“That you’re moving on without pajama tops?”
“Actually, yes.” She sets the clothing down in two little piles on either side of her. She picks at the material on one of the shirts. “We’re putting the apartment on the market. I need to be out of here by the end of the month.”
He lets the trash bag drop. Hearing her casually refer to Cass as part of a present tense we stings.
“So I had to figure out what to do.” Ari folds her legs underneath her again, as if she needs to buy a little extra time to formulate the words. His mind floods with possibilities.
A sign?
He turns his back to her and stands in front of the dresser, staring down at the open drawer, giving himself some privacy from her gaze. “There’s a solution for that.”
“Actually—”
“Move in with me.” He shuts the drawer with a satisfying smack.
“Wait, what?”
Josh turns around, leaning against the dresser. Ari’s expression is more surprised than he would like. “Move into my apartment. Or we can look for a new place. Together.”
“Like roommates?”
“No.” He drops his head for second, taking a breath, reminding himself to be fucking patient. “Not like my roommate.” Lifting his head back up, he looks her in the eye. “Like the person I’m in love with.”
The room is silent except for the occasional clank and hiss from the radiator.
He’d thought maybe her eyes would well up, that the corners of her mouth would curve into a disbelieving smile and she’d slowly rise up from the bed and embrace him. They’d hold each other, finally feeling some sense of relief.
But instead she just sits there, stock-still, mouth open.
Easing himself down beside her on the bed, he slowly reaches for one of her hands.
“Josh.” Her voice is low and quiet. She watches him run his thumb across her knuckles. Soft. “Saying that only makes this more complicated than it already is.”
“I’m so fucking tired of not saying it. I thought we were being honest now. You already said it. I know this can work. I’m sure of it. You don’t think you’re ready. But you are.” He pulls her hand up to his lips and presses a kiss into her palm. “You are.”
“Don’t tell me what—” She forces herself to slow down and breathe. “Josh, listen to me—”
“What do you think we’ve been doing this whole time? We’ve been fucking dating, Ari. It happened so gradually, we just didn’t see it. We didn’t use the word. We only needed that final piece and now we have it.”
He moves her hand down his cheek and it feels almost like she’s doing it of her own volition.
Josh tilts his head and leans down, placing his other hand on the back of her head and pulling her into the kind of kiss they should have had before she ran out of his apartment last week. Her mouth is warm and open and inviting and says everything she won’t express in words.
They fall back onto the mattress. He props himself up, hovering over her.
“This isn’t the right time,” she says. “I’m—I’m depressed.”
“I’m depressed, too. Over half the people in this fucking city are depressed.”
“Josh—”
“Depressed people can be in relationships. We could be waiting forever for the ‘right time.’ You’re perfect for me, exactly how you are at this moment.”
He kisses the hollow of her throat, listening to her breath get heavier and a little ragged as he sucks on a particular spot on her neck in a way that’s definitely going to leave a visible mark.
“Josh…” Her fingers dig into his shoulders.
He lifts the hem of the shirt （of course Cass went to Lilith Fair）， exposing the skin between the waistband of her shorts and her bralette. “You needing a new apartment? This is a sign.” He kisses along her rib cage. She’s soft and warm and everything just makes sense. “It’s a fucking sign that this is right.”
“Josh.” The volume of her voice makes him pause. “I’m not looking for another apartment.”
“What?” He stops moving.
“I accepted a job. I’m leaving New York for a while.”
“What?” He lifts his head, not quite processing those sentences. “Where are you going?”
“Washington, D.C., for now. Your mom put me in touch with the CEO of a consulting firm. He’s hiring comedians to do improv training.”