I nod, running my hand down my face, feeling stupidly defensive. "But that's it… I think. I mean, she hasn't ever had another boy over before, so…"
"So, cross that bridge if and when we get there?" she asks cautiously. Her expression is genuine, but I find myself trying to decide if she's just being thorough or if she's questioning me.
"Yeah."
Tess nods.
"I mean, no."
She cocks her head to one side.
I groan. "I don't know, maybe."
She parts her lips to speak, one brow raised.
"No," I repeat more sternly. "Final answer."
Tessa doesn't push—she simply waits for me to decide—or not.
"Well…" I drag my fingers through my hair, my hand landing on my hip. "Maybe if the door's open."
She walks toward me, smothering a half-smile. Once we're side-by-side—her facing the door and me still stuck in place—she taps my shoulder twice. "We'll cross that bridge if and when we get there."
Her tone is light, but not judgemental, and something about it eases the knot in my stomach. She steps into the hallway, and I blow out a heavy breath, squeezing my eyes shut and willing time to turn back ten seconds.
Or better yet, ten years.
"I assume this is your room," she calls from the hall.
I spin around and move toward the entrance to find her standing outside my bedroom door. "It is." She gives it a passing glance, and I use the time to shake off the feeling her last question left me with.
Tess attempts to seem uninterested by my open closet and king-sized bed, but her cheeks are slightly pinker when she takes a few more steps.
"And those are the guest rooms." I gesture to the two doors at the end of the hallway, one on either side. "Levi's claimed this one," I announce, pointing to the one on the same wall as Ruthie's room. "But this one's yours."
Her gaze darts to me after I point to the spare room next to mine. "I didn't think this was a live-in situation," she says, her tone laced with sudden panic.
"Oh, no, it isn't," I explain. Then, stupidly, "Unless that was something you wanted, then I guess we could—"
"No," she blurts. She quickly paints a smile and tucks a nonexistent hair behind her ear. "I mean, no thank you. Trevor and I, we… we have an apartment, and we're right across town so…"
The sound of his name leaves me instantly irritated. The way he's treated her, or at least what I know of… if Ruthie's future boyfriend ever acted that way…
"That's fine." I temper my tone, pushing open the door. "It's mostly for when I'm away or there's a late event. God forbid an emergency." I step inside, and she follows, taking in the room. "I just want you to have your own space." She smiles to herself, letting it go. "So, no one will stay here as long as you're working with us. This room's yours—to sleep in or not."
Tess runs her hand along the soft, cream-colored comforter. She peers out the large window overlooking the spacious backyard, and glances into the connected bathroom and walk-in closet. Everything looks neat and neutral—exactly what I long for life to feel like again.
I watch her, trying not to notice too much that she definitely seems different from the past replacements—different from most people. I don't find her faking her way through a conversation or overcompensatingwith sweetness. The steady confidence, the humor, the banana bread—it all seems genuine. Just like she does.
For the first time in weeks, I get a sense that maybe my judgement isn't as horrific as I thought after all. Like maybe I'm not cursed with bad luck, and this year still has the potential to be everything it should be—memorable and momentous. For both Ruthie and me.
But then, that shadow that's been looming sends a shiver through me full of reminders about the past—recent and not—and I force reality to settle back in.
"So, what's next on the tour?"
I lock eyes with Tessa, pleasant and hopeful—exactly how I'd love to be about the situation.
But I can't.
