Page 166 of My Lucky Charm

“Uh, hello?” I say.

At that, the mattress shifts, and Gray appears behind it.

I frown, step back and lift my chin, ready for a fight. “What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“No. You fired me.”

“I can explain that,” he says.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

He looks at me, side eyes the mattress, and then back at me.

“That’s a mattress.” I say.

“Yeah.”

“Why are you here with a mattress?”

“You said yours has a spring that sticks out,” he says simply.

That takes me off guard. “You remember that?”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath. “I remember everything you say.”

At that, I soften, but only a little. Because even though this is incredibly sweet, and really, really strange, I’m mad at him.

“Did you already get a new one?” he asks.

“Uh, no. I didn’t.”

“Great.” A pause. A shake of the mattress. “Now you don’t have to.”

I’m so confused by this odd turn of events, I can’t think of a single thing to say.

“Should I take this thing back, or . . . ?” he asks.

I move out of the doorway. I’m still upset, but I remember that Gray is one of those people who says or does really nice things but in a rude way. A walking contradiction.

He lugs the mattress inside, and I close the door, watching as he leans it against the wall.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure what size to get,” he says. “But you said your apartment was small, so I guessed a full?”

I nod. “You guessed right.”

“Can I? Do you mind if—” He motions toward the bedroom, which is in full view of the front door.

“Uh, sure?” I’m still trying to figure out what is happening.

I pick up my ice cream and start eating it because there’s no way I’m letting it go to waste. I assume he’s going to explain why he fired me when he’s finished with this huge production of removing my old mattress and setting up the new one.

I’m mid-bite when he asks over his shoulder, “Do you have fresh sheets?”

I put my spoon down. I walk to the linen closet and pull out my only other set of sheets, then walk them back. “I can make my own bed.”

He grabs them out of my hand. “No. Go eat your ice cream.”

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