Two days later, I realized one thing: I was fucked.
The semester schedule sat on the coffee table like a dare. Marketing. Finance. Organizational Behavior. A capstone project that involved working with a real company.
I'd fixed engines that were less complicated than this.
I knew code. Systems. Logic. Business was a different beast — one that didn't follow rules I understood. Not yet, anyway.
I tossed the schedule onto the glass coffee table and leaned back into the couch. The city glittered below me, same as always. Cars moved. People lived. And I was stuck here, trying to figure out how to pass a degree I'd never studied for.
I didn't have time to finish that thought. The doorbell pulled me out of my head.
I walked over and opened it.
Lisa.
She was wearing a red and black plaid shirt, long sleeves, the top two buttons undone. Another tattoo — a star, just above her cleavage. Black jeans. Simple. Confident. Like she'd thrown it on knowing exactly what it would do.
"Hey, Vinny," she said.
I stared for half a second too long. "Hey."
She didn't wait for an invitation. Just stepped past me into the penthouse like it was the most normal thing in the world, and dropped onto the couch.
"Ugh. Traffic is annnoying."
She dragged the word out like it had personally offended her.
I closed the door. "You could've texted."
"Where's the fun in that?"
I sat down on the other end of the couch. Kept some distance. She looked at the empty space between us like it was an insult.
Then she stood up, walked over, and straddled me.
Just like that. No hesitation. No warning.
Her hands landed on my shoulders. Her face was close enough that I could see the star tattoo above her cleavage — closer than I'd noticed at the door.
"Better," she said.
I didn't move. Didn't push her off. Didn't pull her closer.
"Lisa."
"Hm?"
"You're sitting on me."
"I'm aware."
She smiled. Not shy. Not apologetic. Just... pleased with herself.
I kept my face straight. Kept my hands on the couch. Tried to ignore the fact that I was getting hard.
"What do you want?"
"Right now?" She tilted her head. "Just to talk."
She didn't look like she was trying to seduce me. That was the thing. Her face was casual, almost bored. Like sitting on someone's lap was just how she said hello.
This was normal. Their normal.
And I somehow had to navigate through it without letting on that I had no idea what the rules were.
"Sure," I said. "What'd you wanna talk about?"
"Us." She said it like it was obvious.
"I get that you have amnesia now and all that, but..." She paused, drumming her fingers lightly on my shoulders. "You've been different." She pouted, whining the last part. "You didn't even try to flirt when I walked in."
"You didn't give me a chance to."
She tilted her head, studying me. "See? That. The old you would've already had his hands on my waist by now."
I didn't move. "The old me is still recovering."
"You sound scared."
"I'm not scared."
"Prove it, then."
"Prove it?"
She nodded. "Place your hands on my waist."
I kept my face still. Kept my hands on the couch.
"Lisa—"
"Or do you need a little help?" Her voice dropped, sultry, as she moved a hand from my shoulder to my hand. She lifted it slowly, guiding it toward her waist, never breaking eye contact.
Then the door swung open.
"I cannot believe you're so careless, Vincent. Leaving your door unlocked—"
Emilia stopped.
Lisa froze.
I didn't move.
Emilia's eyes went from Lisa's face to her hand on mine, to where my hand was heading, then back to my face.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Her voice was calm. Too calm.
Lisa didn't even flinch. "Yes."
I pulled my hand back. "No."
Emilia looked between us, then stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She was carrying a leather tote.
"You two look like you're having fun."
Lisa smiled. "We were."
Then she got off me. Slow. Deliberate. Like she had all the time in the world.
She looked at Emilia. Arms crossed. Chin up. The kind of stare that said I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not sorry.
Emilia didn't blink. Just looked back at her, then at me. "Cozy."
I looked at Lisa. Then at Emilia. Two women. One penthouse. One me.
Less than two weeks ago, I was fixing cars and eating instant noodles. Now I had a girl who just got off my lap, a fiancée at my door, and no idea what either of them actually wanted from me.
Truck-kun really outdid himself.