Hans barely heard him. His attention stayed locked on Adrik—on the way he squared his shoulders, on the sharpness in his voice, on the version of himself he kept tucked away until moments like this. It wasn’t just the language anymore. It wasthe ease. The authority. Like this was the real Adrik, and the quiet, awkward one Hans woke up next to was only half the story. And suddenly, Hans wasn’t sure which version he was supposed to trust.
Adrik took his hand, and Hans didn’t resist. He let Adrik lead him away, back toward the train station, away from the club, away from Dirk, away from the past clawing at his heels.
For the first time all night, Hans could breathe again. The fight, the perfect German Adrik shouldn’t have been able to speak—everything had been pressing on his ribs like a vise. But now, on the train, with Adrik beside him and the city humming past the windows, the pressure eased just enough for him to think straight.
They rode mostly in silence. Not uncomfortable, just heavy. Like both of them were pretending the night hadn’t been a mess. Neither asking the questions they both had. Then Adrik finally spoke.
“Are you still going to spend the night?”
Hans tilted his head toward him, leaning close enough that his lips brushed the shell of Adrik’s ear. “I’m looking forward to it.”
And he was. That was the problem.
Chapter Fifteen
Hans
They got off attheir stop, and the cold air hit them, sharp and clean. They walked past the towering Ferris wheel, its lights spinning slowly and lazily against the dark sky. Adrik stopped, staring up at it as if it meant something. Hans stood beside him, watching the way Adrik’s expression softened—faraway, reverent.
He knew Adrik was thinking about his grandfather. And he wanted to ask more questions. He wanted to understand the man who could throw a punch without blinking, speak flawless German only when it suited him, and then stand here looking like a kid remembering someone he loved.
But Hans didn’t ask. Not yet. Not when everything between them was fragile.
He was anxious about spending another night—what it meant, what it didn’t. The implications were stacking up, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for all of them. But the truth was simple: he’d loved waking up next to Adrik. Loved thewarmth, the quiet, the way Adrik’s breathing steadied him in the morning.
He didn’t want to give that up.
But he also wasn’t about to pretend he knew who Adrik really was. Not after tonight. Not when a part of him still felt like he was standing next to a stranger in a dream. When they reached Adrik’s cottage, Hans spotted the neighbor from the bar lingering out front, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging around him like fog.
“Hey,” the man called, flicking ash to the ground. “Just thought I’d let you know someone was pounding on your door for over an hour tonight.”
Adrik didn’t even flinch. “I guess they’ll come back later. Thanks.”
Hans’ skin prickled, every nerve on high alert, as an unseen presence brushed past him. “What did he look like?”
The neighbor shrugged. “Tall guy. All black clothes. Curly hair, green eyes, broad shoulders. Didn’t understand German. Didn’t speak English either.”
A cold thread slid down Hans’ spine. He turned to Adrik. “Do you know anyone like that?”
“No.” The word came out flat, and some of the color drained from Adrik’s face.
That was when Hans knew this wasn’t anything.
Adrik jammed the key into the lock with more force than necessary and shoved the door open. His jaw was tight, shoulders locked, every movement sharp enough to cut. He tossed his jacket onto the hook as if it had offended him. Whatever that stranger’s visit meant, it had rattled him—badly.
Hans stepped inside, kicking off his boots, watching the tension coil through Adrik’s body. The whole cottage was charged now, like the air before a storm. And Hans couldn’tshake the thought that there were threats circling them, getting bolder, closer, more real.
Hans tried to keep his tone light, though his pulse hadn’t quite settled. “You planning on making me regret coming over?”
“Only a little,” Adrik said, nudging one dumbbell with his foot on the bottom shelf against the wall. “Thought we’d have some fun with our challenge to top.”
Hans huffed a laugh. “Does your definition of challenge involve pain?”
“Only the good kind.”
Hans’ eyebrows shot up. “Oh? And what kind is that?”
Adrik shrugged. “The competitive kind.”
