by Petrova, Em
“I have pepper spray,” she said, digging in her pocket until she pulled it out.
“Not sure that stuff is legal here,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, you weren’t ready to use it.”
“I would have been if there were real danger.”
She knew her answer sounded childish before the words even left her mouth, but she said it anyway. Much to her increasing irritation, he gave a dry laugh.
“Fine,” he said. “Then spray me. Right now.”
She looked at him hesitantly.
“You don’t want me to do that. It’ll burn your eyes. Badly.”
“That reasoning is why the pepper spray won’t help you,” he said, the amusement still on his face. He was goading her—she could feel it—but it was working. Her hand twitched around the canister.
“Fine,” she said and reached to pull the cap off the spray.
But before she even reached the cap, he grabbed both of her hands together with one of his. He used the other to turn her around and hold her against his solid chest. Her pepper spray dropped to the ground. Caroline gasped, her mind trying to process the sensation of her back against the warmth of his hard muscles. She stopped breathing. His large arm held her firmly against him, and she felt her heart frantically pounding inside her chest. She looked down at the scarred knuckles of the hand that was easily holding both of hers.
Before her mind had fully registered all these details, his grip softened. Gently, he turned her back around by her waist so she was facing him, but he didn’t release her right away. She wasn’t sure where to look. At the broad, solid chest only inches away? At the tense muscles of his arms? She drew in her first, shaky breath in too long. Caroline tilted her head up and found his eyes fixed on hers.
“It’s not safe to wander around alone at night, even if it’s light out,” he said softly.
Though he didn’t move, she had the sudden, inexplicable feeling that Niklas was about to kiss her. And Caroline found herself parting her lips in anticipation. But a moment later the feeling was gone, and she felt the warmth of his large hands disappear. Niklas picked up her pepper spray from the ground and placed it back in her hand. His fingers lingered on hers before he pulled them away and whispered, “It’s especially not safe if you’re not ready to use this.”
“I still think I could have been,” Caroline said, though her voice no longer held the defiance it had just minutes ago. She took a deep breath, trying to rein in the situation that had quickly galloped out of her control. Her heart rate was still nowhere near normal yet, and the fact that his body was only inches from hers wasn’t helping.
Niklas looked at her carefully. Then he gave a laugh and shook his head. “Can I walk you home?”
“I’m not ready to go yet,” she grumbled. “I still have a few more minutes before the sun comes up.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” he said, sitting down on a large stone, not waiting for her reply.
Caroline turned back to the magnolia tree, trying hard to put Niklas out of her mind. Her hands were still shaking, and the heat of his body lingered, tingling down her back. But what unsettled her most was her own response to him. She should have been scared by the sudden nearness of his body just a few minutes before, but she wasn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Who was this man? She felt a strong pull between them, though more than once he had suddenly turned rude and ignored her. Now he was going out of his way to make sure she was safe. Again. Whoever he was, he was certainly in great shape, she thought as her gaze slid over the long, thick muscles of his thighs. What did he want from her? Niklas sat silently on the rock, his back towards her, but she could feel him there, even when she turned away. Sighing, she replaced her lens cap.
“I’m ready.”
“You don’t have to rush,” he said, sounding surprised.
“No,” she said. “I can’t concentrate.”
“Afraid I'll grab you again?” he said with mock-seriousness.
She laughed. Caroline was finding it difficult to stay annoyed at him, and the charming lilt of Swedish in his words wasn’t helping.
“Come on,” she said, rolling her eyes, and they started back towards the apartment building. Caroline could feel him next to her, close, before he spoke.
“So you must come from one of those small towns where no one locks their doors?”
She chuckled. “Actually, I’m from Detroit.”
Niklas gave her a funny look she couldn’t read.
She added, “You know, Detroit, Michigan? Middle of the U.S., the state with all the lakes around it? Up by Canada.”
He furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. “Yes, I know where Detroit is.”
There was a moment of quiet while Caroline tried, unsuccessfully, to interpret his tone. Then she gave up.
“I’m not helpless, you know,” she said suddenly. “I took a self-defense class back in college, and we practiced on each other a lot. But not with anyone as quick or… as big as you.” Caroline could feel the flush creeping up in her face again.
Niklas stopped and turned her by her shoulders so she was facing him. His intense blue eyes were fixed on her again, sending a fresh wave of awareness through her. “I wasn’t trying to say that you’re helpless,” he said. “I’m saying you weren’t ready to protect yourself. And you know that there are real threats out here.”
He didn’t have to say more; the implication was clear. Whoever he was with the other morning in the park might not have left her alone. This time Caroline didn’t answer. He was right. When she looked through the view finder of her camera, everything else fell away. But what was she supposed to do with that information? Stay inside when this beautiful, quiet park waited right outside her window?
He let his hands brush down her arms as they returned to his sides. Everything about their interactions felt so intimate, despite the fact that they barely knew each other. Niklas turned back along the park path. They walked in silence as the first rays of morning light shone through the trees. The rustle of the wind, birds, their shoes tapping a quiet rhythm on the path—these were the only sounds. The rest of the city slept as Caroline and Niklas walked over the hill, back to where their building was visible. Her magical world, she had called this spot. It felt different with Niklas there, but it was no less magical, she had to admit.
“I’m sorry,” Niklas said suddenly. “I imagine you wanted to be alone back there. But it’s not just what happened the other morning. There was an attack in the park not so long ago. A group of guys out at night, looking for fights—and worse.”
“Is that what happened to you?” she asked.
Niklas touched the cut above his eyebrow. It had faded beneath the strips but was still pink.
“This?” He chuckled. “No, this fight wasn’t in the park.”
Caroline didn’t know what to think of his answer. He hadn’t refuted her reference to a fight, only the location. What kind of grown man gets into a fight? She stole another glance at Niklas. He had a scar up his knee as well—another fight? He was clearly built for it, and his ability to disarm her so quickly suggested… well, what did it suggest? All she could think about was the way the hard muscles of his chest and arms had felt pressed against her.
Caroline’s face reddened as she realized that Niklas was watching her eyes move along his body. Again. And he was smiling. Determined not to let herself get flustered, she tried the question she had asked earlier.
“What are you doing out here at 4:00 in the morning?”
“Jogging. It helps when I can’t sleep. And it’s nice to have the city to myself sometimes.”
She nodded. She knew exactly what he meant, though walking with him hadn’t turned out so badly, either.
They crossed the empty street and stopped in front of their tall stone building. Caroline licked her lips, trying to anticipate the next turn that this meeting would take. She had to give him credit—Niklas was anything but boring so far.
“Thanks for
walking me home. Really,” she said with a little smile, and he nodded. “Are you coming in?”
Niklas shook his head. “I’m going out for a run.”
“Alone?” she said in mock-horror.
“Unless you’re coming.”
There was something in his voice, a mix of humor and intimacy, almost as if the invitation were a dare, though she wasn’t exactly sure what the dare was.
Caroline shook her head, though at the moment the idea of spending a little more time with him had its appeal.
“If you want to go out tomorrow morning again, knock on my door. I’ll be up,” he said. Then his mouth quirked up into a hint of a smile. “And I promise not to make any sudden grabs at you next time.”
She met his eyes and felt her heart take off again, the memory of his body against hers rushing through her. His eyes truly were the color of the sky that morning, light and clear against his broad cheekbones but with an intensity that made everything else around them fade into the background. He had shaved this time, which made him look different, less Viking brute, more—well, if she were totally honest with herself—more very sexy guy. A rude, sexy guy who comes home smelling like beer and stale cigarettes with bad taste in friends and a habit of getting into fights, Caroline reminded herself.
Niklas was studying her, as if he could tell what she was thinking. She swallowed, and she could feel the heat rush to her face. He opened his mouth as if he were on the verge of saying something, but then he seemed to think better of it.
“See you,” he said abruptly and jogged back across the street, picking up his pace as he entered the park.
Caroline watched him disappear into the trees and then looked up at the building. A new wave of irritation washed over her as she realized that Niklas had successfully maneuvered her back to the apartment building, cutting her morning session short. It was the kind of subtle control that Brad had tried to exert over her all those years, though she had to admit that Niklas had done it a lot more skillfully. And enticingly, she thought with a laugh. But she also couldn’t deny her irritation at the fact that she had so easily let herself get sidetracked by this man. Even if he was probably right: she shouldn’t be out alone at night.
Chapter Six
“If you’re staying in Sweden for a while, you should at least try Swedish foods,” said Veronica, holding up a jar of something floating in a mysterious yellow sauce.
“In principle, I agree with you, but I think I have to draw the line here,” said Caroline, eyeing the jar with skepticism. “What is that?”
“Herring pickled in mustard sauce,” said Veronica with a smile.
“Really?” said Caroline, taking the jar to examine it for herself. “Pickled fish with mustard? That sounds both exotic and repelling. Maybe that’s reason enough to try it.”
“Or how about this one?” said Veronica, grabbing another jar off the store shelf—an entire shelf lined with identical little jars in various sauces. The one she now held was white and creamy. “Garlic,” Veronica translated off the label.
“Which disguises the herring flavor the most?” asked Caroline. Seeing the look of exasperation on her friend’s face, she put the mustard jar into her basket.
The grocery store was surprisingly well-stocked, especially considering its unassuming entranceway on the edge of the enormous St. Eriksplan traffic circle. Everything inside was smaller, from the little rectangular packages of milk to the mini bottles of soda, stacked high in crates. The exception was the cheese: enormous wedges and rounds of cheese took up a good portion of the refrigerator section, all white and with holes. Could there possibly be this many versions of Swiss cheese?
“Am I done yet? I think I have as much as I can carry,” she said as she grabbed two bags of pasta off the shelf, thankful that at least these were recognizable.
“So he snuck up on you while you were taking photos?” asked Veronica as they waited in line for the cashier.
“Not exactly snuck up. He was trying to see if I was ready to fight off an attack. And, of course, I wasn’t.”
“He sounds a little creepy. And then there’s the way he grunts at everyone in the building. He’s home at all sorts of odd hours. Doesn’t he have a job?”
“You’ve certainly been watching him carefully,” laughed Caroline.
“Well, he is really hot, too,” said Veronica, chuckling as well.
“Are married women supposed to say things like that?”
“If they haven’t gone blind. Don’t get me wrong—Filip is more than enough for me. But that doesn’t change the fact that this guy Niklas is hot enough to model underwear. And he was staring at you in the hallway with more than just the weather on his mind the other day.”
The woman in front of them glared over her shoulder and then turned back around, making Caroline laugh even harder.
Veronica shook her head and whispered, “I told you I’m the loudest woman in this country.”
Caroline had to smile. Veronica didn’t seem to care, though she continued at a more muted volume.
“Just because he’s hot doesn’t make it a good idea to start something with him.”
“I’m not here to start something with him, or with anyone, for that matter,” said Caroline, letting out an exasperated sigh as she loaded her groceries onto the register counter. “The only thing I’m after right now is a new direction in my career, one that’s finally in reach. I just need to figure out the finances part. I don’t want to think about Brad, cutesy babies, contrived wedding poses, or a new guy who distracts me from what I want to do.”
The look on Veronica’s face told her that her words had come out a little sharper than she meant them to.
“Sorry,” she added, squeezing Veronica’s arm. “As you can tell, I’m still a little sensitive. Want to know the last thing my father said to me before I left? ‘You’ll never find yourself a husband if you run off like this.’ Like of all the reasons I should or shouldn’t take an around-the-world trip, finding a husband should be at the top of the list.”
“Dios mio, Caroline,” said Veronica with half a smile. “You were leaving steady Brad, with his lawyer salary and his BMW. Your father is Mexican, and you’re his only daughter.”
“What about your Mexican father? What did he say when you left?”
Veronica rolled her eyes.
“My Mexican father has four other daughters who are much more compliant than I am.”
Both Veronica and Caroline burst out laughing as they walked out of the grocery store and onto St. Eriksplan.
“I miss laughing like this,” said Veronica. “Even when I try to hold myself back here in Sweden, I still get stares. For a country so concerned with gender equity, Swedish women certainly keep their behavior under control.”
“And I don’t?”
Veronica shook her head. “At least not when we were in college.”
But the person Caroline had been back then felt far, far away.
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not,” she frowned.
“Definitely a compliment.”
As the door swung open into her temporary home, Caroline’s phone gave a quiet ding. She searched her purse and finally pulled it out. She read the message twice.
“What should I do about this?”Caroline asked, showing Veronica the cell phone she had lent Caroline during her stay.
Still interested in hockey passes? You can come with me. /Ludvig
“What do you mean?” said Veronica, raising her eyebrows. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Caroline wrinkled her nose. “If you mean the tickets, yes. But doesn’t that sound like a date?”
“So what if it is? A date isn’t a promise of anything else except your time that evening. Besides, you can at least give him a chance.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Did you set this up?”
Veronica looked back at her and laughed.
“No, but I may have talked you up to him a little. Maybe.”
/> Caroline put her phone back into her bag and sighed as the two of them carried the grocery bags into the kitchen.
“This apartment is beautiful, though I’m not sure I could ever get used to living here,” Caroline said as she unloaded the little rectangular cartons of milk into the refrigerator.
“I’ve found that, under the right conditions, you get used to just about anything,” said Veronica with a wry smile. “Can I wander through? I’ll never get to see my neighbors’ flat otherwise.”
“Of course.”
Caroline laid out the foods that had been identified as sandwich ingredients and then opened the door that led out onto a tiny balcony.
“You brought these along?” Veronica’s voice floated through the door.
She followed the voice and found her friend in her bedroom. Veronica was looking at the long table underneath the tall windows where she had laid out her most precious photographs.
“You brought them?” said Veronica with a laugh that seemed to be a mixture of incredulity and admiration. “You had only one suitcase to travel around the world, and you brought the photographs?”
“I couldn’t leave them. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. That’s why I only have two pairs of shoes,” said Caroline, smiling. “And no jackets.”
They both sat on the edge of the apartment’s enormous king-sized bed and looked at the pictures. They certainly weren’t the best photos Caroline had ever taken, and many of them had faded in their frames after years of exposure, but she had held onto these photos for the story they captured so many years ago.
“I thought you were a little nutty the first day we met,” said Veronica, smiling. “You didn’t unpack anything except for those photos for the first week of college.”
“I wasn’t planning to stay. We were in North Quad. I wanted to move onto the main campus with my friends.”