Page 66 of I Knew You Were Trouble

I’d lie here examining this conundrum further, but I’m desperate for the loo and I can’t tell if Willem’s awake. Will passing by his bed or closing the bathroom door wake him? I wait a few minutes longer, listening out for signs he’s awake, and when I can’t stand it any longer, I climb out of bed and tiptoe around the end of the bookcase into the lounge.

When I glance to my left, Willem is scrolling his phone, one arm behind his head. His eyes fix on mine and he smiles. ‘Good morning. I wasn’t sure if you were awake yet, so I was careful not to make any noise.’

‘Me too,’ I confess, ‘but I… uh…’ I point towards the bathroom. ‘I’m just going to…’

I rush across the room, conscious that I’m only wearing a nightgown – ashortnightgown – and close myself in the bathroom. After weeing, I wash my hands and splash water on my face. I dry my hands and face and regard myself in the mirror. Not bad, I’ll admit. I’ve certainly looked worse in the morning. But before I go back out there, I quickly run my toothbrush around my mouth and rinse. It’s unlikely that Thor and I are going to lock lips any time soon, but if morning breath can be avoided, it should be.

When I open the bathroom door, I’m confronted with the aroma of coffee. I round the corner into the kitchen and Willem is at the coffee maker, wearing the jeans he had on yesterday and nothing else.

Fuck me– and I mean that both figuratively and literally, because even in profile, I can tell he’s got a muscular V that points to his groin.

As if you need directions, Kate.

‘That smells good,’ I say, passing by him to go to the fridge. Our host has been generous, supplying us with milk, cheese, and eggs.

‘They only have pods,’ he says apologetically, and I recall that he has a proper coffee machine back in Amsterdam.

‘That’s okay, I don’t mind. I could make some breakfast? There are eggs.’

He turns, and the full force of his potent gaze nearly knocks me off my feet.

‘I thought we could get an early start – have a quick coffee here, then stop somewhere for breakfast. Maybe get somerealcoffee,’ he adds with a slightly superior smirk. So, a coffee snob then. Honestly, I’m happy enough with Douwe Egberts. That’s all I have at home.

‘Oh, okay. Sounds good.’

He hands me a mug of coffee and I busy myself with adding milk, then offer it to him. He declines, instead adding some cold water from a bottle and drinking his black.

‘What time do you think Lucia will be at the gallery?’ I ask, purposefully avoiding looking anywhere below his neck. Though, he’s so handsome, it turns out to be a rubbish tactic for keeping my libido in check. Or my heart, which is now fluttering faster than a hummingbird’s wings.

‘Her website says 12p.m. but…’ He lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.

‘Time is a little more fluid here than in the Netherlands?’ I ask.

‘That’s my experience. But, since you’ve never been here before, I’d really like to show you some of my favourite places before we go to the gallery.’

‘That’s— You don’t need to do that.’

‘Oh.’ His face falls. This obviously means more to him than I thought.

‘But, if you’re offering, then I’dloveit. I mean,appreciateit. It’s such a beautiful city – from what I saw last night, and I’ve seen pictures and videos online, of course. And a couple of films that were set here.’

I sip my coffee, more to shut myself up than for the caffeine. I can tell he’s watching me. Probably wondering why I’ve suddenly been afflicted with verbal diarrhoea.

‘Good,’ he says, flashing a lipless smile. ‘Did you want to take the first shower?’ he offers.

‘Yep, great.’ I leave my half-drunk coffee and beeline to the bedroom area, where I quickly check the forecast, then cast my eyes over the contents of my case. Which of the outfits I’ve brought will be most suitable for sightseeing with a gorgeous Dutchman, then breaking a stranger’s heart?

I opt for light-blue linen palazzo pants, a white linen T-shirt, and espadrilles, which should be comfortable enough for walking on cobblestoned streets.

Twenty minutes later, I’ve showered and dressed, and as I apply my makeup, I try not to think about the naked man showering at the other end of the flat.

‘Kate,’ I say to myself in the mirror by the bed, ‘you’re here to break the bad news to Lucia. This isn’t a romantic getaway, you muppet.’

‘Sorry, were you talking to me?’ Willem calls out.

‘No, I uh…’GAH!‘Ready to go?’ I ask, hoping like hell he didn’t hear what I said.

‘Almost – just need to put my shoes on.’

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