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“I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” I said, fully meaning it. My heart raced at admitting it, though. I wanted to stay, with him, with all of them. Maybe he was right.

His hand drifted out, capturing my chin and drawing my heated face to meet his eyes. “How about a tour of the condo?”

I perked up at this, but as soon as I started nodding, the sound of the front door opening caught up to us. Dr. Green released me and took a step back.

Mr. Blackbourne appeared in the kitchen door a moment later. He was back in his dark gray suit, with a crisp white shirt and red tie. He first looked at Dr. Green and then at me.

I sat up straighter, with my shoulders rolled back.

A smooth eyebrow lifted slowly on his face. “Miss Sorenson,” he said in a polite greeting.

“Mr. Blackbourne,” I said softly. I was almost disappointed, though I wasn’t sure why. I suspected it was because we’d shared an adventure together, and he was still calling me by my last name. Even looking at his perfect face, there wasn’t an inkling of familiarity any more than there had been this morning. I wanted a wink. Or that millimeter smile. He was completely unreadable.

He clutched my book bag in his hand, and held it out to me. “Mr. Lee prepared this for you.”

I nodded, sliding off the bar stool. I wobbled on the wedge heels as I landed, but quickly corrected myself.

Mr. Blackbourne squinted at me. “Is everything all right?”

I nodded and tried to hide embarrassed shaking at doing something so awkwardly in front of him. I moved forward to take the bag.

“Come on, Sang,” Dr. Green said. He stirred the spaghetti sauce once more before putting the spoon aside and wiping his hands on a towel. “I’ll show you to the bedroom.”

I followed Dr. Green, skirting around Mr. Blackbourne who took up stirring the sauce and then started opening kitchen cabinets.

Dr. Green led the way to a set of stairs, his bare feet plodding against the carpet. The second story had a narrow hallway with four doors. He went on to the last door at the end.

It was a big bedroom, with a queen-sized mattress stacked on top of a short dark wood pallet, and a very low headboard. There were tatami mats across the floor. The far wall consisted of several sliding closet doors. Low side tables next to the bed contained vases with green bamboo inside. Along the other walls were tiny paintings of cherry trees in full bloom clustered together without frames. A wide window looked out onto the front lawn. I imagined during the day, you could see the rose garden.

Dr. Green motioned to the bed. “Try it out. If you don’t like it, there’s a regular spring mattress in the spare room.”

I sat on the bed, feeling my body sink a little. It was one of those space foam beds I’d seen advertised somewhere. I splayed my hand across the deep purple comforter, pushing at the resistance of the surface. “This isn’t the spare room?”

“This is my room,” he said.

The air stilled and I stared at a bamboo vase, my nerves jumping under my skin. My nose tickled from the ginger and citrus that was from him, but I didn’t get the same scent from the room. He really hadn’t been home a lot. I tried to imagine him in this space. The image was hard to conjure up. Perhaps because I was used to him at the hospital or at school only.

“Do you not like it?” he asked quietly.

“It’s nice,” I said, unable to help myself from asking, “You’ll be staying in here?”

“Did I mention I have a spare room?”

There was some relief, but only a smidgen. That still wasn’t right. “I can’t take your bedroom.”

“You just did.”

I wasn’t just invading his space. I was taking it over. “You don’t have to...” I had a terrified thought of being alone in this bedroom. The other boys were gone. I wasn’t afraid to sleep alone, but to sleep alone in a new space like this made me positive I wouldn’t sleep at all.

He bent forward at the waist and lowered his head to level his with mine. I caught the light hazel specks in his green eyes near the pupils. “Kota mentioned you didn’t like sleeping by yourself.”

My lips parted and my pulse quickened. It wasn’t what I’d meant, but now that he mentioned it, I wasn’t often in a bedroom alone any more. Even if the guys had to leave, they stayed with me until I fell asleep, unless there was an Academy emergency. It was usually only for a short time. Someone else was usually on the way back for me.

I wanted to offer to sleep in the spare room, but I sensed there would be a fight about it, and I wasn’t likely to win. Then I realized we’d shared a bed before. I don’t know why, but I wanted to play it off as a joke just in case he wanted to reject the idea. “Yours is bigger than a hospital bed. I think I can keep my hands to myself.” I wasn’t going to be comfortable no matter what, so might as well let him have his own bed.

The curve of his smile broadening did a number on my heart. “Relax,” he said. “And scoot over.”

I leaned back, dragging myself to where there was a pillow and laying down. He crossed around the foot of the bed and crawled up. He sprawled out next to me on his side, his head propped up on his hand. I turned on my side, facing him, with my head against the pillow.

His eyes settled on my face. “I suppose this will do. The view is nicer.”

I cupped my palm around my cheek, pressing the other to the pillow to hide my blushing. “Dr...”

“Sean,” he said.

“Sean...” His first name still felt foreign to my tongue. “Dr. Sean.”

His smile lifted. “Just don’t start calling me Doc.”

“Why not?”

“Because it makes me think I’m a dwarf. And don’t do it just to get under my skin because I’ll start calling you something weird. Like Tweedle Dumpling or Pookie.” His green eyes lit up. “Wait. I take that back. I like Pookie.”

I sunk my face into the pillow, covering my eyes with my fingers. The nickname made me want to squeal for some reason. I think it was just that he was a good looking guy, and he was saying something so cute. Strong and smart Dr. Sean Green didn’t match with voicing the word Pookie.

I reveled in the name and him saying it. I started giggling.

Fingertips brushed at the back of my hand. “No, don’t you start that giggling.”

I tried to smother the urge, but it was like an infection spreading. The more I tried to suppress it, the more it bubbled just under the surface.

“You think Pookie is funny?” he asked.

I peeked out from between my fingers, hiding my goofy grin with my palms. “Maybe.”

“You’re doomed now, Pookie,” he said.

I snickered. “Doc.”

“Don’t start.” He reached out for my forearm, tugging it. When I relinquished my hand, he took it, drawing it close to his chest, grasping at my palm. “And don’t hide your face.”

The giggling bubbles stilled, soothed by his touch and gentle expression.

His smile remained and he started to scoot closer, until he was sharing my pillow with me. There was barely an inch of space between us.

His eyes traced over my face. But his lips betrayed him, and the curve of his smile tightened so much that it was clear he was holding back.

The face he was making was too much. My lips split open and I started giggling.

He let a couple of giggles spill out but caught himself. “Sang,” he said in a warning tone. He squeezed my hand in his.

It was the craziest moment. He wasn’t even saying anything now, but no matter what, I couldn’t escape his face and the giggles that wanted to come out. I was nervous, and the only way to soothe it was by laughing.

He breathed in deeply, letting it all out slowly but then he studied my face and the end of it caught in a laugh. “Sang,” he said sharper, louder.

“You started it.”

“I only showed you my bedroom. You started the giggling.”

“You called me Pookie.”

“And you like Pookie.”

I rolled away on my back a little, laughing.

His hands tugged me until I was facing him again. His shoulders shook and his eyes glistened and giggles erupted at every other word. “We need to stop.”

“You don’t have surgery, do you?”

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