...
It's all sexy time and candlelight and satin sheets and strawberries from here.
Butter upon bacon, amirite?
There have been a lot of late nights with Josh slipping off certain lacy articles of clothing (mine, not his, but also men can wear lace if they want to) and the two of us writhing around on my bed, his bed, any place really.
There's been some calling of parents to share the news, a bit of discussing potential neighborhoods for us to eventually move into.
A lot more bubble bath and wine time. A lot more of Josh's supple hands slipping up my thighs under aforementioned bubbles.
And so, on the fourth night after his popping the big Q to move in together, I was wholly unsurprised to find us making out on my couch (praying your parents don't come into the basement senior year style).
9:58 PM
I'm wearing black panties under Josh's green hoodie and he's got my legs draped across his lap. My book lies discarded on the coffee table. Josh's top button is undone —his signature just-home-from-the-office move.
We are mid-kiss when Josh draws an extra breath.
"So, my lease is up in September," Josh says abruptly. His words mumble into my lips mid-kiss.
"Oh? A time crunch?" I ask, drawing back. "Is that really why you want us to move in together now?"
"Caught me," he jokes. "But that gives us about a month to pick our new spot."
"So down to business," I nod, suddenly serious.
"I did find two promising spots in that neighborhood you like closer to the water," Josh tells me.
"The one by your office?" I ask.
"The one that's close-ish to my office, and would shave at least 20 minutes off my commute, yes. That one." Josh nods. "But, it's more square footage for the price."
Josh is becoming his studious self, obsessive and orderly, and I half expect he's got a binder lurking behind the couch cushion. Maybe a pie chart.
"Are you going to give a presentation?" I scrunch my nose.
"Only if you want one." Josh jokes.
"Spare me. We'll check them all out," I say. "Promise. And I promise we'll find the abso perf spot."
"Nancy and Charles would love if we went with somewhere downtown. Probably want to share a penthouse," Josh says, rolling his eyes.
"Thank you, next," I laugh.
"I'm open to downtown, though. I'm open to anywhere." Josh shrugs.
"Agreed," I say, pursing my lips. I can picture Josh and I converting to some super posh locale and living the lifestyle Good Charlotte sang about. IYKYK.
"Let's go browse around on Saturday?" He asks, raising his brows. "We can go in the afternoon, before meeting Troy and Beck for dinner."
"Right, dinner with them," I say, remembering. "Wine look-out."
"Exactly," Josh says.
He's convinced his brother and sister-in-law are announcing they're pregnant any day now, so we are checking to see if Beck goes for her usual boujee wine selection.
"Saturday it is. It's a date."
"What is it?" He asks, leaning back from me.
"Nothing –you just look extra sexy when you're talking about moving in with me," I tease.
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