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.
Time to explain why I just dragged him into my bedroom. To explain everything.
"I'm so late. I only heard Kylo's message half an hour ago."
"Oh." Realisation dawned on his face. "Did you like it?"
"I loved it." I squeezed his hand, searching his deep brown eyes. "Why did you never tell me in person?"
Quen exhaled slowly. "The day after we agreed to get lunch, Noah told me that he had feelings for you. Not fleeting ones, either. I knew he was really invested in you, more intensely than I had been at the time."
I wanted to disagree. At the time, Noah didn't know me, even as a friend. He still didn't. Scumbag. Maybe he was infatuated with me, but he couldn't say he liked me the way Quen did. The way I liked Quen. I firmly believed you had to know someone before any true feelings could develop.
Where could Noah's feelings have come from, except a picture of mine on Instagram, or one exchange of witty repartee in a club, or a glimpse of me on campus from afar? Noah couldn't even stand on the same ground as Quen, much less than compete with him. I wanted to shake Quen for being stupid enough to defer to his friend, but then it occurred to me that his actions hadn't been about me.
That he said, "I couldn't just ignore that and take you out on a date or confess my feelings to you. I would feel like the worst friend ever," confirmed it.
He was trying to be a considerate friend. That thoughtfulness was one of the things I truly respected about him. He wouldn't have been the same person that I fell for if he didn't look out for his friends before himself.
"So I thought I could do both—respect Noah and express myself—by letting you decide between us."
For so long, I had thought asking Quen to lunch was me putting the ball in his court. If he said yes, we might take things further. If he said no, we would stay as we were. But as soon as I'd given him the opportunity to decide, Quen had returned the opportunity right back.
And I'd never even noticed. Had he been patiently waiting for me to respond, to reciprocate, afraid of ruining the careful balance of our friendship if he spoke up? Had he been in the same boat as me?
"So, giving me Kylo Bear was you sending the ball to my court?" Quen nodded. I questioned incredulously, "What if I had fallen in love with Noah?" Did Quen actually know he might have sent me right into the arms of his best friend?
"You would have been happy."
My throat tightened. "Quen..."
He averted his eyes. "When you started pulling away after that day," Quen said, at length, "I assumed I came on too strong with the recording. I thought you wanted us to stay just friends, and I didn't want to pressure you into explaining that to me. So I took that as your answer."
Had that been his plan? He would make a heartfelt confession and then never prompt me for a decision? He would stay in my life whatever way I wanted of him? The amount of patience and selflessness it took to commit to something like that...
"But I underestimated how much it would hurt." I nodded, almost relieved that Quen had as much self-preservation as the rest of us. "It just felt so hopeless to hold onto those feelings. So I stopped answering your messages and I accepted Joelle's offer and I tried to cut you from my life so that I could finally move on."
I nodded, reaching for his other hand.
He smiled ruefully, "Then you started drifting even more from me after that. All the things I loved about our friendship just disintegrated, and I only saw you in lectures. I thought, did you not even want to be friends anymore? That was where I got the dumb idea that I was a convenience thing to you."
My face instinctively fell at the thought of him moving on. Quen saw the sombre frown on my face and gently raised our intertwined hands to his mouth.
"Clearly, that didn't work," he quipped, softly brushing his lips over my knuckles. A shiver ran down my spine.
I chuckled shamefully. "Well, my radio silence was my attempt at getting over you. I tried everything. Clearly, that didn't work either. I'm still crazy about you."
"You sure?" Quen drawled, though I saw the sliver of genuine insecurity within his humour.
Contracting my arms that held him, I tugged him closer and gazed up at him. He was part of my future. I knew that with every fibre of my being.
"Never been more sure of anything," I murmured. "Except dropping Med school."
"Wait, what?"
"Oh." I blinked, realising our friendship's long hiatus meant Quen had no idea about the changes my life had undergone. "I got promoted to Society editor at Natural Affairs. I quit Topaz. And I am also no longer pursuing a career in medicine for personal reasons."
His jaw dropped. "Since when?"
"Hm... a week?"
Quen recovered as my words sunk in. When he accepted that there was nothing life-threatening behind my sudden about-face in life, he joked, "A month without me and your life falls apart."
"Sure," I rolled my eyes. "Quentin Cheng is the superior life-adhesive brand. Holds everything together."
"Fuck, I've missed your weird humour." My echoing laughter reached right to the bottom of my heart. Quen brushed a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.
Considering the strand was about three fibres thick and not bothering anyone, and that his hand lingered softly on my cheek afterwards, I thought that was his way of reaching out for me. A shiver ran the course of my body despite the warmth in the room, shaking away the guilt I felt for not getting his message earlier. Even though it was a huge misunderstanding, I knew I was partly to blame for putting my peace of mind over our friendship.
Plus, it had only been a matter of time before we either fell together or fell out of touch—and I was so grateful it was the former. Maybe Drunk Kris did have her uses. She was a go-getter, after all.
But so was I, if only I took the leap.
I curled my arms around Quen's neck, revelling in the sensation of his grip on my waist. Then I inched up onto my tiptoes, leaned in and kissed him.
This time, his lips certainly weren't still. He kissed me languidly, with control and patience, like we had all the time in the world. Perhaps that was the truth of the situation; I was so swept up in the time wasted and the mistakes I made that I was missing the bright, brilliant, limitless future in front of me.
The smile remained on my face when he folded me into his arms and laughed joyously. I leaned my chin on his chest and stared up at his dark, magnetic eyes.
Looking at Quen, it was like summertime stared back at me even while the world teetered on the verge of winter. Outside, it was cold and dingy but in this cozy room, with just me and him, the air sang. I could hear it, like a chorus or a crashing wave or a fledgeling's first song. Something coming to life.
Under Quen's warm layers of clothing, I felt the faint thrum of his rapid heartbeat against my skin.
"By the way, you should have gotten drunk way sooner," he said.
"Alcohol is not how I usually solve my problems." I whispered conspiratorially, "So. Does this mean we can finally get that lunch now?"
My stomach—having been deprived of breakfast—gurgled loudly in agreement.
I would have blushed or apologised, had being around Quen not already felt like being around a best friend.
He merely chuckled and nodded, "Of course. My shout."
"I'm feeling 火锅."
Quen dropped a light kiss on my forehead. "火锅 it is."
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A/N:
And they're finally together! (About time, amirite?)
It was my intention with this book to portray a realistic college romance with both main characters deeply insecure and also #broke - which impedes any grand gestures they would make - and a personal writing goal: falling in love without kissing each other. They are so totally into each other's personalities.
However, if you are looking for a steamy (and I mean, the most steamy novel I've written up till this point - and I've written six), messy, chaotic college romance - which, is also pretty realistic, right? - Viv and Jamie's story is where it is at!
Stick around for the last five-ish, and thanks for making it this far!
Aimee x