She frowned. The old Caroline, the person she was last spring back in Detroit, would have given in and dropped the subject, no questions asked. But that’s not who was standing here, in the middle of the longest staircase she had ever seen, listening to Niklas discuss something that probably involved her. Caroline took a breath, still not sure what would come out of her mouth.
“Niklas, it sounded like you were talking about me, too. I’d like to know what that was about.”
Niklas folded his arms. “It’s about hockey, okay?” he grumbled.
Caroline folded her arms, mimicking his stance, and waited.
“Look,” he said, his voice gentler, “you’ve avoided talking about what happens when we get to Detroit, and that definitely affects me. Now I’m asking for a little time to think about this call before we talk. Please.”
The last word, please, came softly, breaking through the arguments she had lined up in her mind. She felt the familiar urge to give in war with her newfound itch to speak up. The struggle took place in a stomach already overdue for food.
One more day, and everything would change. Caroline’s stomach twisted further. His gaze was still fixed on hers, and his eyes pleaded for her to leave the subject alone. And he was right. She’d asked the same of him back in Hawaii.
“Tomorrow,” she conceded quietly.
Niklas closed the distance between them and folded her into him, ignoring her crossed arms. She couldn’t resist. She rested her head against the warm, hard planes of his chest. Slowly, she slipped her hands around him. They stood on the step, still and silent. After a while, the tension in his arms eased. Or maybe it was her own body that settled. Wordlessly, they found their way back to each other.
She turned her head and looked out at the bay, dotted with the white triangles of sailboats. The water sparkled in the late-afternoon sun. On the other side, slopes of houses faded into deserted hills of dry brown and dark green. Still so far away from Michigan.
Niklas’s chest rose and fell in a heavy breath, and he kissed the top of her head.
“Ready for more steps?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Always.”
That earned her a little smile.
The pathway zigzagged into an alley of houses, each stretching down the steep incline. The houses ended in lush yards, hidden behind tangles of vines. Caroline stopped on a landing, panting. Niklas graciously looked like he was resting, too. He leaned back onto the railing.
“These properties are beautiful,” she said, peering through the tree branches into someone’s yard. “I feel like we’re not supposed to be here.”
Niklas moved behind her, almost touching her, and looked over her shoulder. Warmth radiated from his body, but he didn’t sound out of breath.
“Not sure I’d like a location this public, but that one,” he pointed through the trees, to a house further across the hill, lit up in a patch of sunlight, “that one I’d take.”
Caroline nodded, though the idea of living here felt as foreign as staying in Stockholm had. Niklas slipped his arm around her waist and kissed the base of her neck.
“We could live here, you know,” he whispered in her ear. “We could just leave everything behind and move here.”
Caroline tried to ignore the clench in her stomach. Yes, her heart sang before she could squash the thought, run away to San Francisco. Begin a new life with Niklas. But despite the shiny appeal running away together held, she knew this wasn’t going to happen.
Her trip had shaken up her life in exactly the ways she had hoped it would. No more taking baby photos in a mall studio. No more living life on her ex-boyfriend’s terms. And no more getting walked all over on by a man. In the span of a few short months, she had managed to turn her life around.
Now she needed to get to work, not run away. No matter how appealing Niklas was, they were flying to Detroit tomorrow, and soon after, he would return to Stockholm.
But she turned to Niklas and allowed herself to be seduced by the warmth of his arms and the temptation of an easy future, just for a moment.
“What would we do here?” she asked.
Niklas shrugged.
“Plenty of photography options, I’m sure,” he said.
“And you’d play for the San Francisco… Giants?”
Niklas laughed and squeezed her against him.
“Even at the top of my game, I don’t think the Giants would consider me, älskling. They’re baseball, not hockey.”
Caroline smiled a little as the flush crept up her neck.
“I guess we’ve already established my lack of knowledge about pro sports teams.”
He kissed her again, this time on the tender spot below her ear. “Like anything else, you just need the right partner to guide you.”
She swallowed, trying to ignore the twist this conversation gave her gut. He made their future sound so easy, but she knew it wasn’t. Not for her, at least. She could live in Niklas’s privileged fantasy life for a whirlwind summer. Real life was another story.
He let go and started back up the stairs. Her break was apparently over. Her eyes fixed on Coit Tower, looming above them. The steps weren’t multiplying in front of her, were they?
As they reached the top, Caroline leaned back against the railing, huffing. Niklas pointed at a bench that faced the bay, half-covered by the shade of a tree.
“Come on,” he said, tugging at her hand. “Just a little further. I promise.”
He winked, and she let herself be led. They crossed the sunny little parking lot. Caroline plopped down on the hard, wooden slats, and Niklas handed her the water bottle. She took a swig and passed it back to him. Niklas stuffed the metal container into his backpack, the bench creaking under his weight. He reached around her shoulders and stroked her arm absently, looking out at the bay.
Caroline closed her eyes and let the California sun sink in, trying to shake the shadow of Niklas’s phone call. The suggestion about living in San Francisco hadn’t been offhanded; she knew him better than that by now.
But how could a future with Niklas fit with her new version of herself? The version of herself searching for her own path. The version that branched out on her own, that didn’t simply fall into a future because it was easier than making a decision. A future with Niklas felt easy, and she couldn’t decide what that meant. Caroline could fall into that future right now. He felt right enough to make her second guess her promise to herself to never, ever put off her own goals for a man again.
That was the real danger here.
Was she setting herself up for the same relationship trap she had with Brad? She gave up traveling with Veronica for Brad and a consolation job at a mall photo studio. What was she willing to give up for Niklas? Caroline didn’t want to find out.
Tomorrow at this time, they’d be on a flight to Detroit. She couldn’t put it off any longer. The idea of splitting from him was building, a storm growing darker as it approached.
What would it be like to run away with Niklas? She looked out into the bay in front of them, dotted with islands, the Golden Gate Bridge grey and misty. Her mind went blank. Beautiful San Francisco felt as exotic as Italy. At least Stockholm had Michigan trees. San Francisco’s trees looked like something out of a children’s book, with hard, wide leaves and enormous flowers.
Niklas shifted to get a better look at her.
“What is it?” he asked softly.
But Caroline didn’t want to tell Niklas what was on her mind, though he could probably guess.
“Come on, Caroline,” he said, his hand leaving her arm to poke at her side. “‘Fess up. It looks like you’re hiding something.”
She twisted away from his fingers and shook her head. “Not now.”
This time he didn’t try to tickle her. He leaned back on the bench and pulled her onto his lap.
“It’s almost here, Caroline,” he said, his voice low in her ear. “I want to talk a little before
we get on that plane tomorrow.”
Caroline frowned. When they didn’t talk about the end, she could at least pretend it wasn’t going to happen. She felt her body respond to his, but she didn’t give in.
Instead, she turned to him with a little smile. “I’m thinking about getting my phone out and finding a restaurant myself.”
Niklas raised his eyebrows. “What about Coit Tower?”
Caroline looked over at the old stone tower. Beautiful, but all she could think right now was more stairs.
“You better hurry up. I’m giving you ten minutes before I go eat dinner myself.”
“Is that a challenge?” he said, nipping her ear. “You know how I feel about challenges.”
Caroline smiled. “After this summer with you, I’m starting to realize just how much I like challenges, too.”
Niklas laughed and glanced at his watch. “10 minutes.”
She turned to watch him jog back across the parking lot to the tower. Yes, she did like challenges, especially those that involved Niklas. Tomorrow marked the beginning of a very different, more complicated challenge for both of them, the kind that didn’t always have winners. Hopefully, they were ready for it.
“HERE IT IS,” said Niklas, opening the glass door for her.
She stepped inside the tiny restaurant. There were a handful of tables, all neatly set with white linens and long-stemmed wine glasses, all empty. The smell of garlic and olive oil mingled in the air, drawing her in a few more steps. Caroline was hungry, really hungry, despite the early hour.
“No lounge chairs,” she whispered.
“But it looks like we beat the crowds,” he said, his voice low in her ear.
Damn, how did he still have this effect on her? Nothing about what he said even bordered on suggestive. Apparently, all he had to do to turn her on was stand close behind her and speak in that deep, rough voice. She swallowed, fighting the urge to lean back against the spread of muscles across his chest. He wouldn’t resist.
Keep strong. Don’t forget what you really want. Maybe if she chanted this enough, she’d get through the next day without dissolving into a puddle of annoying wishy-washiness.
Caroline straightened and looked up at the hostess, waiting for their attention. She was everything Caroline wasn’t: tall, blond, and put together. The woman’s gaze traveled from Caroline’s creased jeans and tank top to her messy ponytail. She looked over at Niklas, and her smile rested on him for a moment longer than necessary. While the activity of the day had bumped Caroline’s look down to disheveled, Niklas’s sex appeal clearly didn’t diminish with a little scruff. Quite the opposite. Niklas didn’t seem to notice his effect or else he was ignoring it. He turned to look at the collection of black-and-white photos of Italy hung low on the walls.
“Just the two of us,” she said, wrenching back the hostess’s attention. “Can we sit by the window?”
“Of course.”
The woman led them to the front corner of the restaurant. Caroline followed, whispering to Niklas over her shoulder, “Maybe we should have showered before we came.”
She felt his hand slip over her hip as they made their way around the little tables. He leaned forward, his lips close to her ear.
“I like you like this,” he said, moving his hand underneath the hem of her shirt, brushing his fingers against her warm skin, still moist with sweat, before he stepped away to pull out the chair for her. The hostess glanced once more at Niklas before retreating.
After the server brought their drinks, Caroline leaned back in her chair and looked out the window, onto the narrow street. A family strolled by, wandering down the sloping sidewalk, peeking into narrow shop windows and glancing at the map the mother was holding. A gentle breezed floated through one of the open windows. She looked over at Niklas. He leaned back in his chair, too, eyes closed, smiling a little.
“Want to know my favorite thing about San Francisco so far?” she said.
“All the hills?”
Caroline sighed. “Not even close. It’s the fact that everyone speaks English. I know that doesn’t make me sound very adventurous, but it’s a relief knowing that when we go to a restaurant, I’ll get what I think I’ve ordered.”
Niklas nodded. “When I first returned to Sweden for the hockey tournament, I’d walk down the street thinking, ‘that guy’s speaking Swedish!’ before I remembered that I was back in Sweden. I had been in Detroit so long that hearing my native language was a shock.”
Caroline laughed, but when she met Niklas’s eyes, he gave her a wary look.
“But the novelty goes away quickly,” he added.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean when you decide where you’re going to live, language isn’t very important. You’d learn whatever the language, wherever you live.”
Caroline recognized the stubborn single-mindedness behind his gentle push. They were going to have the conversation.
“Like Swedish, you mean?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“For example,” he said. The corners of his mouth quirked up into a little smile.
“You’re not going to let up until we talk about this, are you?” Caroline’s voice came out drier than she meant it to, but Niklas just smiled wider.
“Fine,” she said. “But I’m warning you. If you push me, I’m pushing back.”
Niklas reached under the table and squeezed her knee, still smiling. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
Could it work this way? That Niklas enjoyed her strength? That he might even push her to grow in this way?
“Good,” she said, batting his hand away and trying to keep the delight off her face. “So where were we?”
His eyes locked on hers, darker, and his voice dipped lower. “Private, intensive Swedish lessons.”
She tried to ignore the tingle his words sent through her.
“So I could, for example, follow you back to Sweden and learn Swedish,” she continued, “find a job, we’d get married—”
She stopped mid-sentence when she saw his smile disappear.
“What is it? The ‘married’ part?” she said, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice.
Niklas tried to smile again, but his eyes stayed guarded. “No, go on.”
Caroline crossed her arms and frowned. “If we’re having this conversation, we’re having all of it, Niklas.”
He sighed. “Okay. It’s just that in Sweden, lots of couples live together and have kids without getting married. I never really considered getting married with a wedding and all.”
Caroline blinked. “Oh.”
“It happens a lot. It doesn’t mean a couple isn’t committed to each other.”
Niklas ran his hand through his hair and looked out the window, frowning. Caroline took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice.
“And you’re saying you’d like to be one of those people,” she said slowly. “The kind that lives together and has a family with someone without getting married.”
Niklas’s frown deepened. “I don’t know. That’s not what we were going to talk about…”
“… but now you put it out there,” Caroline finished, shaking her head.
Niklas stayed quiet, probably measuring how serious Caroline was about continuing the conversation. He let out his breath and softened his voice.
“After all the shit my parents went through, I just never imagined getting married. I’m not against commitment, and I’m not ruling out marriage. It’s just that in Sweden relationships without marriage are the norm.”
Caroline opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She knew the conversation about their future would be tough, but this? Anti-marriage? Her parents were Catholic, for goodness sakes. Despite what Niklas said to the contrary, the only reason she could imagine for an anti-marriage stance was that he hadn’t found the right person yet. Was he the kind of guy who claimed he was against marriage… until he suddenly ran of
f with some hot yoga teacher?”
Caroline tightened her arms around her waist, bracing herself. “Sounds like a woman from Sweden would understand you better.”
She didn’t even try to keep the edge out of her voice. Niklas’s eyes widened, and his mouth pulled into a tight line.
“You asked me what I reacted to, and I told you,” said Niklas, “and now you’re angry with me?”
“Not angry. Shocked is probably more accurate. And sad. I’m not sure what to think.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to process the turn the conversation had just taken. How the hell was she supposed to not take this personally? And how did they get on the topic of marriage anyway? She had decided to push aside wedding thoughts the moment she left Brad. But not forever. Could she commit to a relationship knowing they’d never get married?
Niklas leaned across the table to touch her cheek. She felt the childish instinct to push his hand away, but she resisted. He stroked his thumb over her jaw, and she couldn’t ignore the current this small gesture sent through her. She couldn’t think like this. She leaned further back in her chair, and his hand fell away.
Niklas’s expression hardened. “Caroline, if you forced me to choose between marrying you and losing you, I’d choose marrying you every time.”
“That’s about the worst proposal I’ve ever heard of. Lucky for you, I wouldn’t consider marrying anyone who uses the word ‘forced’ in the same sentence.”
“Shit,” he muttered, his mouth still grim. “That wasn’t a proposal, Caroline. This isn’t how I meant for this discussion to go.”
“Me neither,” she snapped.
He flinched and had the nerve to look hurt. The corners of his mouth twitched down.
“I already said I want a future with you,” he said. “Everything else is negotiable.”
If he had snapped back at her, she would have felt better. But the sadness in his voice made her feel worse. Again, the familiar itch to give in, to concede, took over, followed by a chaser of self-recrimination.
“Niklas, let’s just drop the marriage conversation for now,” she huffed. “We’re a long, long way from that point.”
Stockholm Diaries, Caroline 2 Page 2