That was my first thought when I woke up, and I lay there, staring at the coffee table in front of me, trying to find a convincing argument to support that fact.
When Hez had asked me to stay, I’d desperately wanted to say yes, but I couldn’t have explained why. We’d known each other for such a short amount of time, there was no logical explanation as to why I wanted to stay with him.
It was entirely possible that my feelings for him were just the combination of stress, jet lag, the scenery, and the fact that Hez had literally rescued me. Like a bastardized Stockholm syndrome.
My head and my heart didn’t know what they wanted. Yes, I loved Germany. But that didn’t mean I could abandon my life back home and live out some fairy tale here with Hez...did it?
I was so confused. But I had to go home. There was no way out of that. I had a job and a family and a non-refundable international airline ticket. I had to go.
So why didn’t I want to?
It finally occurred to me that I was still lying on the sofa. Still laying on Hez’s chest, actually. The steady rise and fall of his breathing an odd comfort as I fully came awake.
What if I did stay? What if I just let this fairy tale play out however it was going to play out? It had to mean something that I’d met this man when I’d needed him most.
Didn’t it?
Hez shifted under me, and I sat up, smoothing my hair out of my face and straightening my clothes that had shifted as we’d slept bunched up together on the sofa.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep so hard,” I told him, hoping I sound casual and breezy.
“I fell asleep as well,” he said, chuckling softly. “I think it must have been the wine.”
“I think it was the jet lag for me,” I said.
“Well, what shall we do today?” Hez asked brightly. “It’s your last day in Germany, is there anything in particular you’d hoped to do while you were here?”
Apparently he was eager to ignore the conversation we’d had the night before, and I was happy to let it go. I didn’t want my last day here to be uncomfortable in any way, so if he could forget it, then I could, too.
“I have to go to the airport tonight to check in,” I admitted. “My flight out is early tomorrow. But I’m yours until then. What do you think we should do before I leave?”
I probably imagined his gaze darkening as he stared at me. Some kind of Freudian thing because my own mind went straight to something I’d never even experienced before. Hell, I’d never even kissed a guy before, so I certainly hadn’t meant to allude to anything…carnal.
Though once the thought popped into my head, it was difficult to force it away. And had he grabbed me and kissed me in that moment, I’d have happily given him everything. It was one German experience I’d never thought to consider, but it would certainly be memorable.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully. “As it is Sunday, our options are limited. But perhaps I could make a few calls and arrange some private tours of a few places.”
“You don’t have to go to any trouble,” I said quickly. “Honestly.”
“It’s no trouble,” he insisted. “We can go to the miniature museum.”
“Really?” I asked hopefully, my mood lightening considerably. “I love miniatures. I collect them, actually.”
“It’s actually more of a model train museum. But it is small,” he said, clapping his hand and pushing himself to his feet.
“That’s still cool,” I assured him. “I’d love to see it.”
“We’ll get ourselves around, find somewhere to have breakfast, then hit the museum.”
The fact that he was able to be so breezy himself gave me a little pause, but maybe he was faking it as well and we’d both spend the day being overly polite and nonchalant with each other.
That was bound to make the day super fun.
****
After about an hour of watching miniature trains move through fake mountains and woods, listening to our guide who kept slipping into German in the middle of sentences, and Hez keeping six feet between us at all times, I finally snapped.
“Are we going to talk about what happened last night?” I blurted out, a little louder than I meant to.