He grins and heads out the door, and I lie in bed listening to the bike start up and fade into the distance.
Hours later, I'm at work, elbow-deep in electrical wiring on the third floor of the office building, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I almost ignore it—Frank doesn't like us checking phones on the job, says it's unprofessional—but something makes me glance at the screen.
It's a text from Jay:I got it.
I stare at the words for a second, not comprehending. Then my phone buzzes again.
The job. I got the job. Full time, benefits, starting next Monday. They want me to restore a 1968 Triumph Bonneville as my first project.
I'm grinning so hard my face hurts. My hands are shaking as I type back:I knew you would. So proud of you.
His response comes immediately:Couldn't have done it without you.
Yes you could have. You just didn't know it yet.
Three dots appear, disappear, appear again. Then:I love you.
Love you too. Can't wait to hear everything.
I slip the phone back in my pocket and get back to work, but I can't stop smiling. The guy working next to me notices.
"Good news?" he asks.
"The best news. My boyfriend just got his dream job."
"Nice. Good for him."
That night, Jay tells me everything over dinner—takeout Thai, eaten cross-legged on the living room floor again. "The shop is amazing," hesays, practically vibrating with energy. "Wall-to-wall vintage bikes. And the owner, Rex—sixty, handlebar mustache, been running the place for thirty years. He had me diagnose a Honda that'd been giving him hell for three weeks. Ten minutes to figure it out."
"And you did it?"
"Six minutes. Carb sync issues and a dying ignition coil." Jay's whole face lights up. "He shook my hand and asked when I could start. The pay is good and there's health insurance. Can you believe it? The first project is a 1968 Triumph Bonneville. Complete restoration. The exact same year as my bike."
I pull him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you."
"I'm starting to believe I deserve this," he says quietly against my neck. "The voice that tells me it's all going to fall apart—it's getting quieter every day."
"Good. Keep telling it to shut up."
He laughs, warm breath against my skin. "I'm working on it."
We spend the rest of the evening celebrating, talking about Jay's new job and planning his first week.
Sunday comes, and with it, our first official dinner at Rosalyn's as a couple living together.
Jay is nervous on the short drive over, fidgeting with his jacket, checking his hair in the visor mirror.
"They already know you," I remind him. "They like you. This isn't an audition."
"I know. But last time I was visiting as a guest. This time I'm... I don't know. More permanent. Part of your life for real. What if that changes things? What if they liked me as a visitor but don't want me around all the time?"
"It won't change anything except making things better. Trust me."
Caleb is waiting on the porch when we pull up. He's down the steps before we're even out of the truck.
"Jay! Jay! I learned a new dinosaur fact!" he shouts, his words tumbling over each other. "Did you know the Argentinosaurus was as long as four school buses? Four whole school buses!"
Jay crouches down to Caleb's level immediately, giving him his complete attention the way he always does. "No way! Are you serious right now?"
