Niklas turned in time to catch my frown before I looked back down at my menu. He rested his hand on my thigh and leaned over to kiss me. It wasn’t an explicit kiss, just a brush of his lips against mine, but his message was clear.Only you, his lips seemed to whisper.
The waitress’s voice cut into my thoughts. “Anything to drink?”
“You ready?” asked Niklas, eyes still intent on me.
I nodded.
“Chocolate milkshake and a side of fries, please,” I said to the waitress.
Niklas grinned at my order.
“And for you?” the waitress asked, turning to Niklas. Her voice sounded more impatient than seductive this time.
“Big Breakfast, side of fries and a vanilla milkshake, please.”
The waitress nodded and walked away.
“That’s all?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “No dessert?”
“Funny,” he said. “Get used to it. When I’m playing regularly, I can out-eat anyone here. And there are some big guys in this place.”
He glanced around the room at the afternoon clientele.
“Lovely,” said I, rolling my eyes. “Very impressive.”
Niklas squeezed my thigh, finding his favorite ticklish spot, and I let out a little yelp.
“That makes you mad?” he asked, his face growing more serious. He gestured to the waitress, standing at the milkshake machine.
I knew what he meant—other women who approached him, who flirted with him as if I wasn’t standing there next to him.
“What is it?” he asked softly. “You know I’m not interested in anyone else.”
I shrugged.
“I’m not exactly sure. Maybe it’s that I feel like I always have to be on guard when we go out. Or maybe it’s just jealousy,” I said, smiling a little. “Maybe I’m worried that one of these days some sweet young thing will capture your attention, even for a few minutes. And where would that leave me?”
Niklas frowned deeply, and he was quiet for a while.
“Caroline, we’ve spent every day of the last months together. I hope you understand that I’m not just looking for a hot woman to fuck. You have to give me more credit than that.”
I cringed. “Okay, you’re right. That’s not exactly fair.”
Niklas glanced over at me and sighed. He ran his hand through his thick, blond hair so it stood on end. As I smoothed the most offensive pieces, his expression softened.
“I guess I get it, at least a little bit. I was jealous as hell in Italy,” he said, looking down. “We split up at the market, and I came back to find two Italian men fondling melons with you.”
I laughed.
“So you put your hands on my ass and kissed me like you were going to take my clothes off right there,” I finished.
Niklas spun my stool around so I faced him. He rested his hands on my thighs and kneaded gently.
“So maybe you should do the same to me a little more often,” he whispered, moving closer.
The waitress brought our milkshakes, and we turned back to face the counter. I swirled my straw around and took a long, slow sip. I sighed at the cool, sweet taste on my tongue, and Niklas stared at me with heated eyes.
We drank our milkshakes to the clatter of forks and glasses around them. This was what traveling together had been like. Just the two of them, slowly discovering each other and all the details around them. Yes, this felt right.
