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 he was getting 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?”
“To all your happy places. The first stop isn’t reading in the park then a movie, but it is a movie in the park. Then the wine bar around the corner has a late-night tasting. It’s close enough we can stumble home if we need to.”
He gapes at me, the hand with his tea dropping to his side as if it’s too heavy to hold up. “You did all this for me?”
“Yes. I want you to have the happiest day. You deserve it.”
“Bri . . .”
“Yes, yes, I’m amazing. Now let’s go before we have to sit all the way in the back.”
~
Movies in the park were some of my favorite events growing up. Junie, Keisha, and I caught a random pop-up in college and had the best time. Keisha also met Kellen at one. Proof that it’s a perfect place to meet people.
We brought a blanket from the apartment and grabbed some popcorn from a vendor near the entrance.
The park is packed, but we manage to squeeze into a spot big enough for the two of us.
I make small talk with the parties next to us, getting Liem to talk about his work and convincing one group to indulge in some kettle corn.
Liem eyes me with appreciation. Even the smallest of friendly actions seem new to him.
His smile isn’t rare, but I haven’t seen this version in a while.
It’s the one he gives when he’s feeling undeserving of whatever is happening.
It’s the smile he had when I offered to help him get his suitcase back from Natalie.
The smile he gets when I’ve relieved him of a heavy burden he hasn’t admitted to carrying.
Boyz II Men plays from the park speakers in the background while we wait for the sun to set and the movie to start.
I fear I may be enjoying this night as much as Liem.
I pull out my phone, panning across the landscape, catching families sharing picnics and couples dancing together to the song.
A little bit of everyone doing a little bit of everything.
Liem sits quietly with a contented expression. “Are you having fun?” I ask.
He turns to me, and his smile widens. “Yeah. This is really cool.”
I pretend to ignore the warmth appearing in his cheeks. “So, this is something you would do on your own too? Invite friends, but chill if no one shows up.”
“Probably. It’s kind of perfect. Being around people but being alone at the same time.”
An interesting observation. There’s freedom that comes with sharing an experience with strangers you don’t have to answer to. People people-ing. Liem Liem-ing. Showing him this—that the outside world isn’t as scary or lonely as he expects it to be—is worth every penny I spent.
He’ll be okay without me when the blip of Brooklyn bliss is over. If anything, I might have a harder time being without him.
I catch a candid picture of him, the golden-hour lighting flattering his skin and making his hazel eyes look amber. He catches me after I get two, but he looks even more handsome in the third, brow cocked in question, smile leaning into a smirk.
“Are you taking pictures of me?”
“Yes.”
He chuckles. “Why?”
“Because you’re pretty,” I admit nonchalantly.
“If you want a picture of something pretty, it should be you.” He snatches my phone from my hand. “Get up.”
“Okay, bossy. At least get my good side.”
“Every side is your good side,” he murmurs.
I pose, twirling for no reason other than to show off my fabulous dress while hitting my best angles in one go. “Good enough for you?” I tease, joining him again on the blanket and taking my phone back. “Let’s take some together.”
I pull him close, draping his arm over my shoulder and hugging him around his waist, smiling as big as he does. Then I press a kiss to his cheek. You know, for the pictures. No other reason.
When I lean away, I catch his eyes, our faces so close our noses nearly touch. Then, unexpectedly, he kisses me.
It takes a second to register that this is really happening, but it is.
Liem’s lips, plush and warm, linger against mine.
I close my eyes and the rest of my body disappears, except for where I exist beneath his kiss.
Our lips separate with a gentle suck. The sound returns sensation to my body like rippling waves of electricity, but we don’t move away from each other. I don’t want to.
I stare at his lips, wanting them back. There’s a breath; a moment where thoughts don’t have time to collect. Then our lips meet again.
The second kiss is as soft as the first, a gentle suck of my bottom lip, his familiar timidness melting away by the kiss’s end.
The third is deeper, his hand cradling the back of my head, his lips parting mine.
Our tongues only touch for a second, but it’s enough to consume the last of my sense of self.
I want to be part of him, to live in this moment, this kiss, for hours.
I hum my enjoyment against his lips, and he pulls away suddenly.
An expression barely shy of shock paints his face. “Sorry. I don’t know what . . .” He drops his hand from me. A chill crosses my skin like a breeze.
“It’s fine, babe,” I tell him. “Don’t worry about it.” Because I’m not. I’m more worried it will never happen again.
The music fades, and the opening bars of the movie’s score begins.
Everyone settles into their places on blankets and chairs, and like Liem said, I feel connected with them all, on display as much as the people on the screen, yet alone with Liem, spinning in the uncertainty of what just happened between us.
That kiss meant something. It wasn’t a closed-mouth peck like friends who may or may not being doing too much in the club one night and figure why not? Liem kissed me. And I fear it may have been the best kiss of my life.
We sit shoulder to shoulder, our arms crisscrossed when we lean back onto our hands. He hasn’t said anything since his apology, pretending he’s consumed by the movie and hasn’t been glancing over to check on me every minute.
“Stop it,” I whisper to him. “Friends kiss sometimes, it’s normal.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. Relax. Enjoy the movie.” I bump my shoulder against his arm. Finally, his smile returns.
He looks back to the screen, but I can’t stop looking at him. Friends do kiss sometimes. But not like that.