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Just like the other times we’ve entered a space together, she heads straight for the windows. Curiosity seems to be something she carries with her, as if the city she grew up in is still shiny and new. I ask, “What do you think?”

“About?” Her gaze remains trained outside.

“I’ve been offered an opportunity.” I throw that out there much more rushed than I planned. Clamping my mouth shut, I wait to watch her reaction, to read her thoughts and mood regarding the news. But when she remains silent for an uncomfortable few seconds, I start filling the empty space. “Here in the city . . . I was thinking about taking it.”

Turning around, Natalie stares at me as if the words she heard weren’t clear. “I don’t understand.”

“I know we just started dating, but I wouldn’t be opposed to making it a full-time gig. What do you think?”

She finally comes to me, holding onto my belt loops. “I think a couple of weeks is too long to go without seeing you. But?—”

“But?” It was music to my ears until that but . . .

“Are you giving up your life in California for me or a job? Maybe both?” She nods. “I’m happy to have you here, thrilled in fact, but I worry because I’m not sure it’s worth trading your comfort zone for mine. What if you’re not happy once you move here? Then I’ll be the one you blame.”

“Since we’re tossing out what-ifs, what if I move and we date with intention, like we have some place to go together? A future we’re working toward?”

Backing away, she leans against an exposed brick wall and then glances out the window momentarily. “It’s a good thought, but I’m scared.”

“Of?”

Without much light to reflect in them, her eyes are darker than usual, or maybe it’s the worry taking over. “I worry you won’t like me like you do now.”

I didn’t see that one coming. Not sure how to answer, so I use the time to memorize this new emotion that has no business settling into her posture—the dip of her shoulders at the edge, the expression caught between the happiness she wants to feel and the reality of the hurt she’s experienced. “That won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because the more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you. You keep me on my toes and guessing. Life with you is an adventure, but I’d like to explore the downtime with you as well.” Spying the picnic I set up earlier on the balcony and knowing how hungry she is, I realize it’s a lot to spring on her. Maybe she’s right, and we should talk about this after eating. I guess I was hoping for?—

I’m kissed under the chin and along my jaw. Arms wrap around me, and she whispers, “I want you here, Nick. Selfishly, I want you here all the time, but it makes me feel bad for wanting you to give up your life for mine.”

“This isn’t a trade or an either-or situation. This is two adults figuring out how to be together. I want to find out what it’s like to lie in bed with you when one of us doesn’t have to leave early in the morning. What would it be like to come home from work and sit on the couch and watch bad reality TV or have sports on while you’re doing your own thing somewhere in the apartment? You’d help me figure out the best neighborhood takeout and teach me how you like to fold your towels.”

“Four folds total. No lazy threefold business for me.”

“See? I was taught the same,” I say as if this is a unique thing just for us. It feels like it is, and I like that we have something else in common to think about, even if it’s mundane. This kind of stuff never crossed my mind before her, and now I want to think about it. I want to learn about her.

She gives me a good squeeze and then leans back to look up at me. “What are you really asking me?”

“I’m willing to consider moving here if you think it’s a good idea.”

“We’ve had a few phone calls and videos, lots of texts, but Nick, what if . . .”

When she pauses, I ask, “What if?” She turns away from me when I put her on the spot, hoping she takes this leap to reassure me I’m making the right decision. But apparently, I’m competing with the most fascinating city in the world outside. “Talk to me, Natalie.”

Peeking at me, she says, “This apartment is nice, but whose is it?”

“I haven’t bought it, but my family is thinking about it.”

“Can I be honest with you?”

“I hope you’ll always be honest with me.”

Her bottom lip is momentarily dragged under her teeth in worry. “Sometimes I worry that I won’t be what someone like you needs.”

“When you saysomeone like me, what do you mean exactly?”

Concern of scaring me away is drawn into her eyes. “I’ve dated a lot of bad boys in my time?—”