“No, no, please,” I hurry to say. “You should go. I’m okay, really.” I don’t want him canceling his plans on my behalf, especially when I’m not having any sort of emergency.
“Hold on a sec,” he says into the phone before putting it on mute and focusing on me. “Are you sure? I can stay, and we can get breakfast or something. Whatever you want.”
“That’s super nice of you, but . . .” A series of excuses and tiny lies pile up in my mouth, but I decide to be honest and say, “I need to be alone and process things. Plus, I have to practice soon, and I can’t do that with you here. It’s better if you go.”
He smiles in understanding and unmutes the phone to say, “Actually, I’ll head down. See you guys in a bit.” After hanging up, he clasps one of my hands. “Sure you’re okay?”
“Yes. You should go. You’re already late.”
He leans in and kisses me softly on the lips. It’s the briefest kiss, but shivers ripple over me. “Tomorrow night.”
I nod. “Tomorrow night.”
He squeezes my hand once before he leaves. As I shut the door behind him, I hesitate. Neither of us said good-bye.
But tomorrow we will.
FIFTEEN
Quan
After practice, we decide to hang out in Khai’s backyard and have drinks to celebrate the LVMH news instead of going
out. He’s remodeling and just had a fire pit installed. There’s nice outdoor furniture and blooming whatever-the-fuck trees (the flowers are purple, that’s all I know), and the fire keeps people from getting cold at night. It’s a sweet arrangement.
“What are we celebrating again?” Khai asks as he hands margaritas to me and Michael. He makes the best margaritas. They’re strong, and he lines the rim with salt—my favorite part.
“Good news with LVMH,” I say.
“Have you guys signed anything?” he asks.
I take a sip of my drink, and yeah, it’s really good. “Nah, it’s too early for that.”
“So we’re celebrating a phone call?” he asks with a skeptical frown.
Michael laughs. “Yeah, we’re celebrating a phone call. It was a good one. Cheers.” He holds out his drink, and we all clink our glasses together. As I’m swallowing a mouthful of tequila and lime juice, he adds, “We’re also celebrating Quan’s new girlfriend.”
I choke and alcohol burns down my windpipe, making me wheeze and cough while Khai pounds not so helpfully on my back. When I can finally breathe, I rasp out, “What the fuck? She’s not my girlfriend.”
Khai perks up and looks to Michael for confirmation. “He’s seeing someone?”
Over the rim of his margarita glass, Michael grins like that cat from Alice in Wonderland. “He is.”
“We’re hooking up. That hardly counts as ‘seeing someone,’?” I say, and I don’t like that I’m right.
Michael rolls his eyes. “Did you guys finally get it on last night?”
“No, she was crying and upset about stuff and I’m not an asshole,” I say.
“He heard she was crying and ran over to see her so fast,” Michael says to Khai in a loud fake whisper. “Our man Quan has himself a girlfriend.”
Khai nods tentatively. “If I was only hooking up with someone, I’d stay away from them when they were crying.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I say firmly.
“Do you want her to be?” Michael asks.
I look down into my margarita and shake the glass so the liquid swirls. “Maybe.” I sigh and admit the truth, “Okay, yeah. I like Anna a lot, but she specifically wanted something simple. She’s coming out of a relationship and going through some life stuff. Plus, I’m not sure I’m ready.”