I thought it would take a lot longer than four months.
Su-Lin looks up at me with this expectant grin on her face, and I can’t help mirroring it back. I knew she was into me when we first met. Partly because she called me “Kung Pao Pancakes”—which is apparently my spirit dish at Fong’s All-American, this awesome restaurant where she used to work—and said my hair was hot, and partly because she called our lunch business meeting a date and then looked pretty crushed when I told her I couldn’t date anyone. It took me a good hour or two of that date to get the words out, crushed as I was myself about not being capable of giving this sexy, vivacious, amazing girl a chance.
The idea that she still wants me, that she’s willing to put up with my nonsense and the stupid games I have to play with my own head just to be a functional human being . . . I’d been so sure that once she realized what a mess I am, she’d feel like she dodged a bullet.
But here she is.
I run my hand along her jaw and bend down to kiss her. My eyes close as our lips meet.
Even after the hundreds of times I’ve dreamt this moment, I’m not prepared for the rush. My head feels light and my body heavy and we both lean into it instinctively.The kiss deepens almost instantly. Our mouths are open and our hands roaming and it feels even better than I always imagined.
I push her back against the door, and we’re kissing frantically, like we need to make up for lost time. Her arms snake around my waist and up underneath the back of my suitcoat, which I shrug off.
Oh, shit.
Su-Lin’s hands run up my arms, and then her eyes pop open and she stares at my shirt—which happens to have no sleeves, like a combination white collared shirt and wife-beater.
“Whaaaaaat,” she says.
I grin sheepishly. “So there’s a story.”
She grabs me by my collar and pulls me closer, speaking against my lips. “I clearly need to hear this story, but I also want to devour you.”
Ohgod. Parts of my body are standing fully at attention and poking against her, and she has to notice. For a split second, I’m worried she’s going to be disgusted. With as much as we flirt, I’ve been pretty careful these last months to keep her from knowing exactly how much I want her.
But instead of pulling away, she settles closer into my arms, her fingers stroking the back of my neck. “Story first,” she says, grinning wickedly.
I groan and scoop her up and deposit her on the polished marble counter, narrowly missing the pile of Mei-Ling’s cosmetics. Mei-Ling has the same lip-liner that Candace used to leave on the edge of the sink that I was constantly knocking off when I went to brush my teeth—and Ireallydo not want to be thinking about my ex right now.
But this story unfortunately involves her.
“I’m waiting,” Su-Lin says, but her voice has a breathless quality to it, and I’m pretty sure what she’s waiting for is to finish teasing me before she pounces on me. She wraps her legs around me and puts on her innocent face again.
I stumble over my words a bit before bending down and kissing her neck.
Am I really going to tell her this story while shamelessly making out with her?
Apparently I am. “I got married in this suit,” I say against her skin. She tenses slightly, and I straighten to look her in the eyes. “Are you sure you want to hear this? Rightnow?”
She grins at me. Not upset that I’ve brought up my marriage. Noted. “If it explains why you’re wearing this shirt with a suit—or atall—then I definitely do.”
“So the night before the wedding, John and Justin threw me a bachelor party.”
Su-Lin’s eyes narrow, like they always do when I mention those guys. I think she might hate John more than I do for sleeping with my ex throughout the entire time she and I were together.Though for some reason I’ve always been madder at Justin for knowing about it the whole time and never telling me. He could have saved me a lot of pain . . . except I’m not confident I would have been self-respecting enough to leave her even then.
“And Candace made them promise no strippers, which was fine by me, but they decided to ignore her.”
“Nice,” Su-Lin says sarcastically, though I can tell she’s torn between thinking they were dicks for breaking their promise and resenting Candace enough to not want her to get her way.
“But the joke was on them,” I continue, “because they accidentally ordered male strippers. So these guys bust in and start dancing and taking off their clothes—” Su-Lin snickers “—and Justin is freaking out, while John is trying to play it off like they meant it as a joke. Like I wouldn’t notice that the only reason they wanted strippers was because they wanted a lap dance.”
“Did they get one?”
I roll my eyes. “No. But the strippers did get down to their banana hammocks, and one of them left his shirt behind.”
Her eyes light up. “No.”
“Yes. And then Justin got so drunk he vomited beer and potato chips all over the shirt I was supposed to wear the next day—”
