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“Who is it?” I call out, wondering if Tyson or Cole decided to stop by to cheer me up.
“Delivery!”
I don’t recognize the voice, and I’m glad I haven’t yet changed into my comfortable house clothes as I open the door.
“Miss Anders?” The delivery man holds out two things, a paper bag that smells promisingly full of food, and a box wrapped in deep purple paper.
“That’s me,” I say, taking the packages. “Thank you.”
“Someone thinks you’re pretty special,” the man says. When I reach into my pocket to tip, he waves me off. “I’ve already been tipped generously, no worries, ma’am, just enjoy your dinner.”
Tyson. I set the packages on the counter and turn to the wrapped gift first, pulling the silky white ribbon free. I don’t recognize the company logo embossed in silver script on the box. Probably out of my price range. I remove the top from the box. It’s a gorgeous leather backpack, soft, red leather with gold buckles. Eyeing my ratty old high school backpack on the floor, I can see why Tyson might feel the need to get me an upgrade. That one was on its last leg, with the strap ripped halfway off and the zipper that won’t stay closed, except when I want it to open and it refuses. Not to mention numerous unidentifiable stains from its many years and hundreds of miles of loyal service.
“Way, way too much,” I mutter as I lift the bag out of the box and, after wiping the space clean, set it down on the counter. It’s almost too pretty to actually use.
I open the curtains to let the last of the day’s light in and snap a picture of the backpack to send to Tyson with a note.
Me:This is gorgeous, seriously. Thank you so much! You really overdid it, though. How did you know?
Tyson:I’ve only been watching you fight the zipper on your old book bag since the day we met. I’m pretty sure everybody knew. Besides, that strap should have snapped years ago??.
Me:Well, thank you.
Once the new backpack is safe in the haven of my room, I tear open the bag of food. Barbecue. The smell of tangy, sweet sauce rising up from the bag instantly sets my mouth to watering. A container of Mac and cheese sits on top, nestled in next to one of cornbread. He is so thoughtful he didn’t even skimp on the carbs. I unwrap a smaller bag that’s tucked inside. Chocolate chip cookies, still so warm the chips are gooey. I can’t resist, and I take a big bite from one of them and let out an audible mmhh… as I chew.
Me:Oh my god, these cookies are to die for.
I sit down and spread the food out in front of me. It’s more than even I can eat in one sitting, but I’m certainly going to try. My phone buzzes and I pick it up with my only two clean fingers, the rest covered in barbecue sauce.
Tyson:You went for the cookies first, didn’t you?
Me:Maybe.??
Tyson:You’re lucky I’m not there.
Me:But I wish you were.
Tyson:Really? I was worried after this morning that you might not want to see me again for a while.
I can’t blame him for that, the way I’ve been playing hot and cold lately probably has him second-guessing everything I do and say.
Me:I was just panicking. I miss you already.
Tyson:Miss you too. Long day at work today, so you’ll have to eat that food and think of me. I love you, Jordan. More than I ever knew I could love someone.
My stomach clenches. I can’t say it back. Not yet. I’m not ready.
Me:Don’t work too hard, I need you around.?
I study while I eat, working my way through most of the food and all the cookies. Before Tyson, a night home alone with a bag of fresh-delivered carbs would have beentheperfect evening. But now all I can think about is how much better it would be if he were here.
Chapter 30
Tyson
I’muptomyelbows in soapy water, my clothes soaked, when my phone rings in my back pocket. The ringtone echoes in the bathing room, making the dog I’m washing tilt her head to find the source of the sound.
“Probably just work,” I say to her, lathering up the ruff of her neck for the second time. Her too-small collar had been on for so long it left a deep indent in her fur. Another week and it would have started to press into her skin, too, if not choke her. “They can wait, don’t you worry, girl.”
