Nightlife ✓

33 | lunch

HIS LIPS WERE SOFT, WARM.

They pillowed against mine the way I'd always imagined it would. Quen held himself still for a long moment, so I gingerly retreated back from him. I'd probably taken him by surprise. He wasn't ready yet—

Before I got far enough to open my eyes, Quen's hand slid into my hair and pulled me back. I pressed my back against the wall as the doors to the elevator slid shut, taking us who knew where. I was blind and deaf and dead to the outside world.

Quen sealed his mouth over mine in an insistent kiss, closing all possible spaces between us. My hands splayed against his shoulders as I fell into him, held secure by his other hand around my waist. My brain was short-circuiting.

His tight embrace brought me up against his broad chest, and I had to stretch my neck upwards to meet his face. I left a cheeky bite on Quen's lip as we slowly pulled apart. His smile against my smile—that felt like pure bliss.

Boy, was this the best day or what?

"I am so confused," Quen told me. But he was grinning ear to ear. "Happy, but confused."

"Me, too." My voice was a mere shaky whisper being wrapped up in his arms. Noting that the elevator hadn't gone anywhere, I pressed 8. "I have no idea what's going on. But I love it. How are you here?"

"Riley gave me your room number."

"What?" My eyebrows furrowed, recalling that while Viv had taken me home when the tequila got the better of me, Riley had stayed at Topaz. Had Quen, confused and seeking answers, approached his old high school friend? Did Riley say something back? In fact, before my farewell party, I'd never even known she was planning to spend the weekend in Carsonville.

"Is she even celebrating an aunt's birthday?"

"Yes." A beat passed, then Quen sighed bashfully. "Actually, no. I just lied. Sorry."

He looked so embarrassed I had the urge to kiss him again, but instead, I shook my head and smiled. "Don't apologise." Somehow, that Riley was in on the whole thing made it even better. Like she was sending her blessing from afar.

And, let's be honest, I kind of needed all the help I could get. I was so bad at this.

I took Quen's hand once more, his finger sliding home over my knuckles. A giggle slipped out of me. Fuck. Wow.

When Quen and I stepped off the lift and walked through the common room, Jamie perked up at the sight of him. I don't think they ever met officially, considering they had very few mutual friends aside from Riley and Sophie.

"Hey, Jamie," I nodded. Jamie's gaze zeroed in on my hand, clutched in Quen's, and a devilish grin bloomed on his face.

I ignored it for the sake of Quen, who was edging behind me as if he'd rather be somewhere more private. Me, too. I didn't even stop dragging Quen toward my corridor while I obligatorily rattled off an introduction, "This is Quentin. Quen, this is Jamie."

"Sup," Jamie smirked.

"Hey," Quen returned, craning his head to get the words out before I tugged him past the doors.

Trailing behind us, we heard: "Use protection, kids!"

"Go fuck yourself!" I yelled, fighting the rising heat on the back of my neck.

Quen chuckled amusedly, his hand squeezing mine in a quick pulse. My heart pulsed in reciprocity, even as I tried to calm myself. This was too eventful a morning, which, on top of my hangover, had my head spinning.

Once finally in the safe confines of Riley's and my room, I locked the door and leaned back against it. Quen stepped in front of me with a puzzled expression.