“But maybe I could sleep on the roll-away thing. I mean, it’s your bed.”
He hid his smile and turned toward the stairs. Silly girl was too nice for her own good. “Just get in, will you? It’s late.” He made his way down to clean up.
Despite appearing composed, his heart was still racing, even after several moments at the kitchen sink, watching as water filled the two mugs to rinse them out.
He was thinking about her green eyes, trying to determine who she was. She didn’t seem like a troublemaker or a bad kid. He knew looks could be deceiving, though. He considered doing a little research and asking Mr. Blackbourne to run a background check on her. Maybe her old school records would reveal more about her.
She wasn’t in danger at the moment. She didn’t appear bruised from her home life and she was able to goof off a bit with him. Both were good signs.
So what would drive such a girl out of her home?
He breathed in deeply, pulling the air in to fill his lungs until near bursting, and then held it for five seconds, counting backward slowly, before letting it all out between his lips.
Trying to figure her out wasn’t his favorite sort of puzzle. He could be completely wrong; maybe things were worse than he thought. He’d just have to keep an eye on her.
Maybe in the morning, she’d talk more. It had been a strange night, she was probably overwhelmed.
When he returned upstairs, she was in his bed on her side with the blanket pulled over her. When he slid the roll-away bed out, she didn’t move at all.
When he finally settled in, he listened to her gentle breathing, counting along as she slept so close. He focused on her to push the problems away and blank out his mind. He wouldn’t be able to help her at all if he was tired in the morning.
One hundred...ninety-nine...ninety-eight...He counted down to get to sleep.
♥♥♥
The vibration of his phone alert was what woke him. His eyes parted, and while he couldn’t see fine details of the room, the dim gray light washing in via the window was enough to let him know it wasn’t yet six.
Had he meant to set his alarm this early? He tried to recall what he’d meant to do that morning but wasn’t yet awake enough to recall. He stretched and yawned, then turned with blurry eyes toward the spot where he usually kept his glasses, and then reached further when he couldn’t feel them. Then he froze when he realized he wasn’t in his bed.
Kota blinked, rubbed at his eyes, and looked over at the lump in his own bed and then down at himself in the pullout. He instantly remembered last night. Sang. The girl who needed help.
Kota cringed, feeling silly for forgetting. He must have slept harder than he’d realized. He’d meant to keep an ear out in case Sang decided to leave early on her own.
But she hadn’t. He got up as quietly as he could, checking on her, noting how she was sleeping. He couldn’t see her face, but she was breathing normally.
He counted the seconds between when her chest started to drop until it rose again. Long, steady breaths. She was well asleep.
He hurried, as quietly as he could, to collect his clothes and to get downstairs. He dressed in the bathroom and then found Sang’s clothes in the dryer.
He was about to leave the laundry room when he heard Max bark once, and then the padding of footsteps coming toward him.
Kota reacted quickly, snatching up a towel and wrapping it around Sang’s clothes just before the door opened.
His mom stood there, bleary-eyed, her short brown hair sticking up on the side. She was carrying her basket of dirty clothes and paused in the doorway. “Kota?” she said, her voice softer than normal, a little rough. She coughed once to clear it. “Did you just throw in a load? It’s not your normal day...”
Kota counted to stop himself from blushing as he thought about Sang upstairs in his bed. Tell the truth, even if it’s not the full truth. “I came in for an extra towel,” he said, and was about to give a reason but then stopped himself. If she didn’t ask, he didn’t have to make one up.
“Hmm hmm,” she mumbled. “Well then get out of the way, this basket is heavy.”
“Let me take it,” he said, but she nudged him out of the way. He shrugged. “Let me get some things out of the way and then I can help with breakfast.”
“By the way, there was a letter in the mailbox for you.”
“A bill?” he asked, expecting his cell phone bill, which he covered.
“No, just a letter. I didn’t know you had a friend in Virginia. Did you get a new pen pal?”
He almost shook his head and then stopped himself. “Oh, yes. I...” He stopped again. He didn’t have an answer. Best just to be casual about it, but he was curious. He didn’t have a friend in Virginia. The fact that she’d asked specifically about a pen pal made him suspect it was a hand-written envelope, so it probably wasn’t junk mail, either.
He considered going to get it, but he needed to hurry along, too. Sang could wake at any moment and walk downstairs. He didn’t want to have to explain to his mother why there was a girl up there.
His mother had turned toward the washing machine and was loading her clothes inside. Kota backed away and started toward his room again when she called out to him.
He stopped and poked his head back into the laundry room. “Yes?”
“Is Victor still coming over?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I was trying to get some chores out of the way. I still need
