I stood by the wall, still trying to catch my breath, my hand on my chest, when the door opened. Dad slowly walked in, in his hand, a plate of badly fried pancakes and a cup of orange juice.
"Dad."
He smiled. "Fabian didn't stay for breakfast anymore. Turns out he lied about the breakfast thing."
I caught his knowing look as he kept the plate on the bed, and I felt warmth flush my cheeks.
"Well, uh... I was..."
Dad slowly turned to me. "Do you like him now?"
I blinked, biting down on my lips. "Well..." I slowly covered the distance, then sat opposite him. "I don't know."
Dad gave a small smile as he handed me the fork. "He seems pretty decent, though. And... quite into you."
I swallowed, the paintings flashing in my mind's eye. I hadn't quite processed it all.
"Uhm... what did Ger
