Chapter Twenty-one
Mikkel
“True love begins when nothing is looked for in return.”
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
S he asked me what my favorite color was, and I froze. No one had ever asked me that before. It wasn’t something I’d thought about, so I said white—simple, easy, the first thing that came to mind.
I had always worn white, surrounded myself with it. White felt safe. White felt like control.
But later, I realized my favorite color was yellow—not just because it was one of hers, but because it reminded me of her.
When I looked at her, I saw yellow—soft, warm, and impossibly beautiful. The kind of yellow that felt like the first touch of sunlight after the longest night. The kind that melted away the cold and whispered promises of something better. Yellow wasn’t just a color. It was how she made everything brighter.
How she made me feel alive.
Before her, my life had been routine. Predictable. Monotonous. Then, everything changed. I didn’t just see her— I felt her . Like sunlight breaking through a sky I hadn’t even realized was gray. And she wasn’t just a fleeting brightness. She was a constant light.
The next morning, soft sunlight streamed through my curtains, pulling me from sleep. I rubbed my eyes, reached for my phone, and dialed Abigail’s number. My heart fluttered with every ring until her face appeared on the screen, her radiant smile and messy hair making the morning feel even warmer.
“Hey,” she greeted, her voice soft, wrapping around me like warmth itself.
“Hey,” I echoed, smiling back. God, she was beautiful. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, not at all,” she assured me, her eyes sparkling. “I was just organizing some things.”
“What are you doing today?”
Her lips parted slightly, hesitating before she spoke. “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over and spend the day with me.” She exhaled softly, almost nervous. “I could use a break from organizing, and… it’d be nice to see you.”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’d love that.”
Her brows knit together slightly. “Only if you’re not… busy. I don’t want to interrupt your day or anything.”
I shook my head, smiling. “I’m never too busy for you.”
A soft blush crept across her cheeks, her smile turning shy. “Okay, then. I’ll see you soon?”
“Soon,” I promised, already itching to be with her.
“Tell me you’ve got good news,” Arnoldo said the moment I stepped into the glass-walled conference room at Reyes he acted on it.
Once in my room, I quickly got ready—shower, hair, makeup—and slipped into the outfit, smoothing the corset top over my skin. The mini skirt fit like a dream, and the boots were the perfect finishing touch.
I turned in the mirror, admiring the look, and for a few seconds, just stood there, savoring how good it felt to be seen like this and how great I looked.
I stepped out, smoothing my skirt, and spotted him by the window. His white open-collared shirt revealed a bit of his skin, and his dark jeans fit perfectly.
When he turned, his eyes widened, and a stunned, almost helpless look crossed his face as he took me in from head to toe.
“You’re…” He paused, clearing his throat as he tried to find the words. “Wow. You’re beautiful. No— gorgeous . Stunning. Just…wow. Eres tan jodidamente hermosa. ” 47
I bit my lip, smiling despite not knowing what that meant. “You’re making me blush, Mikkel.”
“Good,” he said quickly, his voice slightly breathless. He took a step closer, his eyes locked on mine. “You deserve to know how incredible you look.”
“Thank you.” The warmth spread from my chest to my cheeks. “Sorry if I took so long. This was unexpected.”
“ Never apologize for that,” he said firmly. “I’d wait forever if it meant seeing you.”
His words sent a chill through me, but before I could respond, he added, “Leave your wallet, by the way.”
I blinked at him, confused. “Why?”
He gave me a look, the kind that left no room for argument. “You don’t need to bring any money; you’re out with me.”
My lips twitched, but I relented, setting it on the counter. “Okay.”
He grinned, offering his arm. “Shall we?”
As we walked to his car, his hand lightly on my lower back, I tried to guess where he might be taking me. He hadn’t given me any hints, well, one, but that was impossible at this point. My curiosity gnawed at me, but I held back from bombarding him with questions.
The city lights blurred past as we drove, the hum of the engine soothing. It wasn’t until we pulled into the parking lot that my suspicions kicked into overdrive. My lungs stilled when I read the sign.
“No fucking way,” I blurted, turning to him.
He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “Hm?”
I gestured wildly at the venue. “The outfit. The venue. Mikkel, are we going to see Lana?”
He smirked, pulling two VIP tickets from the glove compartment. “We’re going to see Lana.”
I gawked at him, my pulse racing. My eyes darted between the tickets and his face, trying to process what was happening. “I’m going to have a heart attack. You…this…oh my gosh!”
He reached over, taking my hand and squeezing it gently. “Breathe, Red. Let’s go. We’ve got floor seats.”
Floor seats. I was going to melt.
He climbed out first, opening my door with a steady hand, and we walked toward the entrance. Grinning, I followed him through the crowd, his hand firmly on my waist, guiding me. When we reached our seats, I nearly teared up—front and center, the best view in the house.
“Mikkel,” I breathed, turning to him. The words I wanted to say eluded me, so I just stared, hoping he’d understand what I couldn’t express.
He smiled, his expression softer now, and leaned in close enough that I could feel his breath against my ear. “Anything for you.”
The concert started with an explosion of lights and sound, and the crowd erupted in cheers. From the first note, I was completely swept up in it, singing along with the songs I’d memorized years ago.
Mikkel didn’t jump and shout, but I could tell he was enjoying it in his own way. His eyes never left me for long, and whenever I glanced at him, he’d smile—a real, genuine smile that made my heart ache in the best way.
At one point, I joined a group of strangers singing along to “Born to Die,” swaying with them as if we’d known each other forever. Mikkel captured it all, his phone held steady as he took videos and pictures of me.
When I returned to him, breathless and exhilarated, he wrapped an arm around me and leaned in close. “You’re having fun?”
“More than fun,” I replied, my head resting against his shoulder. “This is perfect. ”
All night, he spoiled me, making sure I had anything I wanted—a drink, a snack, a souvenir. By the time the concert ended and we stepped outside, I was still on a high, practically floating.
I turned to him, my smile so wide it hurt. “This was the best night of my life.”
“Seeing you happy is worth everything, Red.”
His words struck deep, warmth blooming in my chest. I looked away, blinking fast. How did he always know what to say—make me feel treasured?
We walked on, his hand steady in mine. I glanced at him, amazed by his calm after everything tonight—the outfit, the venue, the energy. Anyone else would’ve been overwhelmed, but not Mikkel. He stood beside me, unwavering, as if nothing could change the way he saw me.
I still couldn’t believe he’d let me wear this outfit, let alone that he was the one who bought it—looking ready for the spotlight instead of the crowd. Joshua would’ve lost it—accusations, threats, making me feel ashamed, like my body wasn’t mine to dress. But Mikkel? He hadn’t even flinched. He just looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Like I was meant to be seen.
Before I knew it, I stopped in my tracks again, and when he turned to me, confusion flashing in his eyes, I didn’t even think. I kissed him.
It wasn’t planned or even logical. It was instinctual, like something I’d been holding back for too long. The second our lips met, the world blurred—just him, just this.
He didn’t hesitate. His free hand came up to cradle my face, his touch gentle but sure, and kissed me back like he’d been waiting, like he already knew exactly how to meet me in this moment. His lips were soft and warm against mine, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheek, and the way he kissed me—it wasn’t rushed or demanding. It was deep, steady, unshakable.
Like he wanted me to feel every second of it.
Like he needed me to know this was real.
And I felt it.
I felt it in the way my heart pounded, in the way my body melted into his, in the way every inch of me screamed that this— this —was different. Because for the first time, a kiss wasn’t about proving something or seeking reassurance. It was about being wanted. About being chosen.
When we finally pulled apart, I was breathless, my heart a wild, unsteady thing. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and searching, filled with something unspoken—something I felt all the way to my toes.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” His voice was low and steady, but the emotion in it made my knees weak. “And it was even better than I imagined.”
My chest tightened at his words, my breath catching as I smiled softly and whispered, “Me too.”
His hand stayed on my face for a moment longer, his thumb tracing an invisible pattern on my skin, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead—tender, lingering. Like a promise.
“Let’s get you home, amor ,” he murmured, his voice warm, sending a flutter through my stomach.
His hand found mine again, steady and sure, and I knew tonight would stay with me. Not because of the concert or the crowd.
Because of him.
Because of this .
The car hummed through the city, New York’s lights casting a golden glow over everything. I leaned against the window, my lips still tingling from the kiss, sneaking a glance at him.
Mikkel’s expression was calm, eyes steady on the road, but the slight curve of his lips told me he was holding onto something—something just for himself.
The sudden glow of a drive-thru sign snapped me from my thoughts.
“Hungry?” he asked, already pulling in.
I blinked at him. “You think I have room after all the popcorn and nachos?”
He smirked, parking as the line inched forward. “This is for later, when you wake up starving at two a.m. ”
Warmth spread through my chest. I shook my head, smiling as he ordered a barbecue shrimp sandwich and fries. When I shot him a curious look, he winked.
When we reached my apartment, he parked, grabbed the food, and followed me to the elevator without question.
“I’ll wait until you’re settled,” he said, voice firm.
I didn’t argue. My mind was a tangled mess of thoughts, but my body felt calm.
Inside, I moved through my bedtime routine, but the moment I stepped back into the room, my breath caught.
Mikkel stood near the door, hands in his pockets, but there was nothing casual about the way he watched me. His gaze lingered—heavy, knowing.
“So,” I started, crossing my arms with a playful tilt of my head. “What did it feel like?”
His brow furrowed. “What?”
“The kiss.”
For a beat, he didn’t answer. His eyes traced my face, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing every detail. Then, stepping closer, he reached up, adjusting my bonnet with careful fingers. His thumb grazed my bottom lip.
“It felt like stepping outside on the first warm day after winter.” His voice was quiet, certain. “Like everything softens, everything melts, and for a second… the world feels perfect.”
My heart stuttered. His fingers brushed my cheek, and before I could speak, he closed the distance between us.
“And now,” he murmured, lips curving, “I’m going to kiss you goodnight, and every single day and night after this.”
He leaned in slowly, giving me space to pull away. I didn’t.
The kiss was deeper than the first—deliberate, unhurried, felt. His lips molded to mine with a certainty that sent a shiver down my spine.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, breath warm against my lips .
“Goodnight, Red.”
I opened my eyes and found his waiting for me. “Goodnight, Mikkel.”
With that, he turned and walked out, leaving me standing there, heart full, lips aching for more.
I lingered by the door, fingertips resting on the knob, replaying every second.
Then, the moment his footsteps faded, I collapsed onto the couch, limbs flailing as I let out a silent scream.
“Oh my god.” I slapped my hands over my face, legs kicking at the cushions. “Did that just happen?”
I barely knew how to process it—the concert, the kiss, him fixing my bonnet. The way he’d looked at me. The way he’d felt.
Rolling onto my back, I let out a breathless laugh. “This is real, right?” I whispered, half-expecting the walls to answer.
Instead, excitement pulsed through me, lighting up every nerve. My hands tangled in my hair as I grinned at the ceiling.
“What the hell, Abigail?”
But deep down, I already knew that this was only the beginning.