“What do you think we should do this weekend?” I tease with a wink.
“Oh my God, you’re here,” he exclaims, launching himself at me and throwing his arms around my neck in a crushing hug.
“I thought I’d surprise you,” I laugh, hugging him back just as fiercely. “God, I missed you so much.”
I finally kiss him, slow and deep, right there in the doorway. After a few blissful moments, I pull away from him, grab the bag of food I dropped, and step inside.
“We’re going to see each other in two days,” he says, still stunned. “Why’d you come all this way tonight?”
I set the food down on the counter, turn to him, and cup his face.
“Because I couldn’t stand being away from you for one more second. I brought dinner, but I need to ask you something first. Can we sit?”
His brow furrows slightly, looking nervous, but he nods. We sit on the couch, our knees touching, and I take his hands in mine.
“I know we haven’t been together that long,” I begin. “But it doesn’t feel like it’s only been a few days. It feels like… something we’ve been building toward our whole lives.”
He nods, his eyes locked on mine.
“Will you move to Astoria and live with me? I know it’s fast, and I’m sure people will tell you to take it slow, but I don’t care. I moved across the country to be with you, not just to see you on weekends. I love you, and I want you with me all the time,and—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he climbs into my lap and straddles my legs.
“Sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his arms around my neck, “you don’t have to keep selling it. You had me at move in with me.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I want that.”
Relief floods through me. “Oh, thank God. I thought I’d have to talk you into it.”
I lean in and kiss him. Then I pause. “Wait… sweetheart?”
“I know, I heard it too. I’ve been trying to come up with a pet name for you, but that’s one my mom uses.”
I snort. “You can call me whatever you want. But yeah, that’s not it.”
“Well, I can’t call you baby,” he huffs. “You claimed that years ago. And I’ll never call you babe. That’s what you know who used to call me, so that’s out. I’m sure I’ll come up with something when you least expect it.”
“Oh, great,” I laugh. “You’re going to call me something like Stud Muffin in the middle of sex and completely ruin the mood, aren’t you?”
“Probably,” he says with a smirk.
God, I love him.
We kiss again, playful and familiar, but then his stomach growls.
“Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I’m starving. And you brought food from my favorite Thai place, which makes you the best.”
“I want to spoil you.”
And I mean it. He’s a good man, better than he allows himself to believe. He deserves to feel loved and cared for every single day. And I intend to do just that.
Over dinner, we talk about the logistics of him moving in with me. His apartment is already on a month-to-month lease, and after this week, he’ll be working most of the time remotely. Everything lines up.
Since most of his stuff is in storage, we decide to pack up what little he has in his apartment, rent another moving van, and move him this weekend. It can’t come soon enough.
