6
a new, sexy life
I yawned as we pulled up at a market on the drive home. Between the dinner with my parents and the time change, I was ready for sleep.
“I’ll be right back,” said Niklas as he jumped out of the car, not bothering to wait for my response.
I leaned back into the plush seat and sighed. We had survived dinner. Niklas was right: He performed well under pressure. Unfortunately, my own performance left something to be desired. Standing in my parents’ front hall with Brad at the door, I had felt the uncomfortable pull of my old life. If I hadn’t met Niklas, would I have followed Brad back to his place? For my jewelry? Or would I have handled him on my own terms?
My car door opened, interrupting these thoughts before we grew darker. Niklas offered me his hand to step out. He closed the door behind me and led me around to the back of the car. Gently, he leaned me against the trunk. He placed his hands on the car, one on each side of me, so that our bodies almost touched. His lips met mine for a soft, warm kiss. He rested his cheek against mine and whispered, “I have something for you.”
I looked out at the quiet parking lot. “Here?”
Niklas glanced around, too, and chuckled. “Not so romantic, I guess, but it will have to do.”
He kissed me again and straightened up.
“Wait here,” he said and reached down around the driver’s side of the car for something on the ground. He reappeared with a slim, white bouquet in his hand.
“Calla lilies,” I said, smiling a little.
Niklas wrinkled his forehead for a second.
“Is that what these are called?” he asked. “They looked like your type of flower. I hope I’m right.”
I nodded.
“They’re beautiful. We grow around my grandparents’ place in Mexico,” I said. I took the flowers in one hand and searched for the belt loops of his jeans with the other. “You didn’t have to get me flowers just because Brad did.”
Niklas stared down at me. “And that little shit in Stockholm, whatever his name was.”
“Yes, Ludvig, too,” I said. “But it’s not a competition, Niklas.”
“I hope not,” Niklas chuckled. “I thought I already won.”
When I rolled my eyes at him, his smile grew wider.
“Joking,” he whispered.
I gave him a little shove, but I smiled. He caught me and pulled me closer. I set the flowers on the trunk of the car and wrapped my arms around his neck. His large body pressed against mine, and our lips almost touched.
“Thank you.” My voice came out husky. I strained to close the last distance between our mouths, our lips brushing together.
His smile was gone now at I looked up at him. “I don’t want you to think that there’s another guy out there who would do more for you than I would.”
“I already know that, Niklas. No flowers required.”
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he took in my words. His head dipped down to mine, tasting my lips. He took his time, kissing me slowly, with the warmth and tenderness of finding each other again. Relief rushed through me as I relaxed into him. Niklas broke off the kiss and eased my head against his chest, stroking my hair.
“We made it through our first day in Detroit,” he said, his muscles relaxing under my fingers.
I sighed.
“I still would have felt better handling Brad by myself,” I said quietly, “I need to speak up for myself.”
Niklas lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really need to prove this to yourself?”
He sounded genuinely incredulous, and when I didn’t answer right away, he added, “Because you had no problem busting my balls all summer. It’s one of the things I like about you.”
