Jess had enough.

Goodbye, Miller. Jess texted the words and hit send before stuffing her bunny-earned phone into her small purse. She grabbed hold of her rolling suitcase and headed for the loft door.

It had been weeks, WEEKS since their supposed first date-that-wasn't-a-date-but-ended-up-a-date-with-n o-food-and-sitting-on-a-curb. Jess declared middle-school rules then, and she meant it. No more hanky-panky until Nick Miller fessed up to what he was feeling. But Jess thought it would be hours, maybe even a day before he would come knocking on her door, confessing how he felt and helping unmuddle her scattered thoughts.

Running into her ex-boyfriend Russell did not help matters that night. Stupid, perfect-haired Russell, who came up with that ridiculous notion of having Jess and Nick write down what they wanted from the relationship, then running away with his date before showing them what each wrote. What was up with that? Now she and Nick were stuck in some junior-high limbo, doing the same dance they had done since the night he first grabbed her after the game of True American and gave her the most soul-searing kiss of her life, kissing her as though his very life depended on it.

Now Jess thought her life – or at least her sanity – depended on getting out of that loft. How much more was a girl supposed to take? Jess hauled her small suitcase toward the door. Tonight she had waited until Schmidt was out, Winston had gone to the station, and stupid Nick had gone to work. Stupid, gorgeous, ruffle-haired Nick, who was probably making his stupid, adorable turtle face right now.

She knew her move was cowardly, but that seemed to be the name of the game now. Not talking – about anything that mattered, really. At least she had written long notes to Schmidt and Winston to explain, not that she thought they needed it. The weird tension in the loft had been palpable for days.

She rolled past Schmidt's douchebag jar. I cannot believe Schmidt was right, she thought. We ruined the loft dynamic. Jess stopped, pulled a dollar out of her purse and stuffed it into the teeming jar. Yup, that's what I am. A big, old d-bag for thinking I could count on Nick to fess up to how he felt.

Every night since that first date, Jess had thought about racing across the hall and ending the tension for good. She longed to have Nick hold her, wrap his arms around her, feel his lips on hers again. But she had made a deal with herself – she would NOT make this easy on him. She was always the one who cared too much in a relationship, making life easier for the men she cared about. This time she would be stronger, because….

Because I met Nick, and he made be stronger, she thought. Jess froze in front of the door. How messed up was all of this? She stared at the door, knowing if she left and went to Cece's, it would probably be for good. Her heart ached at the thought of losing not only Nick, but the life she had grown to love. Her shoulders drooped and she let her chin drop to her chest.

It was then Jess noticed an envelope on the floor, looking as though it had been slipped under the door. Her name was scrawled in neat handwriting that looked oddly familiar. Jess picked it up and slowly opened it. She recognized the handwriting as Russell's.

Dear Jessica,

I tried to knock, but no one answered.

(Probably because I was weeping uncontrollably as I was packing, thought Jess.)

I have no way to express my sincere apologies for dashing away from you and Nick that night – or at least trying to dash away, before the whole jaywalking ticket. Hey, $340? What is up with that? Anyway, I feel such remorse …

(Ha! Even in an immaculately written note, I get more emotion from Russell than from years of living with Nick.)

I feel such remorse that I left without letting the two of you see what you wrote. I made the decision for two reasons. One, I thought it would be too much for you. Two, I knew it was too much for me.

(What does that mean?) Jess clenched the note tighter in her hand.

When I saw what Nick wrote, I realized he was right, and what I had let slip away from me. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope that you and Nick are very happy.

My best for you always,

Russell

Jess' hands trembled as she peeking inside the envelope. There were two smaller slips of paper. She pulled out the first and knew what it said. It was her declaration, when Russell asked her what she wanted out a relationship with Nick. Then she stared at the second piece of paper in the envelope. She bit her lip and lifted it out gently, as if it was made of glass that might shatter from the fear that seized her.

She looked down. It was almost too tough to make out Nick's disheveled scrawl. But there they were. The words: I'm not sure what I want from Jess, but I'm pretty sure she is the one.

The one? As in THE one? Jess' breath caught in her throat. He thinks I am the one?

Jess stepped back from the door and crumpled to the ground. Her lip trembled as she read the note again and again until she could not see the words through her tears. Finally, she released all of the weeks of frustration and stubbornness and wept. She barely heard the sound of the loft door opening.

"Hey, Jess. What's all this?" a quiet voice asked. She looked up through teary eyes to see Nick standing over her. Even with her blurred vision, she could see he was a sweaty mess, as though he had just run a marathon. His hair was askew every which way. God, he was heart-breakingly adorable.

"Wh…what happened to you?" Jess stammered.

Nick slumped down beside her on the floor. "Elevator's out. I ran up the steps."

"You RAN up the steps? Nick, you can't even cross the street without getting winded," Jess said. She tried to wipe her mascara-blurred tears away.

"You going somewhere, Jess?" Nick asked, his voice unnaturally quiet and calm. Jess looked at him. For the countless times Jess had looked into Nick's soft, brown eyes, she had seen every emotion – most of them variations of anger or exasperation. She knew every look, except this one. He sat unmoving, staring at her with an expression she could only call…what…fear?

Jess edged the scrap of paper toward Nick. "Did…did you write this?" she asked.

Nick slowly took the paper. His brows scrunched up in question, then realization dawned. His eyes shot to her. "Well, I…I mean you…yeah…but, no…but….Where did you get this?"

Jess shook her head and took a deep breath. "Nick," she said with what felt like the last of her strength. "Did. You. Write. This?"

Nick could not move, suddenly transforming into a statute before her eyes. Jess sighed. She should have known better than to actually ask him. It was too much. His silence cut through her each time. She began to move.

"Yes," he whispered.

"What?" she asked, unsure she had even heard him speak.

Nick placed his hand on her knee. "Yes, I wrote that, and I meant it, Jess."

Jess stopped breathing. "Then why…why didn't you tell me that?"

"Because it's too much, Jess," he said, unable to look at her. "It's just too much, what I feel for you. And if I tell you, you'll go." He glanced at the suitcase. "But I guess you are doing that anyway, huh?"

"Nick," Jess said, knowing her voice was coming out as a plea. She looked at him, this beautiful, slightly broken man. "Do you want to know what I wrote?" she asked.

Nick snapped his eyes to her. He opened his mouth to answer, but then quickly closed it and just nodded. Jess slowly slid the other piece of paper to him.

I want to know him, in every way I possibly can.

He stared at the paper, his breath coming in shuddered gasps. Nick but his lip and looked up at Jess. "I want that, too," he whispered.

In one swift move, Jess launched herself onto Nick's lap and threw her arms around him, crushing the paper between them. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because if I told how I felt, you would run, and I want you near me, any way I can get you," he said, pulling her closer. He nuzzled her hair. "Don't leave me, Jess."

Jess was still for a moment before a smile broke across her lips. The first real smile she'd had in weeks. She lightly traced her fingertips across his cheek. "Oh Nick," she sighed, dropping her forehead to touch his. "All you had to do was ask."

Nick's hand moved slowly to Jess' face. He lifted her chin, and she caught the emotions racing in his expression, somewhere between wonder, relief and reverence. Then he brushed his lips softly across hers. This kiss was unlike any other they'd shared – not sweeping with frustrated passion or clamoring for something forbidden. This kiss was a promise, a promise of tomorrows and unspoken emotion. As he pulled her in even closer, Jess knew. This was enough.