Walt straightened. “Annalise, I want to make sure I’m not reading this situation wrong.”
“What is it you think the situation is?” she asked awkwardly, losing some of her fluency in English as desire muddled her brain.
The corner of Walt’s mouth kicked up. “No. I don’t think so. I want to hear you say it.”
“Say that I want you?” Annalise shook her head at herself, acknowledging that she was avoiding giving a direct answer by framing it as a question, then she paused and gave in. The old Annalise had been drawn out of her hiding spot and the woman refused to hide, to cower again.
Walt remained quiet, waiting for the answer he wanted.
She gave it to him because she was tired of lying. Not to him—their acquaintance was too short. But to herself. “Yes,” she admitted. “I do. I want you very badly.”
Over Walt’s shoulder, she saw Jakob turn his head away, his eyes closing briefly.
Stupid, imprecise language. English, unlike German, seemed to lack a clear plural form for the word you.
Before she could clarify, Walt grinned and slid an arm around her waist, pulling her against his body.
His chest was hard, his arms tight with muscle, and she was fairly certain his cock was at least semi-erect.
Walt lowered his head, and Annalise closed her eyes the moment before his lips touched hers. The kiss started out soft, just the press of dry lips. When she rose onto the balls of her feet and tipped her head to change the angle, that seemed to be the signal Walt was waiting for. His lips parted, his tongue stroking her bottom lip.
Annalise moaned and threw her arms around his neck. His tongue swept into her mouth, and she flicked it with her own. Felt him jerk in response. Her breasts felt heavy against his chest, her lower body already tight and tense.
Walt broke the kiss, breathing a little faster than before. “Wanna take this to the couch, sweetheart?”
“Or up against the wall,” Annalise said. She’d always liked being fucked against the wall.
Walt blinked. “Damn, girl. I like it.”
“You sound very American right now.” Since it appeared Walt wasn’t going to fuck her against the wall, she stepped back, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the couch. Walt grinned and let her push him down, then stretched his long arms out along the back of the couch when she climbed on top.
Now that she had Walt where she wanted him…
Annalise glanced over at Jakob, ready to invite him over, but the look on his face stopped the words in her throat.
He looked heartbroken. Did he think she didn’t want him?
“Jakob—”
“No.” His voice was hard, and her heart froze. “No,” he said again. “Do not make me watch.”
Annalise’s frozen heart broke. God, every frozen thing inside her burst into flames.
He wanted her.
“Jakob…” she said, no longer afraid of what she wanted, what she felt. She could sing an entire aria if someone asked, and she couldn’t sing. “Come here.”
“Hey, man, I thought we were all going to make out,” Walt added.
Jakob stiffened but didn’t look at them.
Annalise slid off Walt’s lap. “Jakob.”
The doubt and self-loathing that had been her near constant companions, though buried under her guilt and feelings of inadequacy, rose up once more. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe Jakob didn’t want her. Maybe he was disgusted by her, and that was why he didn’t want to see her with Walt.
Annalise retreated, the happiness she’d felt only seconds earlier evaporating as tears tightened her throat. She backed up, nearly stumbling over the low table.
Walt shot to his feet and grabbed her elbow, stopping her from falling. He looked back and forth between her and Jakob, then sighed.
He took Annalise’s shoulders and turned her, pushing her to sit on the far end of the couch. Then he marched across the room and grabbed Jakob, who, to Annalise’s shock, allowed himself to be dragged.
Walt shoved him down onto the other end of the couch, a cushion and too many unspoken words, separating them.
Walt moved a chair around so he could face both of them. “All right, you two, it’s time for a come to Jesus meeting.”
“A what?” Annalise asked, utterly confused.
“Time to put your cards on the table. Put up or shut up.” Walt’s lips twitched, and he winked. “I’m saying it’s time to have a very frank and honest conversation about your relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” Annalise said softly. “I am the reason Jakob has no time for himself. I am just the…the coward who needs protecting. A burden.” Every word she spoke felt like a dagger through the heart of the old Annalise, the one she thought she’d rediscovered. She wasn’t certain she’d ever felt heartbreak until this very moment.
“No.” Jakob’s single word was hard and fierce. “You are not a burden. Not a coward.”
“But I am. Objectively, I—”
“I protect you, take care of you, because I love you.”
Annalise’s breath caught.
Walt blinked. “Well, that escalated quickly.”
“Jakob, you…” Annalise didn’t know what to say.
“You remodeled, decorated that house for her, didn’t you?” Walt asked.
Jakob nodded.
“I knew it!”
Jakob looked up and glared at Walt.
Annalise scooted over, reaching out to touch Jakob, but he shot to his feet, moving away from her. She pulled her hand back, utterly confused.
“I am no better than your stalker,” Jakob said. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Annalise. You consume my every waking moment. I stay close to you, protect you, because I can’t imagine a world where you don’t exist. I love the way your hair curls over your shoulders when you undo your bun at the end of the day and the way your forehead crinkles right here,” he pointed to a spot between his brows, “whenever you’re working on something difficult, something troubling. Walt’s correct. I built that house for you because I wanted you to live in a place that didn’t feel like a cage but rather a home. I didn’t know who I was, what I wanted in life, until I met you. I would dedicate my life to making you happy, to making you smile, but I know…I can’t help…” Jakob swallowed hard. “I’m like him.”
“Wait. Stop.” Annalise didn’t know how to reply because she hated his comparison. How could he believe that he was no better than her stalker? How could he truly think that?
Regardless, it was quite a speech from Jakob. It was more honest than even their late-night chats on her couch, the conversations that had made her fall in love with the real Jakob, the man whom no one else saw.
He loved her, but he didn’t trust her.
“You are not like my stalker,” she said.
“I am. I invaded your privacy—”
“To protect me.”
“—I used what you told me to—”
“—build my dream house. That’s not—”
“—it is, because—”
“Time out.” Walt stood, holding a hand out toward each of them. “Take a knee.”
Jakob looked at the ceiling, then crossed his arms. “Be less American.”