I let out a light laugh to acknowledge her joke, though I’m hanging on her underlying message. “Does that mean you’ll stay?”
Her eyes linger on mine for a moment. “If you want me to.”
The smile pulls on my cheeks before I can stop it. “Of course I do.”
“Thanks, Hoodie.” She pulls me into a hug. I welcome it and the deep inhale of her marshmallow scent that comes with it. “Speaking of hoodies, do you want to put some pants on before I join you under the covers?”
“Yeah, my bad.” I turn to get up and realize my predicament. “Don’t look at my ass.”
“But I want to.” She pouts. Joking again. Probably.
“Bri.”
She grumbles and rolls over. “You’re no fun.”
Knowing Bri will live with me for longer fills me with warmth. Her sun will stay in my sky. Maybe I don’t have privacy anymore, but I like it.
I like Bri.
A lot.
Fourteen
Bri
Time passes like the seasons when I’m with Liem. I barely noticed weeks had gone by until I was doubled over in pain on the couch during our trash TV time, Liem massaging my lower back, his chin resting on my shoulder while talking shit about the contestants who think they’re in love with the misogynistic dude-bro they met eight days ago. The most passive of his actions heal a part of me I never knew was damaged.
Now, a week later, I still have nothing organized for my return to California, and Liem keeps commenting that he isn’t making progress with his big client. It must bring him a lot of stress or pressure from his boss. Every time I bring it up, his explanation is full of heavy sighs and grumbling over capitalism, and ends with, “Let’s talk about something else.” We’re both at a standstill, and he doesn’t seem excited to go home either. With five days left in the month, I know he’s going to ask me to stay again, and I know what I’m going to say.
After verifying Liem had a free evening, I got tickets and made reservations. My bank account will take a hit, but I’ll make up for it over the next week. Or month. Either way, I’ll get him to make friends if it’s the last thing I do with him.
On the way home from my walk, I stopped by the shop to get his first gift then headed back to the apartment. Drowning in work again, he hasn’t come up for air in hours. I’ve been creeping outside his door every few minutes to tell when his last meeting ended. It’s been over for at least five minutes and he hasn’t come out yet. If we wait much longer, we’ll be late. I tuck the first part of his surprise behind my back and let myself in.
“Hoodie?”
He jumps at my voice, snapping his laptop shut. “H-hey,” he says in a harried tone, as if I caught him watching porn. If hewasgetting in a little afternoon delight with himself, who am I,
Ms. Lover O’Vibrators, to judge?
“Are you done for the day?”
“I am.”
“Good. Because I did something.”
Standing, he comes to me. “What did you do?”
“I got you this.” I hold out the boba tea for him.
His face lights up when he sees it. “Thank you!”
Most of the ice may have melted on the walk back, but I’m certain it’s the right kind. “Hokkaido, full sugar.”
“You remembered.”
“You’ll have to drink it while we walk. Hope that’s cool.”
“Where are we going?”
