"Buenas noches, Andrea."

Erik's hand settled beneath my jaw, gently lifting my face to meet his gaze. His intense green eyes pierced through me, and my pulse quickened as he leaned in towards me. Just as his ginger beard grazed my lips, tickling me, an unpleasant sound jolted me awake, causing me to sit up in bed with my heart pounding.

My phone was ringing, and I immediately recognized the ringtone I had set for identifying Vir's calls.

"Always at the most opportune moment, Virginia," I grumbled, reaching out to grab the phone, answer it, and then lay back down, shielding my eyes from the light seeping through the curtains with my forearm.

"I want to know everything. Wait... you picked up very quickly. You're not with him, are you?"

I removed my forearm and glanced at my phone for a moment before pressing it back to my ear.

"Are you crazy? How could I be with him? Virginia, it's…" I pulled my phone away again. "Nine-thirty in the morning. Why are you calling me so early?" I complained.

"It's half past ten for me; it's time for you to get up and spill the beans about what happened last night," she demanded. It was then that I remembered we had a one-hour time difference. I sat up in bed, rubbing my face with my hands and stretching my back.

"Nothing happened. I told you it wasn't a date," I replied, yawning as I pulled the phone away. "He came to pick me up, we went to dinner, I invited him in, and he declined," I summarized.

"What do you mean he declined? Are you sure? Maybe you misunderstood..."

"Vir, he shook his head. I had a great time last night; he's a really fun guy, but that's it. There's no further interest on his part. Besides, we've only seen each other twice. Do you think I'm living in a romantic comedy?" I asked, with a hint of annoyance. "35-year-old woman gets her heart broken, decides to move to a remote Scottish island in the middle of nowhere, doesn't speak the language, and on the first day, she meets a ginger Viking who could be a god and falls in love with her at first sight."

Virginia laughed on the other end of the phone, and I covered my face with my hand. Yes, that was exactly what she was thinking.

"You know? That should be your story," she said, completely confident in her tone. "Why don't you write one of those romantic novels that they later adapt for television and make us believe in love?" she asked.

"Because those things never happen. They're not realistic."

"Andy, that's why we like them. Because they're pure fantasy! I would read it, without a doubt."

"You're my friend, you'd read even my grocery list," I complained.

"That's true too," she admitted. "So, how was it? Did you find it difficult to communicate with him?"

"Not at all. He decided we were going to have a silent dinner," I smiled, remembering a couple of hilarious moments.

"You had a silent dinner? How boring."

"Not really. Erik made sure language wasn't a problem, so he said we'd do mime only, and hey, turns out we understood each other," I said, noticing Vir's full attention on my words. "I think the waitress, Nora, is his cousin, she's also a redhead, and very pretty..."

"Don't talk to me about his cousin; keep telling me about the dinner," she scolded.

"That's it. He asked his cousin for a notebook and a pen, and between mime and drawings... we understood each other perfectly. Did you know his birthday is on August 13th?" I asked, a little excited.

"What a coincidence. How old is he?"

"38, I think."

"And what else did you find out through mime and drawings? What a funny date. I would have never imagined having one like that. Considering how much I like to talk."

"Dinner," I complained on the other end. "He likes dogs, motorcycles, I think he enjoys traveling, has no kids, I think." I wasn't sure about that part, but I could guess. "He's the lighthouse keeper on the island, likes his coffee black without sugar, and judging by his tattoos, he's into Norse mythology."

"And nothing else?"

"What else do you want me to tell you? We didn't talk that much. He's fun, always has a smile on his face, and seems a bit cheeky. I don't know... he's an interesting guy," I murmured, getting up and heading to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast.

"And you like him."

"Oh, come on. We're what, 15 years old? I don't like him. He's... attractive. But that's it," I said, feeling a pleasant sense of vertigo in my stomach.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

I opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get something I had bought at the store the day before.

"In a few days, you'll tell me. I know you," she hinted. I preferred not to answer to avoid giving her more reasons to tease me. "What plans do you have for today?"

I looked out the window; it wasn't a great day. The sky was gray, and it seemed like the wind was blowing quite strongly at that hour. Taking a walk of an hour and a half to the lighthouse wasn't something I felt like doing, although the reward was seeing him, and that always appealed to me.

"I don't know. He mentioned meeting up today. I think he wants to lend me a book, but it's miserable weather," I said, taking the milk from the fridge and pouring myself a cup with some cocoa powder. "He lives in the lighthouse, which is an hour and a half walk. Maybe if the weather gets better later... Plus, I'm not sure if he's there. I'll text him first."

"Do you have his phone number?"

"Uh... yeah," I glanced at the palm of my hand, where his number was written.

"Does he have yours?" she asked, with a suggestive tone.

"Yes... where are you going with this?"

"Nowhere. Have you texted him?"

"No. Of course not. I don't want to seem pushy. Just because I have his number doesn't mean I want to bother him."

"No, of course not. You've already said he's a nice guy. He probably just wants you to have his number in case anything happens, someone to call if something goes wrong. Imagine you twist your ankle walking in the middle of nowhere," she hinted, though I sensed some sarcasm in her voice.

"That's it. Exactly that," I said. I picked up the cup and placed it on the table next to the couch, sitting down.

"Text him," she ordered.

"Are you crazy?"

"Yes. Text him," she insisted.

"Andrea, stop acting like a child. We're strong, decisive women, and if you want to talk to him, you write to him. Don't play hard to get, or wait for him to make the first move."

"You're a strong, decisive woman, and you're the one who wants me to talk to him," I countered.

"Don't make me come to that remote demon island to drag you out from under the bed," she warned, and I shivered. Virginia was completely capable of showing up on the island in two days just to tell Erik in person that he was my type.

"Fine, I'll text him later to see if I got the book thing right."

"That's what I like to hear," I could almost sense her smile on the other end of the phone.

"Bossy."

"Coward."

I rolled my eyes, looking at the ceiling for a moment and stirring the milk in my cup with the spoon before taking a sip.

"Do you think I should write about my journey?" I asked.

"I think you have a natural talent for talking about love, even though you haven't experienced it properly. Maybe that's why. You know the theory, but you have no practical experience whatsoever."

"Well, I must have some experience; Oliver and I were together for 20 years."

"Don't mention that jerk," she hissed.

"Yes, ma'am," I laughed.

"Don't think too much about what to write. Just write," she advised, and I nodded. "And obviously, keep me posted," she requested.

Vir was the only one who followed my progress as an aspiring writer. She always said she liked the way I narrated things, and it was she who insisted I write something now that I had free time, as my life didn't depend on chasing after a completely immature adult man.

"As soon as I have something, I'll show you. I'm going to have breakfast and then try to find some inspiration."

"Text him," she reminded me, making me smile.

"Alright, nag."

"We'll talk later, coward."

We both hung up, and I looked at the bay through the window. It took me a few seconds to pick up my phone and open the contacts to save Erik's number, which I hadn't done yet to resist the temptation to write to him too quickly, but... thinking that if I didn't do it, I might lose his number, and I didn't want that either.

Once I did it, I opened WhatsApp and saw that he was online. I enlarged his profile picture and held my breath. It was a picture of him next to the lighthouse. He was wearing that damn black shirt that suited him so well, his tattooed arms exposed, and he was gazing into the distance. I bet Nora took that picture.

My phone vibrated, and I thought it would be Vir insisting I write to him, but no, I received a message from him, just three emojis.

Thumbs up, sun, coffee cup, and a question mark.

"Good morning, coffee?" I tried to guess, smiling like an idiot as I looked at the three emojis.

I sent back the smiling face with glasses emoji, another sun, the coffee, and a thumbs up. I wasn't even sure what I had put.

He sent an emoji of a clock and squinted at the hands. 10 o'clock? I checked the time. It was a quarter to ten. Fifteen minutes left until 10. I swallowed nervously.

I replied with the same emoji and thumbs up, leaving the cup of milk on the table and going to the bedroom to get dressed. I had 15 minutes to not look like I had just gotten out of bed.

The phone vibrated, and I looked at it. A red car emoji and a winking face. Okay, he was on his way. I replied with a smiling face and quickly got dressed. I opted for the dark jeans from last night and a dark gray cotton t-shirt, along with a knitted sweater that I hoped would keep me warm. I also went to the bathroom to try to fix my hair a bit. I had forgotten to tie it up, and now it was completely tangled, and if I brushed it, it would be worse than a zombie apocalypse.

I tied it up in a ponytail, applied some cologne, made the bed quickly, and just as I was placing the cup in the sink, I heard a couple of knocks on the front door.