“Really?” He pauses, mid-foil removal. “It’s mine, too.”
My heartbeat picks up, pleased by this tiny discovery, as if it’s more evidence for the case of us. But I don’t speak of it. I only release a sigh. “Lavender crème brûlée. Ginger crème brûlée. Espresso crème brûlée.”
“I had rosemary once. Unbelievable.”
I grip his comforter with both hands. “No.”
Josh consumes his dessert in two bites. He tosses the empty cup into his trash can and hops once. “I’ll take you there right now. Come on, come on!”
I laugh. “Sorry. Sunday night is pizza night.”
He deflates. “Damn.”
“Join us.”
Josh plops down beside me on the bed. “That’s…actually kinda weird. My friends and I used to have pizza on Sunday nights, too.”
“I know. I used to see you guys at our restaurant.”
“Seriously? Pizza Pellino?”
I nod. It wasn’t a coincidence.
“Hey.” Josh grows uneasy. “About Kurt. About your bed.” He bounces twice to demonstrate where he found the subject change.
“Yeah. He sleeps in it.”
I’ve correctly identified his question and given him the wrong answer. He tries to act as if it doesn’t matter, but his expression resembles what mine must have looked like when I realized I was surrounded by the likeness of his ex-girlfriend. “We’ve slept in the same beds our entire lives,” I say. “There’s nothing sexual about it. I promise.”
“That’s not how I’d feel lying beside you.” But before I can enjoy this thrilling and perfect response, an even more alarming question has popped into his head. “Have you ever woken up and seen…you know. In the morning?”
“If you expect me to answer that, you have to say it.”
“I am not saying it.”
I pause. “Fine. Yes.”
Josh baulks.
“But it’s not like it’s, ugh, aimed at me or anything. And it’s not like we sleep naked. I mean, we’ve been friends for ever, so, yeah, we’ve seen stuff, but—”
“Has he seen you naked?” he blurts. And then he notices my expression and instantly regrets it. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”
I’m opening my mouth to agree when I’m struck by a startling new truth. The situation has changed. Or maybe it’s about to change. “No,” I say. “It is your business. If you want it to be.”
“I do.”
I swallow. “Me, too.”
His brow lifts.
“Does this…does this mean you want to be my boyfriend?” My question sounds both immature and momentous. But Josh doesn’t flinch.
“Yes,” he says. “I want.”
Chapter thirteen
Josh is my boyfriend.