The moment I leave the patio for my bedroom, my phone pings. I jerk, startled, and almost drop my phone on the concrete pavers.

Josh: “I am the leaf in the wind—watch how I soar.”

I push the kitchen door open and pause at the fridge to grab a glass of cold water and collect myself. I won’t—I can’t—Firefly flirt with Josh until I get answers. I need answers, concrete and undeniable, real and truthful.

Me: Is that a yes to the Draconids?

Josh: Depends.

Josh: Is that just a research trip?

Josh: Or is that you asking me out?

Me: What if I was?

Josh: “Zoë, we’re runnin’ …”

Wanting clarification about Friday night himself? Quoting Firefly? Curating the most awesome songs about the dark for me? Giving me three dark chocolate bars? Those are words and gifts that unlock my heart: I don’t just want to work with Josh. I want him.

But where can we possibly go with this?

No matter what my hell, no Lee & Li training tells me, I say: Hell, yes, yes, yes.