver of sunlight slapping me across the face. We’d never set an alarm or arranged for a wake-up call, and I yelped when I saw the time.
Emil practically jumped out of bed at the sound.
We barely made it before checkout, lugging our backpacks hurriedly down to the lobby. I blushed as I handed over our room keys, electrically aware of Emil’s proximity, the brush of his arm against mine, the way his hand rested against my back as we exited. Once in the car, my head cleared a little as I focused on the task of navigating out of the city.
The lively streets of Munich were soon behind us. Farm land appeared between long stretches of tree-shrouded freeways, the odd castle glimpsed off in the distance as we wove from Germany into the Czech Republic. The occasional dull sections of the drive were becoming my bread-and-butter time to share all the details of our journey with Gail. Today, I wrote with glee.
“What did you tell her?” He cleared his throat as I signed it, nervously eyeing my smirk. I folded the note with a flourish.
“About what?” I toyed.
“Mallory,” he warned.
I slid the paper into my purse with a secretive grin. “You’ll never know.”
After reassuring Emil that I’d spared Gail the majority of the horny details, I busied myself looking for a place to stay, but everything kept coming up full or outrageously pricey unless I searched far from the old town center. Finally, I found one that seemed promising, but my face fell when I looked closer at the listing.
“Oh,” I murmured, then let out a frustrated, “Ugh!”
“What?” Emil’s knuckles paled against the steering wheel at my shout.
“This one’s a group hostel.” I flopped the phone down into my lap.
He laughed, his fingers relaxing. “I don’t care.”
“But it’s a dorm and there aren’t bunks together.”
“We can share.” The sentence ended with a slight question.
Deep down, my stomach clenched pleasantly. “But the beds are tiny. Have you forgotten the last time?” Even with the evidence to prove my point, my counter was weak, no heart in it.
“It’ll be fine for a few nights.”
“We’ll be on top of one another.”
His lips quirked. “Does that sound bad?”
My initial knot of worry evaporated with my coy smile. “No, I guess not.”