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“So what?” I crossed my arms and bounced my leg faster.

“So what?” Yaël repeated, leaning forward. “This is a big deal! When was the last time you were so interested in someone? That has to mean something.”

The truth was, I was someone who got bored easily. But with Dominic, it was different. He was a challenge I just couldn’t tire of. It was strange how connected I felt to him.

Did he feel the same?

I had no idea.

When I said goodbye to him last Saturday, I couldn’t help myself—I made out with him in front of Nico and Hector. Not because I wanted to prove something, but just because I felt like it. Just shaking hands and walking away would’ve felt wrong.

The kiss visibly unnerved him. Before he could ruin my good mood with unnecessary words, I stepped back and gave him a Shakespearean bow.

“Sorry. No offense to your resolution. But a little kiss has nothing to do with sex.”

“What are you doing?” Dominic had hissed, while Nico and Hector grinned.

I hadn’t seen Dominic since then, but my mind was overflowing with ideas on how to seduce him.

“So who is he?” my mother asked as my father served her a steaming cup of coffee and kissed the top of her head.

“Hamlet,” I replied, shooting daggers across the table at Yaël because she had started it.

She raised her wine glass in a smug toast to me.

“Hamlet?” my father asked, sitting back down at the table. “The actor?”

“No, the Prince of Denmark,” I answered in a snarky tone.

“And what’s his real name?”

“Who cares?” I groaned and stared at the ceiling.

I wasn’t ready to share Dominic with my family yet because I had no idea what was going on between us. It was definitely “something”—even Dominic had acknowledged that when he referred to “us” in the café bathroom. But I had to admit, this whole celibacy thing was like a huge, well-lit monument in the room, leaving me confused.

Of course, I had googled erectile dysfunction to understand it better. Even though I—like probably every man—had experienced the issue at some point, I was pretty sure that Dominic’s problem was more than just stress-related impotence. There was something deeper going on; otherwise, he wouldn’t be in therapy.

Or would he?

Either way, I couldn’t shake the feeling that his erectile issues were part of something much bigger, but Dominic completely shut down when discussing it.

“That’s great, Kilian,” my father said, sounding proud.

I had no idea why he was making such a big deal out of it. The last time I thought I was in love—or at least had convinced myself I was—I scared the girl off with one of my phases, and she dumped me on Instagram. After half a day, I was over it and had to admit that it couldn’t have been real love.

“We still have some cake left from yesterday,” Mom said. “Linzer tart. Who wants some?”

While my father and I had a slice, Yaël told us about her orchestra rehearsal and how she’d been granted the privilege of playing on a valuable cello belonging to a patron.

Dinner at my parents’ house never lasted long, and by eight o’clock, I was already on my motorcycle, heading back to the city. Yaël preferred the train, claiming she was afraid of speed. She was probably just scared of riding on the back of my bike with me.

For me, the faster, the better. Plus, I could feel the darkness creeping inside me. My bouncing leg was a sign of a phase I could fend off with a ride.

About an hour later, just before Bern, I noticed a police car tailing me. I glanced at my speedometer and shook my head.

I wasn’t speeding. Well, maybe a little, but not excessively. Reluctantly, I pulled off at the next rest stop and parked near the restroom. I hopped off the bike, removed my helmet, and set it on the seat. That’s when a police officer approached.

“Was I speeding?” I asked.