Then I take a deep breath, about to say something I know is completely insane. Something that’s probably going to make Noah think I’ve lost my mind. But the words are already forming, pushing their way up my throat, and I need to get them out.
“Move in with me, then,” I blurt out.
Noah blinks, his expression freezing.
“What?” he says for what has to be the tenth time in the last five minutes.
“Move in with me,” I repeat, more firmly this time, the idea taking shape even as I say it. “Let’s find an apartment together. A real one in a good building, not the shithole we live in now. Somewhere with actual insulation and walls thicker than paper. I’ll pay for it. We can get a place with a yard.”
Noah stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, his mouth slightly open.
“For Pumpkin,” I add quickly. “So we can adopt her right away.”
Noah’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times, no sound coming out.
I’ve shocked him into silence.
Great job.
“Noah?” I say, looking at him. “Say something.”
Noah keeps staring at me. Then he finally manages, “Are you insane?”
My stomach drops, but before I can backpedal, Noah lets out a shocked, happy laugh that makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
“Don’t laugh,” I say, but I’m smiling too, my hands tightening on his waist. “I’m serious.”
“You’re proposing we move in together after one weekend of fake dating and one hookup?” Noah says, still laughing, his eyes bright with disbelief. “That’s insane. That’s rom-com logic.”
“So?” I challenge, feeling bold and reckless and completely in love with the man in my lap. “Who says rom-coms can’t be real life?”
“Well, not you. Have you seen yourself? You’re a serious guy with a serious job.”
“So?” I repeat. “Move in with me.”
Noah shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re scaring me. Are you one of those narcissists who’ll get tired of me in two weeks?”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“I’m not, I swear.”
God, I should’ve known Noah wouldn’t make a proposal like this easy.
He has no idea how out of character all of this is for me. I’ve spent my whole life being careful. Serious. Thinking every decision through before I make it. But my gut is telling me to do this. I know it’s right.
And if Noah weren’t staring at me with those big, confused eyes right now, I might have already asked him to marry me.
But that will have to wait.
For now.
Noah stares at me, his laughter fading into something more thoughtful.
“You’re really serious,” he says, and it’s not quite a question.
“I am,” I admit. “Look, I know it’s fast. I know we should probably date like normal people first. Get to know each other properly. But Noah—” I swallow hard, my heart pounding. “I already know I want you in my life. Not just for now. For good. What you said about being happy for the first time in a long time—I feel the same way. And if you want to date first, let’s date first. But I really hate my apartment, and I want a dog. And I want you. I want to wake up with you every morning and go to bed with you at night. So why the fuck wait?”
Noah’s breath catches. “Connor…”
