Page 19

Micki

I quickly push the message away. No! That can’t be true. No!

But my brain can’t be tricked that easily. I’m not stupid, no matter how much I wish I were sometimes. No, no, no! Who am I kidding here? No!

Four minutes later, the second message arrives, and I’m completely lost. I’m so terribly afraid to let even a spark of hope glimmer, but my heart hangs on every word he’s written. I miss him too. So much that it hurts. Every day I don’t see him, I miss him a little more.

“Why aren’t you with me then?” I don’t know if that’s the right answer or if it’s far too much, but Mathéo always liked my cheeky nature. It made him laugh and I desperately need a bit of lightness right now, or I’ll freak out.

My phone rings. Mathéo’s name is on my display and my heart suddenly starts beating so fast that I feel dizzy. What should I say?

“Hey...” That’s all I can get out, but he’s no better. His “Hello,” is nothing more than a raspy whisper. Then he continues, “Um.. I can’t drive anymore tonight.”

“Have you been drinking?”

He breathes in loudly through his nose and then lets the breath out again in one go. “No secrets, okay? Just like our game. We talk about everything. Even about the unpleasant things.”

I’m a little afraid of what’s coming next. “No secrets.”

“I wanted to get you out of my head, so I got drunk to fuck a woman...”

My heart stings. “Did it work?” Why do I want to know? Why do I want to hurt myself even more?

“No...” Relief washes over me in a powerful wave, and I slump backwards onto my bed. “I wasn’t even hard, and it felt so incredibly wrong. And then I thought of you...” My heart pounds all the way to my throat and I hold my breath, squinting my eyes. “My head is constantly telling me that it is wrong to think about you, to miss you, but my heart tells me that nothing in my life has ever felt as right as you.”

Tears well up in my eyes and a pathetic whimper slips out faster than I can press my hand over my mouth. “And what does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” Mathéo’s voice is low and agonized. “I have no idea. What I know is that I miss you and that I want to be with you. But... I’ve never been with... a man. I don’t know if I can do it.”

My heart sinks. He’s in love with me, he misses me, but he doesn’t know if he can be intimate with a man. Understandable, but it still hurts.

“That’s not a hard no. Not at all, okay? But... We’ve only seen each other in person twice. The first time I thought you were a woman and the second time you pulled the rug out from under my feet by telling me you’re a man. I don’t know how I’ll feel when I touch you. I just know I want to be close to you.”

“I want that too.” So much so that these four words are not enough. “How... What are we doing now?”

“I want to see you. I can’t leave right away, I should sleep for another four hours, but I could be with you by 10 am at the latest.”

My anticipation is slightly dampened. It’s so long and I won’t have time the whole day tomorrow. “We have a gig tomorrow night, but I won’t be away for more than two hours. We’re booked for the staff party of a big company.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, okay! Um … Maybe I can just stay at your apartment while you’re out?”

“Or you could go for a drink with élias and Adrien.” I don’t think Mathéo will do that, his relationship with élias is too strained for that, but I wanted to offer.

“We don’t have to decide that now. Send me your address. And I’ll just show up at your door tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Sent. I can’t wait to see you.”

And suddenly Mathéo’s voice has a warmth that I’ve never heard before. It envelops me and even though I’m scared shitless about what’s going to happen, I can’t help but smile. “I can’t wait to see you too. Now let me sleep, so I can get on the road to you as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night, Micki.”

***

I’m not having a good night. I toss and turn, can’t find a comfortable position and a herd of elephants is marching through my head, my thoughts are so loud and insistent. What will happen tomorrow? How are we going to say hello? Should I give him a hug, or is that too much? I don’t want to do anything wrong.

I must have fallen asleep in a super uncomfortable position at some point, because everything hurts when the doorbell snaps me out of my sleep. It’s only half past eight. Mathéo said he’d be here at ten. Who the hell is here this early in the morning?

I throw on a pair of sweats and a hoody before I grumble into the intercom and am more than a little surprised when a quiet, “Hey! It’s me!” comes out of my speaker.

“Mathéo.” Oh my God! He really came. I didn’t dare to believe it until that second.

“Are you going to let me in? It’s fucking cold here.”

I look down my body in shock and realize, no, I really don’t want to let him in that minute. “I thought you were coming later; I look like a scarecrow.”

A soft chuckle is audible through the intercom, and I know he’s slightly lowering his head and shaking it as he closes his eyes with a grin. “I don’t give a shit what you look like, I just want to see you. Let me in. Please.”

Without questioning myself any further, I press the buzzer and hear the door open.

Shit, what should I do now? How do I approach him? What does he want, or rather, what physical closeness can he tolerate? I lean over the banister and try to catch a first glimpse of Mathéo through the stairwell.

First I see his dark curls, cut short, like last time, just long enough to curl once on his head. Not meticulously styled with hair gel and curling spray, but in a wild tousled mess on his head. He’s wearing jeans with sneakers and a dark gray hoodie. Why am I so surprised to see him dressed so casually? What did he wear at the café? I try to come up with something, but my head is empty. He looks fantastic. On the last few steps Mathéo finally lifts his head and I can look at his face.

Did I do that to him? Fuck. His eyes are red and dark-rimmed. He looks exhausted and I don’t think he’s had a minute's sleep. “Sorry I’m here so early, but I couldn’t sleep. And when I sobered up, I just sat in the car.”

He is still standing two steps below me and looks up uncertainly. “Nice to see you.”

As if of its own accord, my arm stretches out and my hand is running through his curls, coming to a rest on his cheek. Way to take it slow, Micki. Respect. I inwardly roll my eyes at myself. Maybe he doesn’t want me to touch him?

The question is answered the moment he leans into my touch, breathing in deeply. Then his head falls onto his chest.

“Come in. We don’t need to talk in the hallway.”