“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.”

“We should watch it.”

“You want to watch TV with me?” I asked, a little alarmed. What if he hated my shows? Then I wouldn’t be able to maintain my crush. Then again, this could be a good thing. Friends weren’t really your friends until you’d forced them to watch your favorite TV programs.

And that was even more true for boyfriends.

“I like television. I used to watch it a lot when I was younger. But I went to college on scholarship and spent all my time working or studying. Then I got this job and most of my time is dedicated to working. I never really take the time to relax.” He put his emptied plate onto the table, near his feet. Again I had that feeling that there was something more than what he was saying, a whole subtext I wasn’t getting, but I didn’t want to push or pry because I had the sense he didn’t like it. That while he was very good with people and getting them to talk about themselves, Tyler wasn’t the kind of guy who would tell you things about himself until he trusted you.

I hoped someday he would trust me that way.

“My parents forbid me from watching it and you know what happens when people say you can’t have something and it makes you want it more?” All too late I realized that this also applied to him and me—I suspected that a tiny portion of my attraction was due to the fact that he was completely off limits. “Anyway, it kind of turned me into an addict. So allow me to be your guru to effective TV relaxation. And if we’re going to start you off with reality television, we’re going to do the granddaddy of them all. The Bachelor. Your life will never be the same again.”

“I’ve heard of that one but I’ve never seen an episode.”

I grabbed the remote and began clicking on the controls. “We’re going to rectify that right now.”

Tyler picked up one of the packages of tissue paper. “Hey, do you want some help?”

I nearly wept with gratitude. “Yes! I would love some! Bless you!” I had the show queued up, but I gave him a quick run-through of how to fold and then fluff out the pom. He seemed to grasp it pretty quickly and then I explained the premise of the show we were about to watch.

It was easier to focus on the show instead of on the way he was making me feel. Bringing me presents, being interested in my shows. It almost seemed like another one of my daydreams. Only better. “Okay, so there’s a single guy—”

“That’s the bachelor?”

“Yes. And there’s, like, thirty women who are competing to end up with him. Each week he eliminates some of them until we get to the finale and then he proposes!”

“How long does this show film for?”

I shrugged. “A few weeks, I think.”

“And they get engaged in the end? That’s what they win?” He looked dubious.

“What did you think they’d win?”