Beautiful Boss (Beautiful #9) - Christina Lauren Page 0,30

to form any sort of opinion on the outcome until I had all the possible information. I’d been looking at the situation with the logical side of my brain, and quite frankly, the logical side of my brain was an insensitive dick. But now, taking Will’s point of view into account, I could see how unfair that had been, and how it was something we needed to do together, as a couple, rather than me telling him what I’d decided.

I’d long suspected that Will would have preferred a school not in California—or anywhere along the West Coast, for that matter—but in usual Will fashion, he was withholding his opinion until I’d had a chance to express mine. Max was right, Will would probably pack up and follow me to Antarctica if I got a job I loved there.

“It was great,” he repeated, voice a little too careful. “Well that’s . . . that’s great then, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I mean, they were super accommodating. They must have done their research, too, because they knew my favorite band was in town. They took me to a concert at the Rose Bowl, Will. Floor seats. Who does that?”

He laughed in that slow, sleepy way of his, and I could imagine him rubbing his hand over his face. “My guess is a school that wants you pretty fucking bad, Plum. Did you have fun?”

“It was amazing,” I said. “Pasadena is really beautiful.”

“It is.”

The campus was beautiful, the houses were beautiful, the weather was beautiful, but just like with Berkeley, I couldn’t imagine my guy in the middle of it all. Will and palm trees just didn’t feel right. I saw him in the shadow of skyscrapers, hailing a cab and maneuvering us both through crowds and traffic while I rambled on about God knows what, oblivious to everything going on around us. He needed little hole-in-the-wall restaurants and adrenaline, a city with history and culture, four seasons, and winters where we could jog through the snow. Where I’d complain about freezing and he’d do something funny to distract me, and we’d see our laughter in the cold air in front of us. And when I thought about it . . . I needed that, too. Pasadena was great, but it wasn’t right for us.

“It was amazing,” I repeated. “But I don’t want us to live here, either.”

“Okay, so that narrows your choices down to—”

“I think I’ve decided,” I told him. “If you’re ready to really have that talk, of course. I know it’s late there. Or early? For a scientist I’m really terrible with the math of time zones.”

There was more rustling of fabric and I could tell that Will was sitting up. I imagined him naked, sheet riding just at his hips, his skin warm with sleep.

I was so homesick I could barely stand it.

“No, no. I’m definitely ready to talk,” he said. “Excited, even.”

“Okay,” I said, and blew out a breath. I could feel my pulse hammering in my chest, and I knew this was a big moment. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait until I get back? So we’re face-to—”

“Hanna,” he said, laughing. “I’m ready to start the rest of my life with you. Talk to me.”

“Right, right. Yes. Like I told you before, I couldn’t see you in Berkeley. And I’m definitely sure I couldn’t see you in Pasadena. Caltech was great, but not for me. Not for us. You okay with that?”

“More than okay, Plum.”

“I know there are a few things we’re still waiting on, but I think I like Harvard. Their program is amazing; the school is top-notch, obviously. It’s a little less money than Princeton, but I think I have some negotiating room there, even though I know New Jersey would definitely be the easiest in terms of living arrangements and the general upheaval of our lives—”

“You know that’s not a factor for me,” he said. “You haven’t spent your entire adult life building a career so you can do what’s easiest.”

“I know, and thank you for getting that. I see many blow jobs in your future for being such an amazing, understanding husband. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He paused. “So . . . Harvard?” he asked, and it was impossible to miss the hopefulness in his voice.

“I think so? They really want me, and I think I’d have the most flexibility there, which . . . is something I really want. Balance. You remember that, don’t you?” I said, smiling into my