Rent a Boyfriend - Gloria Chao Page 0,7

only family heirloom we Chans passed down was insecurity and an inability to communicate. Michelle was my only client who’d asked for a refund, but those damn soaps haunted me at night when I couldn’t sleep, especially on jobs.

To get my mind off midnight pie, I started counting jumping sheep wearing different pajamas (the wilder the better, all designed by me, of course). And finally, finally, I started drifting off.

Then I heard footsteps.

Chloe CHAPTER 5

MIDNIGHT MOONCAKES

Andrew’s tall frame was smooshed on the couch, his back to me and his face buried between the cushions. It must be terrible to sleep in so many strangers’ homes, feeling vulnerable, assuming a different identity. Unless the person I’d seen tonight was just him? Doubtful. At least he was well compensated for his discomfort?

Despite having grown up in this house, I stepped right smack-dab in the middle of the creaky step, the one that had been squeaky since I could remember and was identifiable by its crooked wood. I was so totally off my game here, even though the definition of “home” told me I should feel otherwise. My eyes darted over to the couch as I inched closer to the kitchen. Given Andrew’s too-steady, too-quiet breathing, he must be awake. Whether it was my fault or not, I wasn’t sure. I briefly considered abandoning my mission altogether, but… pie. Instead I tried to hurry past him.

I’d cleared the living room, my back now to him, when I heard, “Couldn’t sleep either?” from behind me.

I pasted on a smile and turned to face him. After a couple of awkward seconds with me rocking back and forth heel to toe, I uncharacteristically admitted, “Most people can’t wait to get home and sleep in their childhood bed, but it makes me a ball of—”

“Shénjīng,” he finished for me. The Mandarin surprised me, enough to make my head pop back—and your double chin appear, my mother said in my head.

“Uh, yeah.” Except I wouldn’t have said it in Chinese.

“I picked up on your nerves during dinner,” he said in a low voice as he stood and followed me to the kitchen. While I turned on the light and took a quick survey of our options, he continued, “Is it because I’m here and you’re worried about how it’s going? Because I can tell you from experience you can let some of that anxiousness go.”

“Thanks,” I said, even though my unease in this house had been present since way before I’d paid him into my life.

I grabbed the pie and some paper plates. But right before I dished it out, I pointed to him, then the pie, and raised my eyebrows to ask if that was what he wanted. His eyes widened in surprise before he caught himself and nodded at me.

My gaze focused on my busy hands as I asked, “Are you not used to people asking what you want? Because your job is all about pleasing others?” I briefly wondered what his family was like and what they thought of his Rent for Your ’Rents position.

“It’s a rarity because of the line of work, yeah, but I assume most of the world is like that too?”

I shrugged. “People are selfish.”

The silence between us filled with unspoken experiences, but the agreement was palpable.

My tongue savored each bite, rolling it around to mimic all the thoughts rolling around my mind.

“Don’t you want to ask me more questions? Like why I did this?” I asked.

“I already know why.” He was staring down at his pie.

“Well, you know what I chose to tell you, on paper.” And I may not have told you everything, because I just couldn’t bring myself to. “You can’t fully understand from just a few words, can you?”

He shrugged. “You’re pretty good with them.”

“You flatter me—is that a reflex?”

He laughed, one short exhale. “No? Maybe? I don’t know anymore.”

“It’s been that long, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess, and it feels even longer than it’s actually been because I have to, uh, really immerse myself.” He fumbled a bit, scratched his neck, and I backed off.

The little tics that manifested now almost made him look like a completely different person. One without glasses. When he shifted in his seat, I couldn’t help myself.

“How do you do it?” I asked. “Turn off a part of your brain? Is it like a performance? Is it something you can train yourself to do?”

He sucked on his bottom lip. Eventually he said, “It’s one of my rules that I don’t really talk about