Room-maid(47)

“Me neither,” I agreed. “Except for maybe my mom’s gift-wrapping room.”

He totally stared at me. “Your mother has a gift-wrapping room?”

My first instinct was to lie and laugh it off because I knew how weird it sounded. While it was strange to everybody else in the world, it had just been my normal, how I’d grown up. But I didn’t want to be dishonest with Tyler.

Well, more dishonest than I had been already in the name of self-preservation. “Of course she does. She’s not going to wrap her presents on some random table like a heathen.”

He laughed at that, but he sounded tired. “I guess that makes sense.”

I couldn’t have explained what possessed me to say to him, “I like your shoes.” It was like I wanted to get caught. As if now that I’d decided to choose honesty, my brain decided to be honest about everything. I wanted to dig a hole in the floor that I could crawl into. What was wrong with me? Why had I said that? When you were hiding something from someone, it was generally a good idea not to act like an idiot and draw their attention to it.

“Thanks.” He seemed distracted. “I’ve had them for a long time. But today for some reason they seemed really tight.”

“Well, I think I remember hearing once that when you travel your feet can swell. All that sitting.” I was so going to spend my eternity being the devil’s permanent houseguest.

“Maybe. I’m going to go get changed.”

Then he left and it turned out that I had no reason to worry about seeing him again because he acted just the same, as if we hadn’t pressed our bodies tightly together while barely clothed in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

Not that I’d been thinking about it or anything. Not that I’d been harboring some secret hopes that maybe last night had meant something, that he might have changed his mind.

While I sat around feeling sorry for myself and my poor, misguided dreams, Tyler came back in the room. He headed straight for the kitchen and set a box down on the counter. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I already ate, thank you.” I mean, I could have eaten again. But he seemed exhausted, most likely jet-lagged, and I was feeling guilty. Not to mention that the idea of sitting down with him at dinner and chatting about our days felt a little too cozy. Intimate.

“That’s good, because, to be honest, I am feeling worn out and not really up to cooking. I think I’ll grab a frozen dinner.” He took one out of the freezer, tore off the outer packaging, and then slid it into the microwave.

“You never did tell me what the tissue paper is for,” he reminded me as his dinner heated up.

“My school has a fundraiser coming up. A winter festival. And they put me in charge of these decorations and told me I had to make them by hand. It’s something they do to new teachers. Because we’re on probation they give us the grunt work. Joke’s on them, though. I’m terrible at it.”

The microwave beeped and he took his dinner out, tore off the plastic, and turned the contents onto a plate. It looked like some kind of chicken-and-rice recipe, and it smelled delicious. He grabbed the box he’d brought in with him and came into the living room.

Then, to my surprise, he sat next to me on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, being sure not to disturb my stacks of paper. So much for not wanting to share a cozy moment with him.

“Here,” he said, handing me the box. “I brought you something.”

“You brought me something?” I repeated as my heart slammed into my chest, hard.

His eyes sparkled at me with delight. “Open it.”

Gulping, I nodded. There were Asian letter characters on the outside, and I opened the box carefully, painfully aware of his gaze on me.

Inside, there was a small plush Hello Kitty holding an apple in one hand and a book in the other. She was a teacher.

He’d remembered the store in Singapore. I couldn’t believe it. My pulse pounded so hard I was in actual danger of passing out.

“Thank you. This was so thoughtful.” I didn’t know what else to say. If I could say it. If I was allowed to tell him how much this meant to me. That I wanted to cry from the sweetness of it.

That I would keep this for the rest of my life, and that it was the best present I had ever received.

“You’re welcome,” he said, oblivious to my emotional turmoil. “Have you done anything fun over the past couple of days?”

I blinked a few times and cleared my throat. I needed to be normal. “Other than being terrorized in my own home last night and destroying tissue paper?” I teased, and was rewarded with his smile. “The most fun thing I’ve done lately is . . . my friend Delia lent me her label maker at school and it’s kind of altered my entire life. Like, if she wanted to start a cult worshipping it, it’s possible I would join.” Since I had already filled out my paperwork to join the cult of Tyler, what was one more? “What about you?”

“Just work and more work for me.” He gestured toward the TV. “What are you watching?”

“Oh, this is a show called House Hunters. I’ve seen so many episodes of this that I’m pretty sure I could pass a test to become a licensed real estate agent. It’s about couples looking for a home and they walk through three different houses and then pick one. Usually you can tell in advance which one they’re going to choose. It’s always the empty one because they’ve already bought it but just haven’t moved in yet.”