As they walked side by side toward the waterfront restaurants, Hans realized something: he wasn’t just eager. He was hopeful. And that was the most dangerous feeling of all.
Dinner in Rostock transported Hans to another world. The waterfront was lit with strings of warm lights, the air carrying the scent of salt and grilled seafood. He walked beside Adrik, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that every brush of their arms sent a spark up his spine.
They chose a small restaurant overlooking the harbor—the kind with wooden tables, candles flickering in glass jars, and a view of the boats rocking gently in the water. Adrik opened the door for him, relaxed yet watchful, and Hans’ heart did that silly thing again.
They sat across from each other, menus open but mostly ignored. Hans couldn’t stop staring at Adrik — the way the candlelight softened his features, the way his T-shirt stretched across his chest, the way he leaned forward like he was trying to read Hans’ thoughts.
“So,” Adrik said, smirking, “you’re a better driver than I expected.”
Hans snorted. “You keep underestimating me. It’s becoming a habit.”
“Maybe I like being surprised.”
Heat rose on his neck. “Maybe I like surprising you.”
A shiver ran down his spine as he looked into Adrik’s dark eyes. God, this man was dangerous. Not just physically—emotionally. The kind of danger Hans had sworn he’d avoid after Dirk. But here he was, leaning in, wanting more.
They ordered dinner—fish for Hans, steak for Adrik—and the conversation flowed more easily than Hans had expected. They talked about travel, about food, and about stupid things like favorite movies. But now and then, the conversation dipped into something deeper.
“You live alone?” Adrik asked, voice casual but his eyes sharp.
“Yeah,” Hans said. “You?”
Adrik hesitated. Just a flicker, but Hans caught it. “Yeah. Alone.”
Hans didn’t push. He could feel the walls around Adrik—thick, reinforced, built from something darker than heartbreak. But he also saw the cracks. The way Adrik looked at him wasn’t casual.
Halfway through dinner, Adrik leaned back in his chair, studying him. “You know… I didn’t expect you to show up at my door today.”
Hans laughed softly. “I didn’t expect it either.”
“What made you come?”
Hans met his gaze, steady. “I wanted to see you.”
Adrik’s jaw tightened, as if the words hit him somewhere he wasn’t prepared for. “You’re trouble, Hans.”
Hans smirked. “You’re one to talk.”
Adrik’s lips curved. “Fair.”
They finished dinner, but neither of them seemed ready for the night to end. They walked along the harbor, the cold air brushing against their skin, their steps falling into an easy rhythm.
The tension built again—that magnetic pull between them, the kind that made Hans’ heart race and his thoughts scatter. He wanted to reach out, to take Adrik’s hand, to close the distance. But he sensed the shadows of everything he didn’t know about this man—the ones behind his eyes, the secrets he carried beneath the armor.
When Adrik suddenly turned to him and stopped, Hans’ breath hitched.
“This was good,” Adrik whispered. “Better than I expected.”
Hans smiled. “Yeah. It was.”
Adrik stepped closer, close enough that Hans could feel the warmth of his body, close enough that the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them.
“Come on,” Adrik said, voice low. “Let’s head back.”
Hans nodded, pulse quickening. He didn’t know where the night was going. He didn’t know whether he should lean in or pull back. But he knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t ready for this to end.
Chapter Seven
