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Chapter Text

——

The day she finds Nick on the floor under the sink, tool bag by his side, Jess decides it’s ok to start seducing him.

There’s a two fold reason for this. 

One: he’s actually doing something productive. Which means he’s probably done with what Schmidt dubbed his ‘Responsibility Detox’ following their return from Chicago. 

Said detox basically involved Nick doing even less than usual around the apartment and not opening the curtains in his bedroom for a while. None of them had said anything to him about this, they’d just picked up the slack like friends do and waited for the day when his tool box made a comeback. 

Which apparently is today. 

The second reason is this: she doesn’t think she can wait any longer. She’s not proud of it, but it’s not fair when he’s doing things like lying stretched out on the kitchen floor, the hem of his t-shirt riding up to reveal a strip of skin above his belt as he reaches up to work on the sink. She’s only human for God’s sake. 

And thanks to reason one, any sex would now definitely just be sex and not I’m-sorry-your-Dad-died-sex so actually, there’s no need to wait anyway.

So basically, seduction is a go. 

The only slight problem with this plan is the fact that Seduction 101 is a life lesson Jessica Day never did manage to learn.

Chapter Text

—-

The thing is, Jess knows she’s not exactly good at this stuff. 

The starfish lingerie is long gone (good riddance) and something tells her that ‘light choking’ is still out. 

She’s tried the naked under the trench-coat thing once already and it did not end well. And as much as she knows Nick is a sucker for that particular garment, there’s absolutely no way she’s revisiting any part of the Spencer era. That idiot belongs in the past, along with her ruffle scarf phase and her kitten heel collection. 

Besides, she needs to start small because this guy is her roommate and she can’t exactly march into his bedroom and ask if he’s ever going to try and have sex with her again, because y’know, awkward.

So she sticks to what she knows. And what she knows is this: the first time Nick ever kissed her, she was wearing a short fluffy robe and very little else. Aforementioned robe was then used as an (admittedly feeble) excuse for why he’d kissed her in the first place.

So when she calls him into her room the night he fixes the sink, you can pretty much guess what she’s wearing.

“The latch is stuck again,” she tells him as he enters, gesturing to her window. “I can’t get it to close properly.”

And then, because she means business, she turns around and banks on the short robe giving him a pretty good view of her legs as she reaches up for the latch.

“See?” she calls, turning her head away from the window.

When she turns to him and his eyes snap back up from her legs to her face, she thinks, bingo. 

“Let me get that,” he offers, picking his way around the bed towards her. She’s definitely not imagining the slightly nervous hitch in his voice.

“Could you?” she says sweetly, stepping aside as he nears the window. 

He reaches up one arm and yanks the latch closed in one swift motion. 

“There,” he says, stepping back and turning towards her. “That was really easy. How feeble are you, Jess?”

“I’m surprisingly strong for my size!” she insists, unable to resist rising to his bait. She punches him in the arm, to prove her point.

Nick exaggerates a wince, rubbing his arm like she’s actually hurt him. “Point taken.”

She huffs in frustration because she knows she’s going to lose this argument. It’s not like she can tell him that there was nothing wrong with the window in the first place. And besides, she is strong. 

“You want me to close your curtains too?” he offers, reaching for the thin cotton to his left and pulling. “These look pretty heavy.”

“Shut up, Nick.” She yanks the other curtain from her side.

They come face to face as their respective sides meet in the middle of her window. He’s got this barely concealed smug smile playing around his lips that she just wants to kiss right off his face and wow, that thought came from nowhere. 

He teeters ever so slightly forwards and just like that, she knows his thoughts have taken a similar turn.

His eyes drop to her lips. 

Her breath hitches. 

He drops his hand from the curtain and for one terrifying second she’s absolutely sure it’s going to land on her waist. 

And then, nothing.

His hand keeps going, coming up to rub the back of his own neck awkwardly. “I should go,” he says quickly, all but bolting for the door.

She waits until the door to his room closes before she lets out an audible sigh that blows her fringe back off her face.

A little later when Jess lies down to sleep, there’s a chink of light streaming through a gap in her curtains and landing right on her pillow.

“Stupid Nick Miller,” she grumbles, dragging herself out of bed to close the curtains properly. “Can’t take a hint. Can’t even close a pair of curtains properly.”

She falls back into bed, gathers the comforter around her and moves onto Plan B, whatever the hell that’s going to be.

——

Chapter Text

——

It turns out that there is no Plan B. The robe idea was pretty much all Jess had. 

Ordinarily, she’d ask Cece’s advice on this sort of thing but that’s out of the question right now. Cece would probably point out that she’s being a bit crazy. Then she’d ask all sorts of questions like, “why don’t you just talk to him?” and, “is it because you’re afraid?” and damn it, the imaginary Cece in her head is way too perceptive. She can’t risk bringing the real Cece in on this. She’s usually even worse.

So Jess is on her own. Which means she dances around him (mostly metaphorically, sometimes literally) and neither of them mentions that time when they were definitely about to have sex on the table. 

She’s all but forgotten about the whole art of seduction thing, really. Which is why she doesn’t think about it when Nick calls her into his room one night not long after what she’s taken to calling the ‘curtains incident’ in her head. 

The fluffy robe idea didn’t really pan out, so that’s over. It’s back to just her usual pyjamas, and tonight’s are a particularly snazzy shade of blue if she says so herself (and she usually does because, well, no-one else does).

“Oh thank God you’re here.” Nick motions for her to come in, before spinning back round on his desk chair to face his laptop. “I cannot make ‘track changes’ turn off,” he explains, through gritted teeth.

Jess rolls her eyes as she heads into the room. “Seriously?”

“It’s just all red lines and speech bubbles that keep telling me I took a comma out.” He hits a few keys in frustration. “Which I already know,” he continues grumpily, “because I was the one who took the damn comma out!” He shoves the laptop away from him a little, like a kid with a broken toy. 

“Let me have a look,” Jess says, smiling in spite of herself at how worked up he can get at something so small. She realises with a jolt that somewhere along the line his incessant complaining went from annoying to endearing, without her even noticing.

Nick slaps his hands down on the desk either side of the keyboard and makes a frustrated noise, somewhere between a huff and an actual growl. She definitely does not find that sexy. Nope. Not even a little bit. The fluttering in her stomach is obviously only hunger, even though she’s just eaten.

He doesn’t move from the chair so, in a move she probably couldn’t have made if she’d actually planned it, Jess leans down and slings her arm around him from behind, reaching for the laptop.

“Here,” she says, taking control of the trackpad with one arm. 

She doesn’t really register what she’s done until she rests her other hand on his shoulder for balance and realises he’s gone completely still beneath her.

That’s when she realises she might just be on to something, without meaning to be. She bites back a smile and hopes he can’t see it reflected in his screen.

All in all, she’s pretty pleased with herself. 

Until it occurs to her just how close she is to him, how if she turned her head just a little bit to the side she could easily press her lips against his throat.

And wow, ok, that’s distracting.

Somehow Jess manages to focus on the screen, restoring his word document to it’s normal state with a few clicks.

Things between them are not restored so easily.

It doesn’t help that he smells so good, or that the faded tshirt beneath her palm is so soft that she can’t quite help running her thumb back and forth across his shoulder. It really, really doesn’t help that all she can think about is resting her chin on his shoulder and what he would do if she did. 

She glances at the screen to try and catch a reflection of his face, all the time willing him to turn, turn, turn his head and just kiss her. 

He doesn’t. 

She takes a breath and thinks screw seduction, maybe she’ll be the one to turn.

Then the words come into focus in front of her and she sees enough to recognise one of his zombie stories. And that’s all it takes to stop her. Because this is Nick. Across the hall, roommate Nick.

All the reasons why she’s too scared to make the first move come rushing back until inside her head she is basically the girl in his story currently screaming her head off. 

Jess spends the rest of the night wondering if she imagined the sigh she heard when she lifted her hand from his shoulder and stepped away.

——

Chapter Text

—-

Since getting Cece’s help is out of the question and the idea of straight up asking him if he’s decided he doesn’t want her anymore makes her feel like she can’t breathe, Jess does the only thing a self respecting girl of her generation can do. 

She googles it.

It’s an interesting half hour, if nothing else. Cosmo, Glamour and some other, slightly shadier sites are all queuing up to offer their tips. She clicks away from the weirdest, boycotting any sites that call something a suggestion when it sounds more like a trick. She’s just after some way of reminding him that hey, a few weeks ago he was yelling for her to take her clothes off and he’s not actually mentioned it since.

The least manipulative option wins her vote in the end. All the sites that appear to be written by people who aren't subject to restraining orders seem to share variations on the theme that, ‘men love to feel needed’. And actually she does need him to fix the drawer in her desk that’s dropping on one side, so she figures that qualifies.

It’s a win-win. 

Ok, so she’s not exactly clear how DIY is going to make him want to kiss her again, but at this point she will literally try anything. Except talking to him. That’s still an absolute last resort as far as she’s concerned. The Cece in her head is giving her a really hard time about that.

“Beer and fixing stuff?” Nick takes her up on her request by reaching for the offered bottle in her hand. “Livin’ the dream, Jess!”

She follows him into her room, shows him the drawer that’s not closing properly and settles herself cross legged on the bed to watch him work.

Nick kneels down in front of her desk, screwdriver in hand. 

“The runner has come loose,” he explains after a minute, peering into the space where he’s removed the drawer. “When you shut it, it’s coming off the little track, that’s why it’s falling down on one side.”

“Can you fix that?”

Nick turns around to give her a disgusted look. “Of course I can fix it, Jessica. What do you take me for? Some kind of amateur?” He sets to work, adding in a mutter, “Don’t answer that last part.”

Jess laughs.

As Nick works on the drawer, grumbling away to himself about shoddy workmanship from chain retailers, Jess realises she literally can’t think of a thing to talk to him about. 

All the small talk in the world has completely gone out of her head. It’s just silence. Weird, awkward silence that means she’s basically just watching his ass as he leans into the desk to tighten the runner. It’s not that she’s against the view, it’s just not exactly what she had in mind. 

She crosses her arms, sparing a glare for her laptop. Stupid internet, giving her crappy advice. 

And stupid Nick Miller, kissing her and changing everything. Before the kiss there was literally no thought too pointless to share with him and damn it, she misses that. She can’t be that way with him now, can’t say the first thing that pops into her head because it’s usually some variation of, ‘kiss me, you idiot.’ 

Jess is that wrapped up in contemplation she doesn’t even register that Nick has fixed the drawer until he turns around and catches her staring at him.

“You checkin’ me out, Jess?” he asks. There’s a joke in his tone but the way he’s looking at her is not funny at all.

Well, well, well, she thinks to herself, biting back a smile, maybe the internet wasn’t so wrong after all. 

The safe response is denial, the brave response a yes. The whole truth would be that she’s recently started to find DIY kind of hot, at least where he’s involved.  There was just something about the way he shoved his tools off the table that night, the night they don’t talk about.

Since she’s not about to say that out loud, she settles for an enigmatic, “Maybe.”

The internet, as it turns out, does not know everything. Not when it comes to Nick Miller.

“Well if I’ve known that, I’d have worn my good jeans,” he says, slapping the back pocket of the old pair he’s wearing. 

He laughs as he walks out the room, like it’s ridiculous that she would be checking him out at all. 

The words to call him back stick in her throat. 

When he’s gone, Jess aggressively deletes her internet history in the hopes that it might somehow delete the whole past half hour from existence too.

—-

Chapter Text

—-

Even though she decided not to ask for Cece’s input, Jess ends up getting it.

It happens like this: 

Jess and Cece are hanging out, catching up. Jess is sitting with her legs up on the sofa, her ankles daintily crossed. 

It’s all totally normal, except that this posture only serves to make it more noticeable that she’s wearing tiny shorts, no tights. And while they might live in LA, it’s also only March.

Cece doesn’t comment on this particular fashion choice. At least not until after Nick comes out of his room and stops in his tracks at the sight of Jess. He stammers his way out the door to work, eyes bugging out so far they’re practically on stilts.

“You’re so transparent,” Cece says, the minute the front door shuts behind him.

Then she just sort of looks at Jess, judging but in this weirdly sympathetic way that only Cece can pull off, and then Jess is telling her everything. Even the internet part, which she admits is definitely her low point.

“I think you’re just scared,” is Cece’s conclusion. 

“I am scared,” Jess agrees, “scared I am going to run out of shorts and short skirts before one of them works! Do you know I’m getting up like an extra half hour earlier because of all the moisturising I’m having to do?”

“Really,” Cece says, deadpan.

Jess ignores her, warming to the rant. “Seriously, how do you constantly keep your legs like this?” She slaps her thigh in annoyance. “It’s exhausting.”

“Jess,” Cece sounds her name like a rebuke.

“And I can’t keep coming out of the bathroom in progressively smaller towels,” Jess carries on regardless. “I’m like, down to a little bigger than a washcloth at this point.”

Out of steam, she finally stops.

To her eternal credit, Cece doesn’t tell Jess outright that she’s acting crazy. Then again, something in her eyes kind of does that for her.

“What? I don’t know what else to do!” Jess crosses her arms, her favourite defensive posture. “He hasn’t said a word about it, Cece. Not a word.”

“Neither have you,” Cece points out patiently. “Maybe he’s afraid you’ve changed your mind? Did you think about that? He’s not exactly Captain Confidence.”

Jess snorts. “That should be a real thing.”

“Jess.”

“Ok fine, I hadn’t considered that, not really. But it’s not like I can just go up to him and say ‘hey do you still want to sleep with me?’”

“And why not?”

“Because! … Because.”

She deflates.

“What if he says no?”

And that’s it. The reason she really, really, didn’t want to talk about this.

Cece sighs, but it’s empathy and not annoyance. “Why would you think that?”

“He said it was a bad idea.” 

Contrary to what her Mom always told her, it does not feel better to put her fears into words. It just makes her feel kind of sick.

“Last time we kissed,” she continues because Cece is watching her like she expects more info. “Afterwards, he said it was a bad idea. What if he meant it?”

“And how does seducing him help you find out if that’s true?” Cece asks, reasonably. “Which, by the way, it is absolutely not.”

“I don’t know,” Jess admits, letting her head fall back onto the sofa. “I just thought that if I could give him a little push in that direction, he might have to stop pretending that nothing has happened. Obviously, it’s not working.”

Cece looks at her for a minute, clearly weighing up what to say. When she sets her mug down on the table, it’s with force, like she’s made up her mind.

“Ok,” she says, spinning in her seat to face Jess. “Ignoring the fact that this is a totally stupid plan for a minute-”

“-thank you.”

-you’re welcome. Ignoring that, it might just work.”

“You really think so?” 

“I do. Judging by the way he just looked out you, I really do. But just think about this for a minute. Wouldn’t it be quicker to just talk to him?”

“Just like that?” Jess’ stomach drops at the very idea of it. 

“Yeah,” Cece carries on, unaware that Jess’ insides are tying themselves in knots. “The best way to seduce a guy? Tell him the truth. So tell Nick that you still want him. And just … see what he says.”

“And if he says no?” Jess asks, even though she knows what Cece will say. She just kind of needs to hear it from her best friend.

“He won’t. Look, that guy might be genuinely a little bit crazy,” Cece speaks quietly, like she’s sharing a secret, “But I think he’s also kind of crazy about you.” 

She gives her a pat on the arm that somehow manages to come off as comforting and not condescending. 

“And if he says no, then he’s a coward and a liar, but at least you’ll know. It’ll save a lot of time, a lot of effort and maybe,” she flicks her eyes down to Jess’ bare legs, “you won’t freeze to death in the mean time.”

Jess swallows. 

Damn it, Cece makes a good point. 

Her legs are kind of cold right now, after all.

—-

Chapter Text

—-

It’s decided. She’s going to talk to him. 

‘Hey, so has the ship sailed on sex?’ 

Nice and breezy. Straightforward.

She nods encouragingly at her reflection in the mirror. Great. Now all she has to do is say that again. To him, this time.

Only problem is he’s nowhere to be found. After his shift at the bar, he doesn’t come home. Before she has time to worry, Schmidt asks her if she thinks Nick seeking closer ties to male friends outside of the loft means he’s not getting enough attention at home. Which is the weird, if helpful, way she remembers he was meeting a friend after work.

He’s out late so she goes to bed where she is absolutely, definitely, not going to stay awake until he comes home. Except that she totally does but you know what, his dad died not so long enough, he’s a little vulnerable, so it’s allowed.

Nick’s pretty good at coming home quietly in the middle of the night, given the hours he works. Tonight however, something tells her that alcohol has dulled his usual skills.

The front door slams. There’s a crash in the bathroom like the contents of a shelf just went flying. And then he’s hovering outside his bedroom door and there’s this weird scrabbling noise that’s definitely not normal.

Jess rolls her eyes, gets out of bed and slips into the hallway to find him pawing at the wrong edge of his door, apparently looking for the handle.

“Oh hey, Jess,” Nick says when he sees her. At least she thinks that’s it, it’s a bit of a slur.

“Whatcha doin?” she whispers, because it’s dark and that seems the appropriate thing to do. 

She actually doesn’t need to whisper, because Winston’s at the radio station and Schmidt sleeps with that godawful natural sounds machine playing in his room. That’s actually pretty lucky, considering how loud Nick’s reply comes out.

“Go back to sleep. I’m fine, right here. Jus’ going in my room.” 

He scrabbles at the hinge again, reaching for a handle that’s not there.

Yep, he’s wasted.

Jess bites back a smile because believe it or not, Very Drunk Nick is actually not that frequent a sight. 

The man can usually hold his liquor, which she kind of likes because it means he’s always dependably there, ready to talk her out of something stupid and get her home safe. 

But when Nick goes, that’s it, he is gone. And judging by his current behaviour, tonight he is out of sight.

She hates that she finds him adorable right now. 

“Try the other side.” She keeps whispering, in the hope that it’ll make him to lower his raised voice.

Nick gets the door open in the end. He goes with it, swinging into the room.

Jess looks into the darkened room for a minute, hands on her hips, considering. Then she hears a muffled thud in the darkness that says he’s walked into something. That’s enough to make her mind up.

She heads into the kitchen, fills two large glasses with water and heads back to his room. When she flicks on the light, she finds him lying face down on top of his sheets in just his t-shirt and boxers.  

Great. Of course now he takes his clothes off, the one time when she absolutely won’t do anything about it.

“Bright,” is all Nick says in greeting, turning over and throwing an arm over his face. 

Getting the hint, Jess sets the drinks down and flicks on a lamp instead. When she turns off the main light, he lowers his arm and the face underneath it is tired and strangely boyish and damn it, she can’t even be annoyed by him right now when he looks like this.

“Good night?” she asks cheekily, although the sarcasm might be beyond him in his current state.

“Not really,” he says, suddenly surprisingly sober. “I think I talked a lot about my Dad.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He pushes himself into a seated position against the wall, slipping his legs under the covers. 

Jess perches carefully on the edge of the bed and hands him one of the glasses.

“I want you to drink all of this,” she instructs him firmly, using one of her most successful Teacher voices.

“It’s a big glass,” Nick notes, taking a sip.

“Well you’re a big boy.”

“You don’t know that … yet.”

He screws up his face, then releases it. She realises he’s trying to wiggle his eyebrows at her and laughs, which just makes him do it again.

“Ok, now drink up.” 

“Yes m’am.” He tries a salute, but it doesn’t quite come off.

She makes a drinking motion with her hand, and stares him down until he drains the glass.

Jess takes the empty glass from him and points out the other. “Now there’s another over there, if you wake up in the night. Ok?”

“Ok.”

Nick shuffles back down a little against his pillows, his eyes never leaving hers. 

“Look at you,” he says, and his voice is softened by something more than tiredness. “Taking care of me.”

Jess doesn’t notice she’s been holding her breath until he reaches out and takes her hand. When his fingers close around hers, she can breathe again.

She feels the corners of her mouth lift up. “I told you I would.”

Nick smiles then, a slow, slightly wonky kind of smile that only alcohol can create. 

“You know, even with my magic water trick I think you’re gonna be sorry in the morning,” she teases.

“It was worth it,” he mumbles, through a yawn. His index finger taps the back of her hand as he adds, “For this.” 

Her hearts contracts painfully at his words. Of course they’re having this conversation now, when he might not know what he’s saying and his eyes can’t stay open. 

“Get some sleep,” she instructs him in a whisper, releasing his hand. She can’t bear to hear anymore, not tonight, not like this.

Tomorrow. She’ll talk to him tomorrow.

Nick presses a kiss against his fingers and reaches out. His fingertips brush against the inside of her wrist as she stands to go. He might be sleepy and drunk and he probably won’t remember it in the morning, but Jess thinks it’s just about the sweetest thing ever.

“Good night,” she calls from the doorway.

He replies with a muffled, barely audible, “Goodnight, Florence Nightingale.”

——-

Chapter Text

——

Jess reaches out from behind the shower curtain and it’s right when her hand closes around her towel that she remembers it’s one of the stupidly small ones.

“Great.”

She pulls it into the shower, annoyed with her past self for leaving it there yesterday. When she decided to give up on the whole seduction thing, she really should have put her old towel back. The last thing she needs is a reminder of how bad she was at it all, anyway.

She’s still angry with herself when she leaves the bathroom, now holding the towel closed at the top because her boobs are apparently keen to escape if she doesn’t. 

Nick’s on his way out of his room as she passes and when their eyes meet, he doesn’t have to say anything. She knows he remembers every word he said last night. 

He looks like he wants to say something, but she’s in a towel that barely covers the essentials, so it’s really not a good time. 

She shoots him a quick smile and dashes past, making for her room. She almost makes it too, except that she’s a teacher and she long ago perfected the art of hearing talking from behind her.

So when he mumbles, “-you trying to kill me,” because he thinks she’s out of earshot, she hears every word.

Huh.

She stops in her tracks and turns, ever so slowly, to stare back at a suddenly sheepish Nick.

“What?”

“What?” he parrots back at her, blinking rapidly and a-ha! now she knows he knows she heard him because blinking like this is his go-to tic when he’s panicking.

For a minute she thinks he’s going to run, but then his jaw kind of sets and he repeats, “I said ‘are you trying to kill me?’”

“Excuse me?” 

Nick glares back at her, because of course he opts to hide behind anger.  

“What is that towel?” he asks, waving his hand at it. “Did you steal that from a child? It’s ridiculous.”

“It’s my normal towel,” she replies, even though she’s still having to hold onto the corner to keep it closed.

“No. No it’s not!” He’s yelling now, which means she’s really getting to him. 

Jess bites the inside of her lip to stop from smiling. It shouldn’t be this much fun, winding him up like this, but it always kind of is.

And it’s weird, because to anyone else having the object of their affections yelling at them in a hallway would not seem like progress. But then again she’s not like anyone else and actually, neither is he.

“You can’t keep doing this!” His arms are going as well now, which means he’s definitely losing it. “Walking around, smelling nice, with your face-”

“-My face?”

“-Yeah! And your hair and your pretty dresses and you let me fix things for you! And then you go and you put me to bed when I’ve had too much to drink? You’re driving me crazy, Jess!”

Somewhere in the middle of his outburst he gets a lot less randomly angry and a lot more, just, intense. He’s moved as well, taken that one extra step into her personal space that makes Jess acutely aware of the fact that she’s naked under this towel. The way his eyes are raking over her tells her that this is not lost on him, either.

He falls quiet and she realises he’s waiting for her to respond. 

But she can’t right now because she’s breathing like she’s just done a marathon, which is unhelpful but doing wonders for her boobs, judging by where his eyes keep falling. 

All she can think is, oh my god, oh my god, a constant loop of oh my god, because it actually worked. The whole time, even the really crazy things that no sane man should find attractive, even the thing she got off the internet, it all worked.

And if it all worked, there’s a pretty good chance it means he’s as into her as she is to him.  

And ok, yeah, that is simultaneously the best and most terrifying thing in the whole wide world.

“I didn’t realise,” is all she can say.

“How could you not?” he asks, huffing in a half hearted way that says he’s not really annoyed anymore. “I’ve been crossing my legs when you’re in the room for weeks!”

“Oh.” 

Oh.

Jess claps a hand to her mouth and realises about twenty seconds too late that it’s the hand that was holding her towel closed.

Judging by how wide Nick’s eyes go, he gets a pretty decent view before his reflexes kick in and he catches it for her.

“That one wasn’t on purpose!” Jess squeaks, blushing right down to the pink nail varnish on her toes.

Nick looks away while she rearranges herself. The muscle jumping in his jaw says it’s taking a lot of effort.

When it’s safe to look at her again, he does so with narrowed eyes, “Wait a second, if that wasn’t on purpose are you saying the other stuff was?” 

Crap. 

She winces, but doesn’t answer.

“Jessica.” Somehow her full name on his lips is the most persuasive sound in the universe. 

“Maybe…”

To her relief, Nick laughs. Like, he really laughs. Holding his side, tears in his eyes, proper laughter. So she joins in, because when she thinks about it, it’s all pretty hilarious.

There’s this moment when they stop laughing where it’s suddenly dead silent between them. 

Then Nick sighs and says, “We’re idiots. You know that, right?”

Jess nods.

He sucks in a breath, lets it out.

“So what do you say I take you out to dinner tonight, ya idiot?”

And what kills her is that after all this, he actually looks nervous, like he thinks she might say no. 

“Ok.”

And with that, she closes the distance between them, reaching up onto her tiptoes to brush her lips against his cheek. 

He turns his head slightly, lining up his mouth with hers and she’s too close to really see his face but she’s sure she can feel him smiling.

“Idiot,” she mumbles against his lips, just before they close over hers at last.

——