Boy from the Woods (9781311684776) (18 page)

Gaby was
awake when Julia entered the
bedroom.
“Hey,” she said.
“Did you get any sleep? You were tossing and turning all
night.”

“Yeah, I slept all right. I did dream a lot,
though.”

“You said Michael’s name a few times.”

“Oh.” Julia pulled a face. “Yeah, that sounds
about right. He’s such a stalker he won’t even leave me alone at
night.”

Gaby started to snicker.
“And you think that’s bad?”
She winked
exaggeratedly.

“Of course I
think
that’s bad! I want to know what’s
up with him before I can rejoice in the fact he’s visiting me in my
dreams.”

When they got
downstairs and walked into the kitchen, Julia’s mother was just
putting a plate of toast and a big bowl of scrambled eggs on the
table. “Mom, you’re amazing,” Julia said gratefully. “We’re
famished.”

Gaby and
Julia started wolfing down their breakfast. Anne
sat tucked into the corner of the kitchen bench seat
reading an old Harry Potter paperback while munching on a
banana.

“Mommy’s
taking me to the movies after breakfas
t,”
she announced happily. “She’s working an afternoon
shift.”

Julia
shot an inquisitive look at her mom, who pulled
a ‘gotta-make-amends’ face. Anne was probably still upset because
of yesterday’s fight. Maybe she’d been writing about that in her
diary this morning.

After
breakfast, the two girls walked to the bus stop. They
rode the same bus on the first part of the trip,
but after a few stops Gaby had to change to get to the riding
school. “Keep me up-to-date about developments on the work floor,
okay?” She grinned mischievously. “I wonder how Michael is gonna
behave toward you today.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “I
will.
Have fun mucking out the
stables.”

Her stomach started to do strange flip-flops
when the bus neared the Old Town. Julia got off and turned her
hesitant steps to the bookstore.

On the
Höllrigl doorstep, Donna, Silke and Marco were already waiting for
the store to open. No sign of Michael. Julia let out a relieved
sigh. She secretly hoped he wouldn’t show up today. Maybe he was
sick, or maybe he’d even decided to quit.

“
Hey there,”
Julia greeted her colleagues.
“Hasn’t Martin opened
shop yet?”

Silke shook her
head.
“He just called Marco to let us
know he’s running late. Oh well – it’s not like people are breaking
down the door to buy books early Monday morning,
anyway.”

After ten
minutes, both Martin and Michael rounded the corner into the
street. Julia groaned inwardly. So he
was
working today, after
all.

“I’m so
sorry,” Martin panted. “I’m not setting a very good example
here. Good to see at least
you
all are on time
like you’re supposed to be.”

Marco coughed loudly and jerked a
mock-inconspicuous thumb at Michael.

“A few
aside,” Martin added with a grin. He unlocked the door and
everybody stepped inside one by one.

It didn’t
take long for Martin to give them
each a
task for the morning. Julia was asked to hit the stockroom with a
list of titles her boss wanted to put in the bargain bin this week.
It was a chore she could do alone, for which she was thankful. It
looked like she’d have a quiet morning.

Humming a
happy tune, Julia padded up and down the aisles, checking the
shelves for the titles Martin
wanted her
to select. The list featured quite a few poetry collections that
were to be sold at fifty percent off, so that was good news for her
– she’d put some aside so she could buy them before the regular
Höllrigl customers had a chance to swoop in.

Julia was
just
busy sorting a pile of novels when
she heard a soft knock on the door. When the door swung open,
Michael was standing on the threshold smiling at her. “Martin
wanted to know if you need any help,” he said.

She quickly shook her head. “No, I’m fine,”
she replied curtly.

Unperturbed,
he entered the stockroom. “Well, it’s sort of slow downstairs at
the moment. Why don’t I lend you a hand? If I read out the titles
from the list, you can look them up and take them from the shelves.
It’ll be much quicker.”

With a
suppressed growl Julia scrambled to her feet.
So much for a quiet morning – now she’d constantly fret
over the fact he was in the same room, hoping he wouldn’t bring up
their awkward encounter at the party. They should have called this
Mentally Taxing Monday.

Michael sat
down on the stool next to the door, picking up the list from the
floor in the process. “Herman Hesse,
The Song of Life
,” he read out
loud. Julia quickly made her way to the H section and looked up the
title Michael had given her. He read out several others and she
looked those up as well, without exchanging a single word with him
or even looking in his direction. When she finally turned around
because he’d been quiet for a while, it turned out he put the list
down and was sorting through the pile of books on the floor that
she’d put aside to buy herself.

“They’re
mine,”
she snapped involuntarily, as if
he was trying to steal them from her. Michael Kolbe reading poetry
for fun? Not very likely.

“Rainer Maria
Rilke,” he said
, glancing in fascination
at the book in his hand.
“I don’t know him.”
He handed her the poetry collection. “Here, why
don’t you pick one of his poems to read to me. I bet you’re good at
that.”

Julia raised an
eyebrow.
“I thought you came here to help
me so we’d work faster.”

He raised a
lopsided smile and her heart skipped a beat. “Oh, come on, live a
little. A short break won’t hurt.”

She
huffed
grouchily and sat down on the
floor next to the stool Michael was sitting on. Flipping through
the pages, she picked a random poem and ended up reading out the
twenty-fifth Sonnet to Orpheus.

“You whom I loved like an unnamed
flower,

plucked too soon, I will tell them of you as
I

seek your shifting image and again
remember,

beautiful companion of the irrepressible cry,”
she read with a voice that was trailing off more
with every stanza she read.

Julia felt
the heat rise to her cheeks. Somehow, this poem sounded like it was
about
them
.
She
had loved him like an unnamed flower because
she’d had no idea who he had been.
She
was seeking his shifting
image, trying to hold on to a memory of a romantic and mysterious
guy that wasn’t even real. And of course, he had almost been
plucked too soon – plus the description ‘beautiful companion of the
irrepressible cry’ seemed to fit the bill perfectly when it came to
him. What twist of fate had made her read this to him out of
all
the
sonnets in the damn book?

And then, he
put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up li
ke a deer trapped in headlights, her face flaming when his
eyes bored into hers, gauging her thoughts.

“What
is that poem about?” he said in a dark
voice.

Oh, no.
Michael was onto her. He could sense this poem reminded her
of him. He had to know he was making her nervous, and she was no
longer sure she’d be able to resist his charms.

“I… I don’t
know,” she stammered. “I’m not some kind of Rilke
expert.”

He shook his
head. “I mean, what
this poem means
to
you
?” he mumbled.

Julia
swallowed when he moved closer to her and the energy in the room
shifted. Staying here was way too dangerous – she had to get out
right this instant.

“I, uhm, I’m
not sure,” Julia hedged, closing the book abruptly. “Uhm, sorry. I
have to go get a drink. My throat is dry.”

She hastily
got up, pelting out of the door without waiting for a reply. With a
trip-hammering heart, she crossed the landing and barreled into the
break room without breaking stride. Michael’s footsteps echoed
behind her. Panting for breath, she closed the door and leaned
against the kitchen counter in the right corner, her hands
trembling.

But
then, the door opened again. Julia shrunk away
from Michael stepping into the room, coming straight at
her.

“Go away,” she muttered.

He came to a
halt in front of her, his eyes asking her something she didn’t know
the answer to. Wordlessly, he raised a hand and gently traced her
upper arm.

“I’m
serious,”
Julia said hoarsely.
“Leave me alone.”

He came even
closer and leaned into her, his body pushing her up against
the
counter top. Her breathing sped up
when Michael used his other hand to caress her back, resting his
fingers just above her tailbone.

“I can’t,” he
replied, a desperate look in his eyes.

He had told
her the exact same thing at the party yesterday, and it was still
as stupid and inexplicable. “Why the
hell
not?”

Michael took
a deep breath, gazing
into her eyes from
inches away. “Because I’m in love with you,” he said with quiet
determination.

This was
crazy.
Did he really think she would fall
into the same trap twice? Blankly, Julia shook her head. “I… I
don’t believe you,” she whispered almost inaudibly, tears welling
up in her eyes. She had to tell him this because she needed to
protect herself, but how she wished she
could
believe
him.

Michael
cupped her face with his hand, wiping a lone tear away from her
cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

And then he
was kissing
her. Very, very softly, he
pressed his lips to her mouth. It was such a tentative caress it
hardly qualified as a kiss, but Julia’s body begged to differ – it
responded to his touch like gasoline to a spark. Her mind was
trying to be sensible, but her body definitely wasn’t. A pink blush
graced her cheeks when she eagerly kissed him back. When she heard
him moan softly it only turned her on more.

Everything
about this felt perfect.
This
was the kiss she’d always
imagined back in the days she had fantasized about Michael. She
circled his torso with her arms and pulled him even closer. Feeling
him this close was so good. As he held her tightly and met her
fiery kisses with equal passion, Julia didn’t have a choice but to
believe he was speaking the truth.

However
puzzling it all might sound, he was truly in love with her. This
was
real
. She could feel it in the way her heart beat, the way his
warm and gentle hands caressed her, the crackling electricity in
the air between them. She had never felt this before, not even
during that one particular night at his place.

Michael
’s breath was ragged when
he finally pulled away from her. He touched her face and smiled.
“I’ve got something for you,” he said in a low voice, pulling a
folded sheet of paper from his jeans pocket.

Julia
accepted it with a dazed look in her eyes.
“What is this?”

“I wrote it
for you.
Last night.” Michael shyly looked at the
floor. “It’s a poem.”

“For me?”
Julia stood with mouth agape. In what kind of
parallel universe did a guy like Michael write
her
a poem? This had
to be a dream. She never woke up this morning, and Gaby would soon
smack her on the head with a pillow to take her out of
Wonderland.

“I hope
you’ll do me the honor of reading it. I’ve never written anything
like this before.” The insecure tremble in his voice made
her
heart melt. If this wasn’t a dream,
then it was definitely a dream come true.

“Of
course
I’ll read it,” she said hurriedly.
“I’m just…
blown away. I honestly don’t know what to say.”
Sweet angels in Heaven – he had kissed her, apologized to
her and written her a
poem
. No mortal words would
suffice.

T
heir private talk was
interrupted by Martin shouting up to Michael from the
stairwell.
“Kolbe! Can you come downstairs?
There are customers who need your
help.”

Michael took
a step backward and pulled the door open. “I’ll be right there,” he
called back, all the while grinning at her
mischievously.

Julia gave him a bashful
smile back. “Go on,” she said. “Go do your job.
And thank you. I’ll talk to you later.”

The door
slammed shut. With trembling fingers,
she
unfolded the sheet of paper, resisting the urge to start reading
immediately. First, she walked over to the electric kettle to make
herself some tea. While her bag of green tea was steeping in a mug
of hot water, she glanced sideways to the poem on the table, her
thoughts drifting back to the kiss they’d shared
together.