I was sure I'd never used that key in front of him. 我很确定我从没在他面前用过那根钥匙。

"I was curious about you." “我对你很好奇。”

"You spied on me?" “你监视我？”

But somehow I couldn't infuse my voice with the proper outrage. I was flattered. 但无论如何我都没法让自己的声音充满恰当的愤怒。我被过度奉承了。

He was unrepentant. "What else is there to do at night?" 他依然不知悔改。“夜里还能有别的事情可做吗？”

I let it go for the moment and went down the hall to the kitchen. 我暂时丢卡这个话题，穿过前厅走向厨房。

He was there before me, needing no guide. 他在我之前就到了那里，无需任何引导。

He sat in the very chair I'd tried to picture him in. 他就坐在我在脑海里想象过的那张椅子里。

His beauty lit up the kitchen. 他的俊美点亮了这间厨房。

It was a moment before I could look away. 我花了一点时间才能把视线移开。

I concentrated on getting my dinner, taking last night's lasagna from the fridge, placing a square on a plate, heating it in the microwave. 我集中精神准备自己的晚餐，从冰箱里拿出昨晚的意大利番茄汁宽面条，切下一方放在盘子里，微波炉加热。

It revolved, filling the kitchen with the smell of tomatoes and oregano. 它旋转着，厨房里弥漫着番茄和洋葱的味道。

I didn't take my eyes from the plate of food as I spoke. 当我说话的时候，我并没有把眼睛从那盘食物上移开。

"How often?" I asked casually. “多久一次？”我若无其事地问道。

"Hmmm?" He sounded as if I had pulled him from some other train of thought. “呃嗯？”他听起来似乎在想别的事情，我的发问把他的思绪拉了回来。

I still didn't turn around. "How often did you come here?" 我还是没有转身。“你多久来这里一次？”

"I come here almost every night." “我几乎每天晚上都来这里。”

I whirled, stunned. "Why?" 我大为震撼，急忙转过身来。“为什么？”

"You're interesting when you sleep." He spoke matter-of-factly. "You talk." “你睡着的时候很有趣。”他实话实说。“你会说话。”

"No!" I gasped, heat flooding my face all the way to my hairline. “不！”我喘着气说道，热血涌上了我的脸，一路冲到发际线上。

I gripped the kitchen counter for support. 我抓住流理台以稳住身子。

I knew I talked in my sleep, of course; my mother teased me about it. 我当然知道自己会说梦话，我母亲还为此取笑过我。

I hadn't thought it was something I needed to worry about here, though. 但是，我从没想过这会是我需要担心的事情。