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“What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says, bashful. Then he corrects himself. “No. Not nothing. The opposite of nothing. I’m just really glad you’re here. And I’m looking forward to another day with you, if you’ll do me the pleasure.”
“Breakfast first,” I say. “Then we can figure this out.”
“Sounds good,” he says, bouncing out of bed. “Help yourself to clothes, towels, shampoo, books, Post-its—whatever you need.”
“Will do.”
He teeters in the room for a moment. He looks so sweet.
“I love this, whatever it is,” he says.
I can’t help but smile back at him. “Yes,” I say. “Whatever it is.”
“No oatmeal, right?”
“Yup. No oatmeal.”
He whistles as he heads downstairs. I listen until he’s too far to hear.
His laptop sits on his desk, beckoning me.
I know what I should do. I know what A wants me to do.
Only, I’m stubborn now.
I like Alexander. But I want A.
I want to find A.
