Alone.
He didn’t rush. Didn’t look flustered. He took his time crossing the bar, like he’d planned this. Hans watched Adrikmove through the bar like he owned every pair of eyes in the place, and it hit him with irritating clarity: the man knew exactly what he was doing to him. Every slow step, every glance, every deliberate choice not to look his way—it all felt intentional. Like Adrik was pulling a string just to see how hard Hans would flinch.
And damn it, Hans was flinching.
He could feel it in the tightness in his chest, in the heat crawling up his neck, in the way his pulse jumped every time Adrik shifted his weight against the wall. Adrik didn’t have to say a word. He didn’t have to smile or wave or acknowledge him at all. Just existing like that—confident, gorgeous, impossible to ignore—was enough to twist Hans up inside.
Hans knew the truth, even if he hated admitting it.
Adrik was doing this on purpose.
And it was working.
Then he slid onto the stool right beside him.
Close enough that Hans could smell the cold air on his clothes.
Adrik lifted a hand to Hershel. “Another beer,” he said in English, voice low and steady.
Hans’ heart hammered, his jealousy still simmering, his hurt still raw.
And now Adrik was sitting right next to him.
Like nothing at all had happened.
Chapter Twenty
Adrik
Adrik slid onto thebarstool beside Hans, the leather squeaking under his weight. The Seebrise was loud tonight—music thumping, glasses clinking, people laughing too hard at things that weren’t funny.
Hans sat stiffly at the bar, shoulders locked tight, eyes fixed on his drink like it was the most fascinating thing in the room. Not a single glance in Adrik’s direction. Not one. Just that rigid posture and the way his jaw kept working, like he was chewing on something he didn’t want to say.
Adrik leaned in a little. “Where’s your wristband?”
Hans shot him a frown, the kind that could curdle milk. “I’m not here to hook up tonight.”
Yeah, right. Adrik could practically feel the tension rolling off him.
He took a sip of his beer, watching Hans over the rim. “When are we leaving for Munich?”
Hans blinked. “What?” He grabbed his drink as if it were a shield.
“You did invite me to meet your parents in Munich,” Adrik said, keeping his tone light, teasing. He wanted to see Hans react and wanted to know if he still cared.
Hans didn’t bite. “Where did you go with that guy?” he asked instead, voice tight.
“What guy?” Adrik asked, letting a slow grin spread across his face. He knew exactly which guy Hans meant. And he knew exactly why Hans was asking.
Hans glared. “The one you were flirting with just a minute ago.”
“Just out front,” Adrik said, shrugging. “He bummed a cigarette from me. That’s all.”
Good. Let him feel it.
A beat passed, then Hans asked, “How are your nipple piercings?”
Adrik raised his eyebrows. “Want to see them?”
