Page 240 of Cloudy With a Chance of Bad Decisions

This could not possibly be that easy.

“That’s it?” I couldn’t rationalize what was happening. George nodded, a short jerky thing. His hands slipped out of my hair, tangling around my wrists instead. “You’re just…going to…move here?” I blinked. “But what about your job?”

I was clearly out of my mind.

Why the hell was I trying to convince him not to stay?

Shut up, shut up.

“What about yourlife?” My voice cracked again. Again. How fucking embarrassing.

“I quit my job on the drive here,” George replied dryly. My mouth dropped open, and my expression must’ve been ridiculous because it made him smile. “It was a long time coming, Alex,” he confessed. “But I can’t help but…admit…you had a lot to do with it.”

“You love your job.”

“I loved parts of my job,” George corrected. “I didn’t love working with my ex. Didn’t love walking on eggshells everyday. Didn’t love being away from my family. Didn’t love the fact that I was only staying because I was worried I’d disappoint my mom if I left.”

“Oh.”

“You made me realize that there is…so much more to life than staying stagnant.” George sucked in a breath. “You made me realize…I could have fun. I could be myself—and be accepted, fuck. Even celebrated for that. That there are…betteroptions.Youare the better option.”

George was quoting something I’d said as a joke, but obviously he’d taken it to heart.

“I wish we would’ve said all this earlier,” George huffed. “We both were idiots.”

“But we’re not idiots anymore?”

“No,” George laughed. “We’re still idiots.” He shook his head, and his hair flopped onto his forehead. I snorted, because he was right. We were.

“Idiots together,” I agreed.

“Too true.” George’s lips curled into an indulgent smile. It was gorgeous. Private, and soft, and all mine. Then his expression hardened. “We should set some expectations.”

Expectations were good.

I liked expectations.

We really were two peas in a pod.

“I’m not moving in immediately,” George started.

“What—”

“I need my own space while we date. Four months should be long enough, right? Then we can move in together. Your house, obviously. It’s perfect for my needs.” He was planning our life. Planning it as intently as I’d planned Juniper’s wedding. “We can have date nights on Fridays.”

“That’s reasonable.”

“I’ll allow a proposal between month four and six. I like being surprised.”

“You’llallowit, huh?” I chuckled, chest so warm and light I was surprised I didn’t simply explode. “I’ll add it to my schedule.”

“I prefer silver over gold.”

“Gotcha.”

“You’ll need to buy litter boxes for Mr. Pickles.”

“Not a problem.”

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