'Thank you for giving us a chance.' This sentence is still ringing loudly in my ears. I didn't dwell on it, just hushed up the unspoken hope of a future together. Instead, I bombarded Alec with questions and got only hesitant answers. Because I told him very little about myself. And he clearly showed me that Alec had a problem with that.

We only exchanged some general information. Alec already knew what I did for a living. He told me about his job as a cabinet maker in his uncle's company. His eyes lit up as he told me about his journeyman's piece and all the work he had put into loving detail. Alec's big strong hands really captivated me as he told me, gesticulating wildly, how he had given new life to an old table last week.

I learned little about his family. Isabelle was his sister, Jace his half-brother. Their mother had lived together in Los Angeles for years and their relationship with his father was a bit bumpy. That's all I learned. Again, Alec made it clear to me through his facial expressions that this topic was a red rag for him.

My answers to his questions were sparse. Only child, mother deceased, red rag, father an asshole, dark red rag. After a short time, Alec said goodbye with what I found to be a more than implausible excuse. He had promised his sister to design the place cards and some other little things for the wedding. I didn't believe a word he said, but said nothing.

At the agreed time, I drove the next day to his until then shared flat with Jace and now stand in disbelief in his bedroom. Unlike me, Alec lives spartanly. Very spartan. A bed, not exactly small, a really nice chest of drawers made of dark wood and marquetry. A small table with a chair. This room reminds me of my student days.

Alec is talking to Jace, muffled voices coming through the closed door. The flat is really small, but beautiful. Bright rooms and the masculine touch is impossible to miss. I'm pretty sure that Jace's girlfriend will bring some changes and especially colours into play. The content of their conversation is not important to me. I try to block it out and get an impression of the man who occupies this room. Nothing. Emptiness. There are no personal belongings of any kind.

The walls are white, plain and simple. There is a small lamp and an alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. A book lies on the bed. The dark blue cover contrasts strongly with the beige of the bedspread. My bed always looks as if I have just left it. This one is neatly made up. It inevitably reminds me of a hotel room. As if the occupant was just passing through. The only personal object for me that seems to reveal something about Alec is the book. My eyes focus on the title and I don't have to look any further. I know the book. It is in my office on top of a pile of other books. These piles are sorted, divided by category.

And this one, with the beautiful title 'You are my sun my moon and all my stars', is in the pile of heartbreak - highly recommended. Curious as I am when it comes to literature, I take the book between my hands. The rough cover makes my fingertips tingle and the pages exude that typical smell of paper, printer's ink, warmth and home. Alec's bookmark surprises me. It is not plain, but colourful. Rainbow colours and black lettering - Love is Love. Two hands intertwined, clearly masculine. I read the last lines of this page and remember the feeling I had when I read the words for the first time. Pain. Unspeakable pain. The love of his life had simply left him. For a woman and a life in the shadows.

I promptly decide to talk to Alec about the book when the opportunity arises. I'm curious to hear his opinion and whether he felt the same way about it as I did. My eyes continue to wander around the room, but apart from the chest of drawers, there is nothing to see here.

This must be Alec's journeyman's piece. The chest of drawers is very beautiful. Dark, highly polished wood, permute-coloured floral inlays. Fine brass handles and a beautiful grain. My fingers glide over the wood and the inlaid pattern. In the middle I discover fine lines and try to make a connection. My mind wants to tell me something, but I can't grasp the information.

"Nussbaum", suddenly sounds Alec's mute behind me and very close to my ear. His breath tickles my skin, the warmth of his body settles on mine. Absorbed in the beauty of this work and trying to grab a thought out of my head, I didn't notice him enter the room. And certainly not that he is so close to me. The fingers of his right hand gently stroke my arm, narrowing my eyes I try to ignore the vibrations in my body.

I bite down hard on my bottom lip, Alec's fingers intertwining with mine. The heart pounds harder and harder in my chest, pulse skyrocketing as Alec presses himself firmly against my back. A minimal movement forward, the hard wood pressing against my thighs. Alec breathes a kiss on my ear, his tongue tracing a wet trail over the edge of my pinna and earlobe, sucking lightly on the soft and exceedingly sensitive spot.

A moan of pleasure escapes my mouth, Alec's arousal pressing against my ass.

"My initials." Alec breathes against my ear and all the hairs on my body stand up. His deep raspy excited voice makes me tremble.

"What?", I croak. I have no idea what he's talking about. His hand runs mine over the smooth wood, I feel the fine ridges, the transition between walnut and mother-of-pearl. And then the thought finally settles into a place that is tangible for me. AGL - Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

"The chest of drawers comes with me. There's no negotiating that", says Alec, jerking away from me. Coldness settles over me, I'm still shivering and don't understand what just happened here.