Tears prick at the back of my eyes, but thankfully, I manage to hold them back.
“Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this out here on the street.”
Smooth, Andreas.
“Nice try,” I say with narrowed eyes.
I feel the electricity between us and know it’s not just crackling because I’m so incredibly angry. My brain, soaked in alcohol, is on a strange rollercoaster of emotions. I sigh, feeling completely lost. This is a decisive moment. Just a few hours ago, I officially decided Andreas could go to hell. I need to protect myself, but he smells so good, and his tight T-shirt really isn’t helping.
“Nora, I’m sorry about yesterday. I know I acted like a complete jerk. I know nothing is in my favor right now, but you have to believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you on purpose.”
I think I’ve been waiting two days to hear this. I don’t know if it’s enough to trust him again, but I’m a little drunk, so my judgment is completely shot, and my emotions have taken the wheel. I feel my body aching for his touch, and my brain is struggling to come up with objections. I know there are plenty, but for the life of me, I can’t think of a single one right now.
“Shouldn’t you send your cousin a selfie to let him know you’re safely inside?” he suddenly asks.
I startle, I do need to do that quickly if I don’t want the police at my door. I go inside, take the most unflattering selfie ever, and send it to Dennis along with a message that I’m home safe and everything’s fine. By the time the message is sent, Andreas is standing next to me in the kitchen.
“Well, you’ve given yourself a good excuse to come inside,” I say grumpily.
My emotions are so volatile. I hate him, and I want him. My brain is taking a dip in the alcohol and leaving me hopelessly stranded. I sigh, feeling utterly confused.
He tilts my chin up and locks eyes with me. “I’ll leave immediately, if that’s what you want. All you have to do is ask.”
His confident demeanor, after everything he’s done to me, makes my anger flare up again with full force. I hate that he’s so sure of himself and that he assumes I’ll just do what he wants. And I hate even more that he’s right. I don’t send him away. I feel like a puppet in his hands. He gets away with too much because he’s just so smooth and sexy, and I hate myself even more for not being able to resist him. I feel exhausted. Why can’t I put up more of a fight? He’s a jerk, after all. I think.
“Andreas, you can’t just pluck me off the dance floor, come in here, and act normal after what you did to me yesterday.” I’m almost shouting. “You left me alone, half-naked, without a word! How could you do that?” Now I’m really yelling. “Did that whole night really mean nothing to you? Are you that cold, Andreas?” This time, I can’t hold back the tears. “I’m so mad at you!”
I hit his chest with my fists, but he takes it without flinching. I’m so frustrated, and the sting from my own fists against his steel chest is painful. He lets me go on, but then suddenly grips my wrists firmly. His hold is strong, surprising, but it brings a strange calm over me. I take a deep, shuddering breath and then slowly let all the air out of my lungs. My fists relax, and before I know it, the palms of my hands are pressed against his chest. His skin burns through his T-shirt. He rests his forehead against mine and murmurs his apologies again.
“I panicked and ran away. I’m sorry.”
I feel the sincerity in his words, though they still don’t make sense to me.
“Why, Andreas?”
He takes another step closer, closing the distance between us completely, and nuzzles his nose into my hair.
“You smell so good, Nora,” he whispers softly.
“Why?” My voice cracks.
I grab his T-shirt. I need something to hold onto. He says nothing. His hands release my wrists and glide over my arms and shoulders, all the way to my neck. He massages my tense muscles.
“You can’t seduce me like this, Andreas, it’s not fair.”
“I thought it was the other way around,” he whispers in my ear.
His comment makes me burn, but I don’t forget.
“You’re dodging my questions again,” I say, almost desperately.
“I know,” he admits, his voice low and sincere.
We’re tangled together, the tension unbearable. I know he’s not going to answer, that it’s up to me to make a choice. My hands move from his chest to his back. I rest my head on his shoulder.
“Are you going to run away again tonight?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“No,” he says. I exhale.
