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.”