"Where's the U-Haul?" Edward asks the next morning.

He shows up at my place around eight o'clock, carrying a tray of to-go coffee and a white paper bag filled with something that smells like delicious carbohydrates. He's so awake and smirky, and I'm so hungover because last night Angela and I found a shitload of pictures from college, so we got drunk and reminisced.

I yawn, moving aside to let him in. "Actually, we're not gonna get a U-Haul." Because I forgot that we needed to reserve one.

"No?" he asks, handing me coffee.

"We're just gonna shove everything into our cars. Costs less, you know?"

"What about the couch?"

"Maybe we don't need a couch."

"And your mattresses?"

It's bold, but, "Beds are overrated." He gives me a look. "Okay, fine, we have no idea what we're doing. Which is why I was so quick to accept your offer to help, okay?"

"I'm starting to gather that."

"Feel free to back out now. No hard feelings."

He takes a long sip of coffee. "My parents have a truck we can borrow. We'll have to make multiple trips to unload stuff, but it shouldn't be too bad."

"Wouldn't that be… weird?"

He smirks. "Weirder than you giving up your bed and couch? Nah."

I playfully narrow my eyes. "But I don't know your parents."

"That's okay," he laughs.

"You're seriously going above and beyond."

"I'm really not."

"You really are. I literally threw everything from my bathroom, plus the contents of a kitchen drawer into the same box last night. There's nothing separating moisturizers from utensils. Save yourself."

He breathes out a laugh, stepping closer. "No way. I'm seeing this through."

"Well, I appreciate it. So… what's the plan?"

"I'll go get the truck. You wake up Angela and withhold coffee and food from her until she actually helps. I shouldn't be too long."

"Got it."

Edward leaves, and I knock on Angela's door, opening it when she mumbles for me to come in. She's sitting up against her headboard, typing on her laptop.

"Surprised you're awake," I comment, sitting on the edge of her mattress.

"So I just Googled 'am I too old to be goth' and I think I still have a few years to pull it off," she says, staring intently at the screen.

"Angela."

"What?"

"Put the laptop away. Edward brought coffee and bagels, and I was instructed to withhold it all from you until you finish packing."

"I still can't believe he's helping. Like, willingly."

"I know," I agree. "He's also letting us borrow his parents' truck so we don't have to pay for a U-Haul."

"So we get to keep the couch?"

"And our beds."

"He's a saint! A goddamn saint."

We manage to be productive until Edward returns half an hour later, with a rusty red truck and a guy who looks faintly familiar. He's introduced to us as Ben, and Angela immediately places him as the guy who was grilling burgers at Jess's party.

After we devise somewhat of a plan, Edward and Ben start piling furniture into the truck as Ange and I make an attempt to finish packing.

As the day goes on, I find myself being drawn to Edward more and more. Because he's so fucking nice and efficient and works up a sweat with a smile on his face, and he likes this. This is his thing. He likes to help people. And he likes me. He playfully bumps into me when we're passing each other, and he sneaks up on me and gently squeezes my shoulder, and he shows me how to properly pack a box without making me feel stupid.

Every little thing he does somehow goes from attractive to downright sexy. Like the sounds he makes when he's loading the truck. The way his hair falls into his face, sticking to his forehead. How his forearms flex when he lifts furniture. It's indecent. It's too much.

"You're kind of killing me," I tell him at one point, when he pulls up his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.

"How so?" he asks, but he's grinning because he knows. He sits on the steps of my porch to take a break, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

I shake my head, pretending I'm mad. "No. Don't even. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He tips his head back, keeping his gaze on me. I'm kind of close, so he reaches out, fingers grazing the side of my leg.

"Come here," he murmurs, pulling my hand so I'm standing between his legs.

He's still sitting, so he stares up at me, head near my stomach as he moves his hands to my hips. He gives me a small, playful shake and a matching smile. My chest feels funny, tight, and I breathe out before running my fingers through his sweaty hair. And it's weird, being like this, but it's good.

"I have something to tell you," he says quietly. I push the hair away from his face, staring down at him.

"Yeah?"

"We're almost finished moving you."

I grab his shoulders in excitement. "That's the best news I've ever heard."

"Maybe one or two more trips to the new place, and then yeah. Done."

"I really can't express how fucking appreciative I am for your help." I gently touch his beard, playing with the hair covering his chin. "Do you realize how long I've wanted to do this?"

He breathes out a laugh, and I feel the warm air on my fingers. "What, touch my beard?" I nod. "How long?" he asks, voice gravelly.

"I don't know. Long enough."

The front door suddenly opens and Angela yells for us to get a room before shutting it again.

I roll my eyes and Edward laughs, patting my thighs. I take a small step back so he can stand.

"What are you doing after this?" he asks.

"Not much. I have to work in the morning, so I'll probably take it easy." I groan, realizing that even though we're almost done moving, everything is still going to be in boxes.

"You wanna come to my place? I can make you dinner."

I playfully slap his stomach, giving him a look. "Stop. You are not going to help me move and then make me dinner. That's… absurd."

"Okay. We'll order pizza. If you want to hang out."

"I do," I say softly. "But I'm buying. Deal?"

His lips press into a smile. "Deal."