"I don't know, you are the sober one, you tell me."
He takes one step towards me, his muscular body suddenly too close.
I remember how that chest felt against mine—solid and sure, the kind of heat that seeps in even through thick layers.My skin buzzes with the memory, my breath hitching.It’s too warm in here now, or maybe that’s just him.Too much, too close, too familiar.
His eyes drop to my mouth for a moment, and my breathing stops.
Just for a second, I imagine reaching up, dragging him down by the collar, kissing him until he forgets every reason why we shouldn’t.The image is so sharp, I feel it in my knees.But then Niko’s voice cuts through the heat like a blade.
"Thomas, you left your gloves at the bar—a guy just brought them…"
Niko freezes mid-step, eyes flicking between us.
"Okay… I'll just… leave them here.Leave you to it…"
He disappears down the hall.
I step back first.
My body leans toward him even as my mind pulls away.I want both the story and the man, and I hate that I can't have both at once.Staying still feels like restraint.Moving would be surrender.
Thomas laughs, sharp and sudden.
"One idiot walks in," he says."And the magic's gone."
His eyes flick to my lips again, then back to my eyes."You know," he says quietly, "you keep looking at me like that, and one day I won’t walk away."
He turns to leave.
"Thomas," I call after him.He pauses at the door.
"Promise you'll think about it."
He doesn't turn around."Think about what, exactly?"
He glances back, grin crooked."Because I can promise I'll be thinking aboutustonight."
"Not that.The media image.Something I can use."
He lets out a breathy, half-sober laugh.
"Always after stories, aren't you, Katharina?"
I am.That's why I'm here.
And as much as I'm attracted to him—fascinated by him—I don't intend to forget that.
He's not just my occasional flirt.Not just my wildest sex fantasy.
He's also my hero.
And I intend to make him shine.
***
Beaver Creek, USA
Thomas
