23
I’ll sleep on the couch.
That sounded like a challenge.
Max walked in front of me, his step light and cheerful. His face sparkled with the innocent expression of a child about to commit a prank. I walked behind him, negotiating the cobblestones as best I could. The streets of downtown Ljubljana were most picturesque but impractical for walking in heels.
We wandered around for a while until he stopped at a recessed doorway between a used book store and a hat shop. We ascended dark stairs to the top floor, and I thought of my grandparents, climbing the hundred steps to the island of Bled. Max turned the key in the lock, and before us appeared a narrow hallway with dark wooden slats on the walls and more coats than the Madrid flea market. He had to kick aside several shoes that were blocking the passage—most of which were women”s.
“Do you have to go to the bathroom?” he asked. I shook my head. “It”s there if you need it. Okay then, follow me. This way.”
He put a finger to his lips, signaling for me to be quiet. I looked at my watch: it was almost three in the morning. He opened a door that, at first, I had mistaken for a closet. He stretched his arm up and lowered a folding ladder, which led up to a hole in the ceiling.
“You”ve got to be kidding me,” I said incredulously. “You want me to climb up here after all that rakia?”
“I have faith in you,” he whispered with a grin and disappeared up the ladder without letting go of his violin case.
When I poked my head through the opening in the ceiling, I found myself in a surprisingly clean and uncluttered room. Max had cleverly made the most of a few square feet of attic space that once must have been a humble storage room. Soft moonlight filtered in through a skylight, giving everything inside a bluish hue.
A gray sofa occupied the left side of the room, and in the corner next to it was a stool and a music stand with a score still open. There was also an electric keyboard and the occasional aromatic plant; unfortunately, all withered and starved of light. Max’s meager belongings, including his clothes, were neatly stacked and folded on industrial-style metal shelves.
“It”s late,” said Max, setting the violin on the floor next to the music stand. “Here”s the bed. Do you need more blankets?”
“That couch doesn’t look very comfortable for sleeping,” I remarked with a mischievous smile.
“I will survive. Unless you prefer to sleep there?”
“I’d rather sleep with you.”
Max let out a laugh, surprised.
“If you”re trying to get me to give up my reward in exchange for sex, you need to know that my answer is—”
“It”s not that, silly!”
“My answer is yes,” he said, pulling me against him.
He kissed me passionately, holding my face with both hands. I unbuttoned his vest and tried to remove the horrible Tyrolean straps underneath, with no success.
“Here,” he murmured against my neck, “They have buttons,” he said, his voice hoarse.
He took off the suspenders and the suede pants while I ruffled his gelled hair. I had been fantasizing about doing that for hours, and it looked so much better unruly and tousled. I unbuttoned his shirt, and he, in turn, undid my blouse very slowly while gently kissing my neck.
“You”re not wearing the pendant today,” he murmured without stopping kissing me.
My brain was unable to register his comment. All I could think of was sliding my fingers across his chest, so firm and inviting.
“Are you sure about...this?” he asked, sounding a little worried. “You don”t even know me.”
“I don”t need to know you. It”s just for one night,” I whispered in his ear, guiding his hand to where I needed it most. I couldn’t help moaning when he brushed against my perfect spot and swallowed before adding, “Tomorrow, we’ll forget this happened, okay?”