“They’ll have plenty of time to catch up,” mom says, nudging Theo’s parents toward the kitchen. “Chrissy, honey, why don’t you show Theo upstairs?”
I turn to face him and his perfectly aligned teeth. What’s he smiling about, anyway? My pulse picks up pace. This is a crisis unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.
He hefts his suitcase up as though he’s ready to check into a hotel. “Lead the way.”
We climb to the second floor, and I open the door to what used to be dump-your-stuff-here space after my sister moved out. Mom must have cleared the boxes from the room because it’s tidy, with a bed and dresser—bare minimum of furniture.
Theo steps in and places his suitcase down, surveying the room with a critical eye.
“This used to be Maisie’s room,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
Theo nods, running his hand along the edge of the dresser. “How is your sister these days?”
“She’s a teacher at Colton Hayes Elementary School down in Unity Grove.”
“Does she live with her boyfriend?” He glances back at me. “What was his name again?”
“Andy.” The name comes out flat. He was never my favorite.
What I don’t say is that I’m pretty sure things between them have hit a rough patch. Maisie’s been dodging my texts lately, and when she does respond, her messages feel clipped, like she’s hiding something.
Theo crosses to the window and peers out at the backyard, hands shoved in his pockets. “I remember she used to let me play with her art supplies when we were kids. She was always drawing something or writing poems.”
“She still does.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Mostly on weekends now.”
He turns back toward me, and for a second his expression softens into something almost nostalgic. Then that trademark smirk returns. “So, roomie, what are the house rules I should know about?”
Roomie?Oh, that’s not how this will go. He doesn’t know it yet, but we are to be strangers, avoiding each other at each turn.
“Don’t touch my stuff,” I say, crossing my arms. “Don’t hog the bathroom. And definitely don’t bring your fan club over here.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Fan club?”
I scoff. “You know what I mean.”
“Actually, I don’t.” He steps closer, tilting his head. “Enlighten me, Chrissy.”
My pulse picks up pace. He’s standing way too close for comfort, close enough that I catch the faint scent emanating from his body—something woodsy and annoyingly pleasant.
“Just . . . keep your social life at school,” I manage, hating how breathless I sound.
“Deal.” His grin widens and, to my relief, he takes another pass about the room. “So, does this hotel offer any additional amenities?”
I raise an eyebrow as I gesture to the mostly open space. “Welcome to Chateau Lang, where you can enjoy such amenities as . . . self-service everything.”
Theo laughs, his hands tucked deep in the pockets of his jeans as he stops in the middle of the room. “So, no breakfast in bed? No mints on the pillow?”
I cock my head, feigning thoughtfulness. “Hmm. I’ll see if I can dig out an expired mint from the bottom of my bookbag for you.”
His cool smile tells me he’s amused, which catches me off guard. “Guess I’ll have to rough it,” he says, giving the room another look-over before starting to unpack. “Thanks for the five-star tour.”
I step back into the hall, as nonchalant as I can, but unable to deny the strange excitement coursing through me as I shut hisdoor and go to my room. Sharing a home with Theo Pearson? No one would believe it.
Flopping onto my bed, I grab my phone and dial Stephanie.
“Hey! What’s up?” she says.
“Oh, not much,” I reply, doing my best to sound bored. “Except Theo Pearson is living at my house.”
