I didn't want to be there. I really, really didn't. There were two people in there that I had no desire to see, for a variety of reasons. But a promise was a promise. And I had promised Sigrid I would have lunch with her in VDO's cafeteria to help her prep for her meeting with Arthur. They had been in contact over the phone and via emails for a while, but apparently she needed to visit him in person to get a better overview of the company's legal situation.

"Please, Abby. He's notoriously difficult and you're the one person who can soften him. Please teach me a few tips to make sure this meeting goes well," she had begged.

I doubted I had any kind of pull on Arthur, but if she wanted to pick my brains, I couldn't see the harm in trying to help her out. So I had offered to meet her for lunch just before her meeting to teach her the few things I knew. Little did I know that she was spending the full day at VDO's and had planned to eat there. I had tried to convince her to eat anywhere else, obviously, but Sigrid is not one to be convinced easily. That's why she made a terrific lawyer.

She picked me up from the lobby at one and, thanks to her visitor pass, we were allowed to take the elevator all the way up to the cafeteria. Sigrid paid for my lunch, that's the least she could do after dragging me there, and we sat opposite each other. I looked around and there was no sign of either Arthur or Victor. Phew!

I told her everything I knew about Arthur's character, which was not much. I explained how obsessed he was with order, tidiness, and punctuality, and that, if she wanted to be in his good grace, she'd better be on time and look as neat and polished as possible. And so should her files. Not that she needed this kind of advice, Sigrid was very organized and her appearance always on point. I also told her what she already knew, namely that Arthur was a rich kid born and raised in money, and in the US at that. She had to view everything as buyable and transactional, like he did. And I finally concluded by saying that he had inflexible principles and values, so that she should be prepared to find ways around that if she ever wanted to use unconventional methods to solve VDO's legal drama.

"Wow, do you even like this guy?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You talk about him like he is the most terrible person in the world. If I hadn't met him before, I would legit be scared to meet with him."

"I mean, he has some qualities, but he is very flawed, yes."

"Ouch. Do I even want to hear what you would say about me if somebody asked you?"

We laughed and changed the subject. There was not much more that I could tell Sigrid about Arthur. Well, there were a lot of things about his personality that I could have shared, like the fact that he was more sensitive and affectionate than people would assume at first glance, but those observations were private and irrelevant to the business meeting they were about to have anyway.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Arthur's voice said from behind me, startling me to the point that I almost fell off my chair. "I didn't expect to see you here, Abril," he added in a cold voice.

That was the first time I saw him since my birthday, which had happened a few days earlier. And if we had gone to bed happy and comfortably intertwined, the waking up part had sure been different.

At some point early in the morning, only a few hours after we'd gone to bed, I had woken up, all sobered up and tucked into this man's arms while he was still asleep. In a true Abby moment, I had fled the scene without a word. I couldn't do it. That was too intimate, too cute, too nice, too comfortable. And that scared me. Careful not to wake him up, I had grabbed my stuff and walked down the hill to take one of the early metros back to my place. He had tried to contact me several times once he'd woken up too, but I had ignored all his calls and, ultimately, he'd stopped trying.

I hadn't told that part to Sigrid yet. She would kill me if she knew.

I looked up and met Arthur's eyes. They were a mixture of angry, sad, yet somewhat happy to see me, I think.

"Miss Sjögren," Arthur addressed Sigrid in a professional manner, given that it was a professional setting, "do you mind making your way to my office and waiting for me there? Carol will let you in. I need to talk to Abril for a minute."

There was no warmth in his voice. He wasn't trying to sneak in a few minutes of cute flirting before his meeting, like she might have imagined at first. He was just plain mad at me. And she felt it.

"Of course."

Sigrid did not say a word but the look she gave me said a lot. I would have some explanations to give once she was done with business. She took her tray and left, and Arthur took her seat. I was cornered. Shit.

"Do you have anything to say?" He asked.

"You're the one who wanted to talk," I retorted.

"Right. I guess I'll talk. Why did you sneak out of my bed when I was asleep? Especially after you insisted on sleeping in it. And why did you ignore all my calls after that?"

Wow, he was not easing into it.

"Are you sure that's a conversation you want to have in the middle of your company's cafeteria?"

"It definitely isn't but it's not like you're giving me a choice. Short of showing up at your place, which I would have done eventually, I've done everything I could to have this conversation in a more appropriate place. I'll take here over not talking to you at all."

"Do you want to meet me for coffee after my shift to talk about it there, instead? The usual place?"

The usual place was a Starbucks near the store, which was within walking distance of both our working places. But I was not planning on going anywhere near that Starbucks. This was just the perfect opportunity to avoid this dreadful conversation. He was going to show up, realize I wasn't there, then leave and go home. No harm done. The coffee place was barely a ten-minute walk from VDO's, it's not like I would be wasting a lot of his time.

"When do you finish?"

"Eight."

"I can meet you there right after eight. But you'd better show up, Abril, or I'll be done with you for good."

Oh. He knew me too well for my own good. And I knew him well enough to know that this was not an empty threat. His tone was severe, assertive, and final. If I stood him up like I was planning to, I would never hear about Arthur Dullac ever again.

I hated how that possibility made me feel. As terrifying as the recent development of our relationship was, I was not ready to sever that link permanently. Did that make me weak? Surely it did. And I hated being weak. But did I hate the idea of losing him more than being weak?

"Fine, I'll be there. But you should come at seven, not eight." I guess I did

His jaw fell open in shock.

"I can't believe it. You actually were going to stand me up."

"Surely you can believe it. That's why you made that threat."

"It was not a threat but a statement of a fact. I've come to know you and your questionable manners, and I'm disappointed to be proven right. You're killing me, Abril."

"Relax. I'll be there, I promise."

"I'm not sure a promise from you means anything, now."

That was harsh. It was probably deserved, too. Although was it really? I wasn't planning on standing him up anymore, having been caught red-handed, so my lie was not really a lie after all. Generally speaking, I was a woman of my word and would never betray a promise. Did I do dodgy shit and use awful lies to get myself out of awkward situations? Yes, I did. Was I still a reliable and trustworthy person? Yes, I was. It hurt me that he thought that, because of one stupid lie that had blown up before it could even be considered a lie, he now had me flagged as untrustworthy.

"On that beautiful comment, I'll dismiss myself. Enjoy your meeting with Sigrid and try not to dish out your anger on her. I'll see you at seven."

"Unlike some people, I can remain professional at all times. See you later, Abril."

I could have slapped him. Honestly, if I weren't trying to prove that I, too, could be professional, I would have seriously considered it.

I left the cafeteria without another word and beelined for the elevator. I had a bit of spare time until I started my shift at the store, but I did not want to spend another minute with Arthur.

When the elevator doors opened on the lobby, though, I kicked myself for not spending just one more minute upstairs.

For fuck's sake, will I ever get a break?

"What are you doing here?" Said no other person than Victor Dullac, who was waiting for the elevator I was in. When I stepped out of the cabin, though, he didn't get in and let it leave without him.

Motherfucking great.

Then I realized his question required an answer.

"I was just... having lunch with a friend. You might know her. Sigrid Sjögren, she's meeting with your son as we speak to sort out your Vaughn situation."

"The MBD lawyer is your friend?" He asked, incredulous.

I felt both proud and offended by his tone.

"She's my best friend, actually."

"Is she the same one who dated the quarterback in high school?"

"Yes."

"How does it feel to be best friends with a girl who's constantly outperforming you?" He snarked, for what reason I wasn't sure.

"How does it feel to devote your whole life to one woman just to have her cheat on you?" I retorted in an equally obnoxious tone.

The cheating wife was a low blow. But so was his piss-poor attempt at making me feel envious of Sigrid's success. I was truly happy for her, and if I occasionally did wish I hadn't given up on my ambitions to be a mere part-time salesperson, part-time anything else, I felt nothing but pride when I talked about her achievements.

"Careful, Lagostera," he threatened.

"Or what? You're going to fire me? Too bad you can't do that anymore."

"I can do worse."

I had no doubt he could. Influential and rich people could ruin anybody's lives in a blink of an eye. But I had leverage.

"Is that a threat, Victor? Should I give your wife a call and explain to her what happened in Joy's office, the other day?"

He made a step towards me, menacing. If I were a man, he probably would have punched me.

"What are you going to do? Hit me? In your own company's HQ?"

People had not started to stare yet, but it wouldn't be long until they started to realize there was something going on. 'Married CEO quarreling with former PA in the lobby' was sure to make the headlines of office gossip for a long time. Dullac had so much more to lose over this than me. And he knew it. He just glared at me while I took my leave.

"Goodbye, Victor."

Funny how it had felt so weird to call him by his first name a few weeks earlier, and now it was my most effective way of reminding him what power I held against him.

* * *

When I got to the Starbucks near the store, Arthur was already there, waiting for me in front of the shop. No surprise here. He nodded when he saw me then entered the place, holding the door for me to come after him. He ordered his usual, double espresso, black, and paid for it. He did not offer to pay for my drink. Not that I wanted him to, I was perfectly capable of buying my own drink, but, until then, he had always paid for my coffee. He would offer, I would decline, he would insist, I would cave. He was happy to provide, I was happy to see him smile – and to save a few bucks, let's be honest. This was our system. His deliberate disregard for our system was his petty way of signaling he was mad at me. Message received.

I ordered some tea and followed Arthur to a secluded table in the corner of the shop. He pulled my chair out for me, which I took as a good sign, but it most probably was just the result of years and years of manners ingrained deeply in his brain.

"That's new," he pointed at my tea.

I had always ordered a caramel Frappuccino when we'd been going out for coffee. Correction, I had ordered a caramel Frappuccino once, and ever since he'd just assumed that I would always want the same thing and had always ordered it for me. I had never corrected him because, well, I did love caramel Frappuccinos. But I also liked plenty of other drinks. In fact, I loved tea. A penchant I had undoubtedly picked up from Josh.

"It's not, actually. I drink tea often. You've just never let me order my own drinks and automatically assumed that all I would ever want is a Frappuccino."

"I've never heard you complain."

"That's me complaining now."

"Fine. From now on I'll ask you what you want before ordering."

"Oh, because this," I moved a finger back and forth between him and me, "is going to happen again? You seemed pretty eager to put an end to it, earlier."

He smiled, which threw me off.

"What?" I barked at him.

"Nothing."

"Don't play with me, Dullac. Why are you smiling?"

"You care."

"Huh?"

"You care," he repeated. "You wouldn't be so mad that I suggested we part ways for good if you didn't care at least a little bit about me. As desperate and masochistic as it makes me sound, I am happy that you care."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I'm mad because you're being an asshole to me."

The smile disappeared as fast as it had appeared.

"Am I? What did I do to deserve that title? I've been nothing but nice and patient with you."

"You didn't pay for my drink."

Why the hell had I just said that out loud?

"Is that it? You're mad at me because I didn't pay for your cup of tea? I can give a five-dollar bill right now if that's the issue." He smirked.

"It's not about the money!" I cried out.

Again, why was I speaking this out loud? The meanders of my mind were meant to be kept private. He didn't need to know I put so much importance in him paying for my coffee. Why did it matter so much to me anyway?

"What do you mean?"

I kept quiet. Nope, I wasn't going to elaborate on the subject. It was already way too embarrassing for me to be so upset over a stupid cup of tea.

"Abril," he said in his low, authoritarian tone, "what do you mean?"

I sighed. I had already said too much anyway.

"You always pay for my drink, that's our thing. But today you didn't, and it's not like you forgot; you did that on purpose, to upset me. That's mean."

He had a somber laugh.

"Right. So you left my bed while I was asleep and didn't deign to reply to my phone calls for days, yet I'm the bad guy for not buying you tea?"

"I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I needed space."

"I did not force you to sleep in my bed, Abril. In fact, if I remember correctly, you practically begged me to let you in."

"I did not beg."

"That's beside the point. You asked for it. I accepted just to make you happy. And after all that, you made me wake up alone. Do you have any idea how it feels?"

Did I know what it felt like to wake up alone in a bed when you expected someone dear to be next to you? Yes, Arthur, yes, I did. More than you could ever imagine.

"You're the first person I've slept with since... a very long time ago. You know I take those things seriously, it was so... so cruel of you to leave me without a word."

A single tear escaped from his eye. He briskly brushed it away but it was too late. I had seen it.

Wow.

I might have not fully comprehended the extent of my actions, at the time. For me, leaving someone's bed when they were asleep was no biggie, I did it a lot. When the two parties are in it just for the sex, it's quite a foolproof method. It spares everyone that awkward moment in the morning when you don't know if you should go for another round, leave as fast as possible, make small talk, or stay for breakfast.

Except that it was not just sex with Arthur. In fact, it was anything but sex. And I had treated him like he was just another one of my sexual partners, while he had gone beyond so many of his own boundaries for me. I did not think twice about it and reached across the table to hold his hand. He recoiled from it at first, but I held on until he eventually accepted the contact.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I didn't mean to hurt you by any means, I hope you know that. I just didn't think about how that would affect you."

"You still haven't answered my question. Why did you leave?"

"I don't know, I—I panicked, I guess? Being in your arms felt too comfortable, too relationship-y. I couldn't handle it. So I left. I didn't consider that what I was doing could hurt you."

"What's so bad and scary about a relationship?"

"It's not so much the relationships that I don't like, but their consequences."

"Care to explain?"

"That's not a story for today."

"Will you ever tell me?"

Probably not. But I didn't have the heart to tell him that.

"Maybe. One day."

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and sighed.

"You're a terrible liar, Abril."

"At least I'm trying to spare your feelings, this time." I half-laughed, trying to make this a joke.

"Should I thank you for that?"

"No, but what do you want me to do? If I'm too honest, it hurts you, and if I lie to you, you call me out on it, and it still hurts you. How do I not hurt you? Should I just walk away and leave you alone?"

"Honestly, I think that would be the best thing you could do."

Oh. Okay. I was fully ready to leave if that was what he wanted me to do. But I had been under the impression that he didn't want me to.

Suddenly the pressure around my fingers increased. Arthur was squeezing my hand in his.

"That's objectively the best thing you could do," he continued, "but that's not what I want. I'm desperate and masochistic, right?"

"What do you want?"

"I want you to let go. I know you want me—" I snorted. Egotistic, much? "Come on, Abril. You know you do. I know, my friends know, your friends know. Anybody that has ever been in the same room as the two of us knows that we have something going on. I want you, too, in case that wasn't obvious already. Why can't you just take a leap of faith and just let go? Just be with me, I'll be good to you, and God knows you've been good to me."

I'm sorry, what? I had never been good to him. Ever. All we ever did was fight and hold hands every now and then. Plus that one time when I had let him hold my boobs. Constant argument and the occasional physical touch, that's what I brought to the table.

And what was he on about? I did not want him.

"What makes you believe I want you? I can get people much more attractive than you in my bed with much less effort."

"Now, Abril. I know what you're trying to do and that's not going to work. I'm tougher than you think. Try and insult me all you want, I'm not going to let you push me away."

"You've been pushing yourself away just fine, so far."

"Well, I'm tough, but I'm not made of stone, and I have a sense of self-respect. I can be patient while you figure yourself out, but I will not let you treat me like a piece of garbage."

Ouch. I wasn't very nice to him, or at all, but surely I didn't treat him like garbage, right?

Anyway, that conversation was pointless. It was maybe the fifth time we were discussing essentially the same thing. As always, we had ended up with the same conclusion: we wanted different things out of each other, and none of us seemed to be willing to change their mind, yet neither of us wanted us to stop hanging out. Talk about a dead-end.

"I like the new hair, by the way," he said.

After the spray paint incident on my birthday, I'd had to dye my hair again. I had kept the pink but had opted for a slightly less pastel color. What used to be a pastel baby pink was now a more pigmented shade, yet just as bright. The new color was pretty close to a Baker-Miller pink.

"Do you only do pink, or do you do other colors?"

"I do all kinds of colors. I've just been liking pink a lot lately."

"I'd like to see the process, one day."

"If we haven't hurt each other beyond repair by the time I have to do my hair again, I'll show you how I do it."

"Thank you."

He let go of my hand and I found myself longing for the warmth that had just left me. Why did he have to be so weird about body contact?

"It's getting late, I'm going to go home," I said.

"Oh." He sounded disappointed. "Did you maybe want to have dinner with me? My treat. I need to make up for this tea you had to pay for," he snickered.

"You don't eat out."

"I can make an exception. Where would you like to go?"

"I didn't agree to dinner," I pointed out.

"Do you have to make everything complicated? Just come enjoy a free meal of your choice."

"You can't pick a difficult girl and then blame her for being difficult."

"Right. What should I do for you to have dinner with me?"

"Just one thing."

"Name it."

"I want you to keep holding my hand."

"For how long?"

Not the ideal answer one could give after being asked to hold hands. Honestly, why did I even bother with that man?

"I don't know, a while?"

"I'm afraid I need a more specific timeframe."

"Why? It's not like we've never done it. You've never asked for a hand-holding schedule before. Just a minute ago your hand was in mine."

"It's not a straightforward thing. Sometimes it's easy, some other times it's harder. I don't control it. It helps not to talk about it and to let things unfold unnaturally. Now that you've mentioned it out loud, I'm hyper aware of it and it's ten times harder."

"Never mind, let's just go."

I took my bag and my jacket and led the way outside, not taking the time to wait for him. We walked side by side in dead silence, our bodies definitely not touching. When we reached the metro station near VDO's, I stopped there and bid Arthur goodbye.

"Let me at least drive you home. Please."

The next metro was ten minutes away and was much slower than a direct car drive to my place. And I was tired of the constant arguments. It was much easier to just say yes and be done with it.

"Okay," I agreed.

I followed him to the parking garage underneath VDO's. I spotted his black car immediately, for it was the shiniest of them all. As I entered the vehicle through the door he held open for me, I realized that, contrary to what I had first thought, it made no sense for Arthur to drive such a car. Arthur had money and liked luxurious things, but his taste was 'minimalistic, practical, and unremarkable', definitely not 'flashy and borderline tacky'.

"Where did you get this car?" I asked as he backed out of his parking spot which had a plaque with his name on it.

"What do you mean?"

"This is not your style. I cannot believe you went to the car dealership and picked that one. What's the story?"

He chuckled. "What? Do I not look like your typical car guy?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

He laughed louder.

"My father gave it to me. It was his gift when he promoted me to Finance Director a couple years ago. I guess he really doesn't know my tastes. Or he does, but he picked something I wouldn't like anyway. What's worse? Being so uninvolved in someone's life that you don't know what they like, or purposely buying them something they'll hate?"

"Erm... They say indifference is worse than hatred, right, so I would pick the former as being the worst. Both situations are terrible, though, and I'm sorry that you've been going through that."

"I'll live. But thank you."

"Why don't you just buy another car? It's not like you can't afford it."

"It would be wasteful. I don't care for cars anyway, as long as they take me from A to B, I'm fine. I can't be bothered to try and find something I might not dislike, and most importantly I don't want to put money into a vehicle when I already have a fully functioning one."

That was... surprisingly reasonable. Arthur's lifestyle was far from modest, he had money and he used it. I mean, look at his damn mansion! He couldn't exactly be considered as somebody who threw money out the window, but he did have gold-plated fountain pens. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had, indeed, left the Porsche in the garage and bought something more to his taste. The fact that he hadn't was heartwarming, and for once relatable.

Halfway through our trip back to my place, while we were driving on a long, straight, empty road, I felt fingers tentatively grazing mine on the center console. Arthur's way of coming back to me. I was tempted to grab his hand but decided otherwise. If he wanted to touch me, he could do it himself, I didn't need to baby him into touching me. Not always, at least.

After a few minutes of hesitation, his grazing slowly turning into a soft caress, he finally entwined our fingers together. He looked at me, he intended it to be discreet but it wasn't, and I forced myself to look at the road. The smile I could see on his lips from the corner of my eye was way too contagious. If I looked at it, I would smile like a dumbass too. I was too old for that.

Our hands were still linked when he turned into my parking lot, where he had to let go because he needed both his hands to maneuver and shift the stick to park. When he killed the engine, he took my hand again and rotated his body so he could face me.

"Did my hand holding grant me the opportunity to buy you dinner and repent for my disastrous tea stunt?"

I couldn't help laughing.

"You know what? I think it did. Let's go."

We ordered Thai food from my favorite place and watched reruns of Friends. Unlike most of the millennial pop culture, Arthur did know Friends and thought it was 'all right'. He even laughed at a couple of Chandler's best moments. What a win.

When dinner was over, we just talked and enjoyed each other's presence, with the sitcom's voices as background. When the late hours of the evening started to come dangerously close to the early hours of the day, Arthur switched off the TV and got off the couch, where we'd both been sitting until then.

"It's getting very late, and we both have to work tomorrow. I'll let you go to sleep," he announced.

I hated that I didn't want him to leave. I hated even more that I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"Will you give me a chance to repent, too?"

"What do you mean?"

"Sleep with me tonight. I'll be there in the morning, that's a promise."

"You can't be serious."

"I am."

"Abril, you have a single bed."

"We can get cozy, it's not a problem."

"Not a problem for you, but a huge one for me. Not to mention that I don't have a change of clothes, or a toothbrush, I have to wake up early for work..."

"Sleep in your underwear, I have a spare toothbrush for you, just set an alarm on your phone."

It didn't hurt, once in a while, to take a page off Arthur's book and be very literal about every single issue.

"You won't catch me going to work wearing the same clothes two days in a row."

"Then wake up earlier and stop by your house before going to work."

"You know very well that my house and VDO's are in two opposite directions from here. It will take ages."

I shrugged. Then I stood up, wrapped my arms around his waist, and leaned against his chest. He was too stunned to stop me. His arms hovered for a minute before he eventually decided to hug me back.

"Please?" I asked against his shirt.

"Look who's begging," he laughed. I looked up and frowned at him.

"I'm not begging, I'm insisting. It's very different."

"How so?"

"Tie me to my bed and I'll show you what begging sounds like."

The effect was immediate; he became redder than his hair in a fraction of a second.

"Do you have to make everything about sex?"

"Do you have to be so embarrassed about sex?"

"Just get me a toothbrush and let's be done with it."

"Yay!"

I didn't think about it twice and I craned my neck up to kiss him on the cheek. He froze but did not complain.

After a cheeky smile in his attention, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, take my makeup off, and do my elaborate skincare routine. Arthur brushed his teeth with me then got undressed while I applied my many serums. I could see him from my bathroom, whose door was open. Each time he removed a piece of clothing, he folded it and put it on one of my dining chairs, until he ran out of clothes to fold. Then he removed his glasses and placed them on top of the pile of clothes. The only fabric left on his body was a pair of black boxer briefs. I realized that was the first time I saw him so little dressed. And he was about to sleep in my tiny bed. In which nothing would happen. My vagina contracted on its own, already thirsting for the almost-naked man in my flat. Upon reflection, I might have set myself up for disappointment.

"Do you want a shirt?" I offered when I was done with the skincare, both to make him more comfortable and to calm myself down.

"I probably won't fit into anything you own."

I crossed my arms on my chest and looked at him, unimpressed. If he did have toned shoulders and arms, he was still a lean person. I was not. If anything, my tee-shirt would be big on him. But as much as I didn't want to put my self-worth in my weight and how people saw me, I was stupidly happy that he thought my clothes could be too small for him. Even years after working on loving my body, the insecurities were still there.

"Trust me, you will."

"Then yes, please, I could do with a shirt."

I foraged into my pile of basic tee-shirts I used when I exercised and tossed him one. It was bright yellow with a 'I am a feminist' inscription on it. I couldn't wait to see his reaction. He looked at it with a raised brow.

"You're having fun, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said in mock innocence.

"Joke's on you. Yellow is one of the few colors I don't mind, and I am indeed a feminist."

He put on the shirt in front of my shocked eyes and fallen jaw. The man had instantly become ten times hotter. Not because of the shirt, but because he had just casually called himself a feminist.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

I closed my mouth.

"Nothing, I... You look good in this shirt."

That was only half a lie. He did look good in something else than neutrals, for a change. As predicted, the shirt fit him without any issue, although it was tight on his biceps, digging slightly in his muscles. I would never be able to wear this shirt again without having impure thoughts.

I told Arthur to get comfortable in my bed while I changed into my pajamas.

"Could you maybe change in your bathroom?" He asked as I was in my underwear, about to take off my bra.

"Why?"

"You know why..."

Yes. Yes, I did.

"Nope. You tell me."

"Abril..." He grunted.

My bra fell to my feet, and I proudly stood in the middle of the room, boobs out and hands on my hips, facing an Arthur who was making a strong effort to look away.

"Is my naked body turning you on, Arthur?"

No answer.

I came to him, kneeled on the bed, and grabbed his chin to force him to look into my eyes.

"Do you want to touch me again?" I offered. For his benefit, but also for mine, let's be real.

"No."

This time, the rejection didn't sting as much.

"Very well."

I got off the bed and put my pajamas on. A cute little tee-shirt and shorts set, white with red hearts. I turned off the light, plugged my phone on the charger by my nightstand, and got into my bed. Arthur was on his side, his back against the wall. I lodged myself next to him, spooning against his chest. The answer to my previous question was, yes, my naked body did turn him on. I made no comment about his semi-hard dick because I didn't want to embarrass him, but the smile he couldn't see on my face could have lit up the whole room.

In a very un-Arthur way, he grabbed my thigh and pulled my ass closer to his crotch. I yelped.

"In case you're still doubting it," he whispered in my ear, "yes, you do turn me on, Abril. Thank you for being patient with me."

He couldn't know my ears were a highly erogenous zone for me. His sweet, soft words on my sensitive skin combined with his dick poking my butt were tantalizing me beyond belief.

Eventually, he let go of my thigh, resting his arm around my waist instead, and he scooched back his hips to a much safer place. He placed a tender kiss on the back of my head and we fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up to a loud noise that was not my alarm. I looked at my phone. It was six in the morning. I still had one more hour to sleep. I pulled the duvet over my head and covered my ears with my pillow, drowning the noise. Whatever that was, it would wait until I had my final hour of sleep.

"Abril," Arthur, whose presence I had totally forgotten, said in a low voice.

I didn't respond.

"Abril!" He repeated, this time more loudly, shaking me as well.

I grunted.

"Abril, it's your doorbell."

Whoever that was, they were determined to wake me up because they kept harassing the poor button. There was a concert in my apartment. I was too sleepy to care.

"They'll go away," I grumbled.

The doorbell just kept ringing and ringing.

"Or maybe they won't. I don't care."

"I'll go check. There might be an emergency and we need to evacuate the building."

He got off the bed and all but ran to the door, which wasn't that far.

"Careful Arthur, you're in your under—"

"Wow, that's a surprise," said a voice I had no issue recognizing when Arthur opened the door on who turned out to be my Icelandic best friend.

"—wear."

"Good morning, Sigrid," Arthur greeted her, and I could hear from beneath my pillow how tense he was. I just knew he hated being caught just out of bed in his underwear, and not his bed at that.

"Interesting outfit," she snickered before making her way inside. "Well, well, well, look who I'm finding in good company!" She said very loudly once she was next to my bed.

She knew I wasn't a morning person and was doing that on purpose. Her not-so-subtle way of reminding me I still had to explain myself to her.

"Get the fuck out!" I muttered in my pillow.

Suddenly, my duvet and pillow were pulled away from me. The cold air seized my body.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

I rolled onto my back and met her mischievous eyes. She was taking way too much pleasure in torturing me.

"It's fucking six in the morning, Sig, what are you doing here?"

"I figured I could stop by your place before going to work. I brought breakfast!" She held up a paper bag full of pastries and a cardboard tray that held a Frappuccino and her usual Americano. "Feel free to take a croissant, Arthur, although I'm afraid I didn't know you'd be here so I didn't buy you a coffee. Do you want mine?"

"I'm all right, thank you. I was about to wake up and leave anyway. I still need to go home before I get to the office."

"Speaking of that, I've started drafting my report. I should be able to send it to you today."

"If you don't mind, Sigrid, I'd rather not talk about work when I'm dressed so inappropriately ."

"Of course. I'll email you later."

The sheer embarrassment on Arthur's face would have been funny to anyone. Except for me. I could sense his discomfort, and that made me very sorry for him. I had to fix that.

"Sig, can you wait outside for a minute, while I see Arthur off?"

"Sure."

As soon as she was out, I ran to Arthur, who had not moved from the doorstep.

"Cariño, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"I'm so sorry. I swear I didn't know she would show up. Otherwise, I would have never asked you to sleep over."

"Abril, I'm okay. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure? You didn't look fine."

"I was a bit... taken aback, I guess. I don't enjoy people seeing me in my underwear, especially people I work with. But I'll live. Thank you for asking. What's that you called me?"

That shut me up real quick, and suddenly it was my turn to be embarrassed. I felt a sudden heat in my cheeks.

"You're actually blushing," Arthur said in disbelief. "I never thought I'd see that day."

I slapped his chest while I regained composure. I was not sixteen and blushing ten times a day anymore. What was I even embarrassed about?

"It's just a pet name."

"I've figured that out. What does it mean?"

"It means the same as any other pet name. It's like 'dear' or 'darling'. Can we please not make a big deal out of this? My tongue slipped."

"It slipped in a very cute way."

"Call me cute again and see what happens, cabrón!"

"Why do I have the feeling this does not mean something nice?"

"Just get dressed, Arthur."

He smirked but did not say anything. He removed my shirt and handed it to me. I resisted the urge to smell it right away. He put his clothes back on and slid his glasses back on his nose.

"Okay, I'm ready. I'll leave you with Sigrid. Try not to kill her."

"No promises. She's your biggest supporter, you know? She noticed you were mad yesterday, so now she wants to ask me what I did to make you mad and tell me off for it."

He laughed.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I insisted. "I can kick her out."

It would be hard, but I could.

"You know, if you don't stop asking that, I'm going to assume you're the one who is not okay. Are you embarrassed that Sigrid found out we spent the night together?"

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him, unimpressed. I would never be embarrassed by something so trivial.

"Seriously, Abril. I am fine, no harm done. But thank you so much for caring."

He surprised us both when he placed a soft kiss on my temple.

"At least, I stayed in bed for the whole night this time," I joked.

"Mmmh, actually, we were woken up before we could finish the night. You might have been planning to flee during this last hour."

"Well, we can always have a redo and sleep together again," I proposed.

"I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

We laughed.

"I'll keep you updated about having a redo at my place. Please pick up your phone when I do?"

"I will."

"Thank you, now I need to go."

He raised his hand, as if to grab my waist to pull me in for a goodbye kiss but decided otherwise at the last minute. Instead, he gave me a quick hug and made his way to the door.

"I'll see you soon?" It was an affirmation, but it sounded like a question. I nodded to reassure him. "Goodbye, Abril."

"Goodbye, Arthur."

"She's all yours," he said to Sigrid when he stepped outside.

"Don't you want to stay with us for breakfast?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I need to go anyway. Do me a favor and be nice to her. She's trying very hard."

"No, you do yourself a favor and let me handle her. I know her better than you do and you don't stand a chance without me."

"All right. I'll leave you to it. Bye."

I'm not sure if I was supposed to hear this short conversation, it's not like they were super discreet about it. In any case, this warmed my heart.

"So!" Sigrid turned to me after closing the door on Arthur. She was speaking very loudly again, knowing that it would irritate me. I still hadn't fully woken up. "What the fuck happened in the last twenty-four hours? I came here fully prepared to smack some sense into you, and here I am being greeted by your Ginger Dude, all disheveled and wearing your shirt. Explain yourself, lady."

I grabbed a croissant from the bag and my Frappuccino, then let myself drop on the couch. "You might want to sit down, it's a long story."

She sat down next to me, and I started talking.

She already knew about what had happened the night after my birthday, I had just omitted the part where I had left Arthur in the middle of the night. When I confessed, I legitimately thought she wanted to slap me. She didn't do it, but her disappointment was abysmal. She gave me shit for doing that, reminding me how I had done this to Josh years ago and that was already a terrible thing to do back then, but now I didn't have the excuse of being a stupid teenager anymore. I let out a few tears. She hugged and comforted me, but she made it a point to not apologize. I needed to hear that, according to her.

I then told her about our conversation at VDO's, then at Starbucks. She almost yelled at me for planning to stand him up, but she stopped in her tracks when I told her that my plan had backfired.

For the rest of the story, she had nothing bad to say, and was overall relieved that I had not 'ruined everything' – her words.

"Why are you so invested anyway?" I asked her.

"Because I want you to be happy and I feel like he's the one who'll make you happy. I've never had my hopes so high, so you'd better not disappoint me."

"I'll try my best, Sig, but it does not depend just on me."

"I know. But, please, if you ever panic again, just call me instead of making stupid decisions. He seems patient, but he won't hang around forever if you keep hurting him."

I sighed. "I know, and I will."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
A/N: Oops, this chapter comes a bit later than usual, my apologies. I wish I had a great excuse but really, the reason is that I was attending a formal dinner at my college.

I hope you liked this chapter. Next one on Friday!

Love,
Charlie.