quality in his words leaves me numb. Not because the unexpected compliment flusters me, but because the seriousness in which he delivered it chills me.
“I couldn’t have been beautiful with all that blood, Ran.” My eyes dart anywhere they can without coming into contact with his. “And I had a black eye for over a week. I was a mess.”
“That wasn’t the first time I saw you.”
“What—?” Shock courses through me, pulling me perfectly upright in my chair.
Ran shakes his head vigorously. “Nope. You’ve used up your three questions. Not my fault you chose them poorly.” He yanks the rice bowl toward him. “And you didn’t leave any dinner for me, Maggie. That wasn’t very nice.”
“I think we’ve already established the fact that I’m not nice.” I suck on my straw again, even though I know there’s nothing left in the cup. “So you thought I was beautiful—blood, bruises and all. Anything else?”
“Yes, Maggie,” he says. “I felt incredibly guilty that everything had to happen the way it did.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Maggie, he has abs for days!” Cora squeals, cross-legged on her bed, bouncing up and down like a child on Christmas morning. “Forget six-packs—hell, even eight-packs. Ran is the literal definition for washboard abs. How many grooves do you think a washboard has? Like twenty? That might not even be enough.”
Her voice trails off and I transfer my focus back to my paper. It’s two in the morning and I think I may have just completed my rough draft. One more read through and I’ll be ready to turn this in to Professor Long tomorrow morning.
“I’m not sure why you wouldn’t get on the back of that bike again. I would ride it all night long if I could.”
I don’t look up from my computer screen when I say, “Are we still just talking about the bike?”
“Maggie, Ran is hot, thoughtful, and he takes you to nice restaurants.” She stretches out her legs and swivels under the covers, yanking the comforter up under her chin until she looks like she’s wrapped like a burrito. “I still don’t understand the SOS signal. I thought we only texted that when we were in dangerous situations.”
“It felt dangerous.” I scan through the first page of the essay, frustrated when I notice it’s riddled with typos, like whoever wrote it was severely lacking in the focus department. “Ran feels dangerous.”
“Ran feels amazing.” Cora rubs the tips of her fingers together as if the memory of his muscular abs is still tangible on them. After she came to rescue me from the restaurant with her vehicle that ran on four wheels, she’d opted to let me drive her car home while she took to the back of Ran’s bike.
“Ran asks too many questions, makes me feel uncomfortable, and he wants to know things about me that aren’t any of his business.”
Cora props herself up on her elbows. “You see, all of those things you just mentioned have you as the common denominator. I don’t think Ran is the problem here, Maggie.” She lets out a deep sigh before she says, “Have you ever thought about talking to someone? You know, like other than me?”
“You’re starting to sound a lot like my mom.”
Cora’s elbows unhinge and she drops onto the mattress with a thud and holds her hands up in the air in surrender. “Then I take that back. Don’t ever compare me to that lying wench again, mm-kay?”
“Then don’t say things that will lead me to draw any comparisons.”
“Deal.” Cora reaches out for the lamp on her desk and clicks the knob twice until the light flickers off. She rolls over to face the wall and calls out over her shoulder, “Give Ran a second chance. He’s worth it.”
His words echo in her tone and make me feel sick to my stomach. Ran hadn’t really done anything wrong. It’s not his fault I didn’t like the questions he asked. He let me have a do-over. Maybe I should return the favor.
I rush through the rest of my editing, my eyes blurred from a groggy stupor that can only be remedied by a good night’s sleep. By the time it’s 3:30 a.m., the weight of my eyelids rivals that of a 50-pound dumbbell, and I’m only seeing through thin slivers.
With my clothes still on, I make the transition from my desk chair to my bed in one clumsy swoop. The sheets still hold the repellent odor of Cora’s latest overnighter, but traces of Ran rise just above