Page 100 of I Think I’m in Love with an Alien

“That’s so true! It’s weird how tired you get, just sitting in a car.”

“I would like to rest if that is acceptable. I can use the small room or share with you, whichever you prefer.”

I don’t know the right answer here. “I’ll leave it up to you. I was fine in the motel, but if you’d prefer more privacy…”

“I’ll share with you,” he says at once.

That alacrity puts a smile on my face. I shoo the cats and get up, heading to the kitchen to put away the casserole and make a simple PB&J. Once I eat, I take a quick shower, then do my usual bedtime self-care and put on a comfy oversized sleep shirt. Tam has probably used his incredible hygiene gadgets. He’s already there when I get into bed; the sheets are cool and inviting. My body gravitates toward his.

“Jen,” he whispers.

There is wonder in the way he says my name, as though he can’t believe he’s truly here. Neither can I. He’s the proof I dedicated my life to searching for, but I feel no need to parade him around. No, that desire has been superseded by fear that he could be taken from me. I remember the two guys from the con; they probably can’t get to us here, but I don’t feel completely convinced that it’s over.

And what if he figures out a way to leave? We could be together for years, then he’d just suddenly be gone. I cuddle him close, breathing in the bright spices of his now-familiar scent. He must have turned off his tech camo after closing the curtains because my eyes agree with what my touch declares—that his differences are exquisite and rare.

But I’m too sleepy to marvel for long.

“Sweet dreams.” I fall asleep beside him, lulled by the cadence of his respirations.

The next morning, I stir as the doorbell chimes. My eyes snap open.

“Who do you think it is?” Tam asks.

“Not sure. I’ll go see.” I pad barefoot to open the front door, rubbing sleep from my eyes.

“Surprise!” My sister barges in, carrying a paper bag that smells like pastries. She’s probably been to the Franz Bakery Outlet. I love the raspberry-filled doughnuts. Mom’s right behind her, and ordinarily, I wouldn’t mind them dropping by unannounced.

I hope Tam can activate the tech camo before my family sees him. Actually, I’m not even sure if it’s something he wears or had implanted. I can’t search the living room for his gear without them following me. My heart pounds so loudly that I can hear it in my ears.

“We thought we’d catch up after breakfast, see how your trip went.” Glynnis sets the bag on the kitchen counter.

Just then, I hear movement, and the footsteps are far too loud to belong to Scotty or Spock, who come trotting into the kitchen in search of cat food.

“Is someone here? This early?” my sister asks.

“Tam,” I say, trying for a casual tone, as if I’m talking about my long-term boyfriend, not someone I’ve talked to online for a while and just found out is an alien a few days ago.

“I demand details,” Glynnis says.

Mom hasn’t said a word, which is bad for me. Under normal circumstances, she’s a chatterbox. I should have had four stories about her senior group, the WTF ladies, by now. But she’s just staring, eyes narrowed. Then Tam steps into the hall, and to me, he looks as he always does as a human. But who the heck knows how he appears to Glynnis and Mom? And I can’t ask because that would be so weird. I can imagine the convo:

Me: Ha-ha, how does Tam look to you? Please describe him.

Them: Are you okay?

Me: Not even slightly.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Morning,” Glynnis answers, her gaze flicking between us. “This is…new. Jen hasn’t mentioned you.”

“New is good. And I’m happy,” I say.

Mom’s lips press into a thin line, her analytical eyes doing a sweep. “How long will you be staying?” she asks, her tone suggesting it should be a short visit.

“I’ve been traveling,” he says, which is true enough.

“A digital nomad, huh? Are you a tech worker?” Glynnis leans against the counter, her interest mingling with skepticism. “Or are you trying to launch a vlog channel?”