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she nodded and grabbed an extra towel and washcloth for him from the clean load in the dryer.
    “Have you eaten yet?” she asked before he closed the bathroom door.
    “No.”
    “Can I make you something?”
    He turned, opening the bathroom door again, that smile on his face. “I would greatly appreciate it, sweetheart. Thank you.”

Chapter Seven
     
    It wouldn’t be hard to lie about what they ate. Loren made him a grilled cheese sandwich and fed him the rest of the leftover tomato soup she had put in the fridge. The same meal she’d had earlier.
    When he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam fifteen minutes later, no trace of the two strange odors remained. He smelled like her shampoo and soap, his hair damp.
    She sat at the table with him and watched while he ate. “Oh, I didn’t get you something to drink. I’m sorry.” She started to stand, but he gently caught her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it, staying her.
    “I can get it, sweetheart.” He stood and retrieved the clean glass she’d used earlier from the drain board, a few ice cubes, and water.
    When he returned to the table, he smiled. “This is good. Thank you.”
    She blushed a little at the compliment, secretly thrilled by it. “Just grilled cheese and soup. Nothing fancy.”
    “Is this what you ate earlier?”
    She nodded.
    His smile widened. “Good girl.”
    Something inside her twisted in a good way. She loved the way it sounded when he said that.
    He also wouldn’t let her wash his dishes for him. He did it, standing there wearing his towel and nothing else. By the time he finished with that, his clothes were ready for the dryer. She pulled the clean towels and sheets out of the dryer and dumped them on the couch to fold.
    After a test sniff of the wet laundry, Ross nodded and put them into the dryer. He started to put his sneakers in with the clothes, then reconsidered.
    “These will make a lot of noise. If they’re still damp in the morning, it won’t kill me.” He walked over to her bedroom door and set them inside the doorway. Then he joined her at the sofa, helping her fold the laundry.
    “Can I use one of these sheets tonight?” he asked.
    “Why?”
    “For the couch. And do you have a spare pillow?”
    “Why are you sleeping on the couch?”
    He turned to her again, his arms resting on her shoulders. She wanted to drop to her knees in front of him, wrap her arms around his legs, and beg him to never leave her.
    Instead, she struggled to focus on what he said.
    “Sweetheart, believe me, I do want to sleep with you. But I don’t think you’re quite as ready for that as you might think you are. You and I need to have some talks before that happens.”
    “We can talk tonight.”
    He gently smiled, looking a little sad. “I know. But I also need to see what the next few days bring. I refuse to make you a promise I can’t keep yet.” He captured her hands again and drew them up to his bare chest.
    She felt his heart beating against her hands. “Loren,” he said, “In addition to what I’ve already asked of you tonight, I need to ask one more thing.”
    She nodded.
    “I need you to trust me. And to understand that I have a plan I can’t talk to you about right now. I need to ask for your patience. I’m not going anywhere. Not willingly, at least.” That caveat chilled her, but he continued. “We’ll have a talk soon. But I need you to be able to wait. Can you do that for me?”
    “For how long?”
    “Not long, I hope. Likely before the end of the semester.”
    She breathed a sigh of relief. That was just a few weeks away. “Okay.”
     
    * * * *
     
    Ross had apparently meant what he said. He refused all her attempts to get him to sleep in bed with her, even if just to sleep, or to let her take the couch and let him have her bed. Or even take her bed and she’d sleep in Emily’s room.
    He did tuck her into bed, though. And told her she could keep her bedroom door open, if she wanted. From