He was headed toward my apartment. I sighed. He was letting me stay and trying to not make me feel bad about it. And walking me to my door to boot. But when we got to the door, he opened it and started to scuff off his boots on the rug. "What…" I stopped my rude question just in time.
"I thought it was obvious." He grinned, daring me to say something. "I'm inviting myself in."
"Um, you don't have to-"
"Look." He gave me that look. The one that said he was serious, the one that said he was about to be so sweet, it made me ache. "You want to stay with your brother because he's sick, you're worried about him. OK, I get that. It's not a problem. Stay. But I'm not ready to say goodnight yet. So," he continued, taking my hand and playing with the tips of my fingers, "we'll order some take-out, you can watch over your brother and I get to hang out with you. We can watch a movie or something."
I just stared. I didn't know that the male species even had the capacity to dream up a sweet plan like that. Apparently, I didn't give him enough credit. He winced when I didn't say anything. "If that's OK, of course. I wasn't trying to overstep." He nodded his head once, like he understood something. "You don't want me to meet him yet, do you? Yeah, I was moving things pretty fast, I guess." I tried to speak, but he backed up a bit and rubbed his hair. "I'll see you next week. I hope he feels better-"
"Milo, shut up," I scolded and laughed a breath. "A girl can't get a word in."