Page 6 of Two’s Better

“Right, right. I can see how that can be hot. And for her, you think that person should be you?”

“I mean, why not, right? We both want the same thing. She’s my literal best friend. Who else?”

“Guy.” Prince scrubbed a hand over his head, his short locs flopping back onto his forehead. “Are you sure about this? Are you even attracted to her? Chemistry is important, you know.”

I tried not to look like I’d just bit into a lemon. “What do you mean? She’s gorgeous.”

“Oh, I know she’s gorgeous. I’m just saying, the last time I asked if something was going on between you two, you nearly cursed me and my entire family.”

I laughed. “That was what? Back in first year? You didn’t know better then. And besides, things change.”

“Uh huh.” Prince picked up his controller. “Okay, o. Whatever you say, boss.”

I picked up my own controller, stubbornly refusing to let Prince’s scepticism taint what was obviously the perfect solution.

I’d made up my mind. Then again, I’d made up my mind the moment the idea had so much as popped into my head four days ago in Ofure’s bed, and had only held off to make sure I had considered all the pros and cons. There was only one singular of each.

Con: I told Ofure my idea, she snorted in amusement and barely-disguised revulsion, I pretended not to be hurt, and it altered the trajectory of our friendship forever. Pro: I told Ofure my idea, she considered it, and then agreed, and it altered the trajectory of our friendship forever.

Okay, so maybe I’d kind of exaggerated both pro and con. Ofure has been my best friend for practically our entire twenty-one years around the sun; she would never snort at me in disgust. We cared about each other, truly cared about each other—the kind of selfless, unconditional love people sang and wrote poems about.

So, con: she smiled kindly and gently turned me down, telling me she wasn’t interested in doing something like that with me—a rejection that wouldn’t alter the trajectory of our friendship because we cared about each other too much for that. And pro: she thought about it, she agreed, we had sex, and again, it wouldn’t alter the trajectory of our friendship because we were just too grown for that.

People had sex for the sake of it all the time, and sometimes, sexual attraction—whether they experienced it or not—didn’t even have to come into play. Heck, people had sex with folks they literally loathed. Why couldn’t I do this for her when there was no one better out there, at least right now? And, if we did have sex, I’d make sure to make it so fucking good—I’d give her an actual pedestal to put her expectations on so she never even considered settling for less ever again.

That last thought squared my shoulders and reaffirmed my decision. I slyly looked up at her. She sat across from me, a small frown on her face as she focused on the work on her laptop. Her braids were pulled up into a ponytail, the bouncy curls framing her head. The bright white lights of the library should have washed away the warmth in her skin, but all it did was make her look ethereal. Her soft, round face was free of makeup, and the deep purple of the Manchester University sweatshirt she had on perfectly complemented the shade of dark pink in her hair, doing wonders for her deep brown skin.

I wanted to smooth away that furrow in her brow with my thumb. If I took a glance underneath the table, she’d probably be bouncing her knee. If I’d been sitting beside her, I’d have given her my hand, let her fiddle with my fingers, or my rings and wristwatch, as she focused on whatever she was doing.

As I looked at her, chest swollen with affection, all I could think of was that she deserved everything. I wanted to give her everything. It was that desire that told me we were going to be fine regardless of what she said or how she reacted when I voiced my idea.

She huffed a sigh, leaning back in her seat, and I forced my gaze back to my laptop. We had a tech submission due this Friday—three days from today—and I was only in the library for the routine since I was pretty much done with my work. Olivia, Taemin, and Katerina, the other three members of our Atelier—yeah, our tutors really wanted our final year to feel like we were working in an actual firm, with semi-real partners and co-workers while they acted as our tough bosses—had all left earlier, having finished with their work as well.

Sometimes, it took Ofure some time to focus, probably a result of her undiagnosed ADHD, though I wasn’t going to say that out loud until I’d given my suspicions more than a cursory online search.

The air between us seemed expectant. I waited patiently.

“Uzi?”

I didn’t look up, knowing she didn’t like the attention at first when she was about to pose a serious question. “Yes, Fure?”

I could imagine her lips ticking up as they always did at the sing-song way I said her nickname—my nickname for her—which made my lips tick up, too.

“Have you ever thought you were just doing things because they were expected of you, and not because it’s actually something you want to do?”

I finally looked up, giving her my full attention as I considered the question. I shook my head, frowning. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” It was clearly not nothing, but I knew she’d bring it up again when she was ready.

She scrubbed a hand over her face. Her pretty acrylics—though when were they not pretty?—were a baby pink sheen that slowly morphed into purple at the almond-shaped tips, little diamond studs glittering at the centre. “This assignment is going to be the death of me.”

My lips quirked with amusement. “You say that about every assignment.”

“And I’ve always been right.”

I laughed. “I don’t agree, but all right.” I moved from where I’d been sitting across from her on the six-seater we’d snagged in the group study section of the library, pulling my laptop and work close. “Let’s put our minds together. After all, two heads ...?”

“... are better than one,” she finished, her lips spreading into a slow smile. “I think I’m practically done,” she said as I drew her laptop closer to me. “I just—you know how I am. Whenever I finish an assignment early, I always feel like I’m missing something.”