Page 39 of The Romance Rivalry

Nineteen celebrity romance

There is something sadistic about having to go to an 8 a.m. class the Monday after a long holiday weekend.

I got back to my dorm late last night. My parents insisted on driving me and dragging my brother and sister along, too. We

stopped for dinner at my dad’s old favorite diner. And when I use the word “old,” it could actually describe the building,

the decor, our server, and the meatloaf I ordered. Which is still sitting in my stomach this morning like a rock.

But it was worth it. Spending those last couple hours with my folks and siblings was worth it. Solidifying that I have a place

in our family, worth it. And having that feeling of driving up to the dorm parking lot, climbing my stairs to my door, and

letting myself in, greeting my roommate, already asleep on her bed, by collapsing on top of her and hearing her mumble “welcome

home”... all worth it.

I escaped college a week ago by train, alone. And I return feeling fortified, more certain of what I have to do, and ready to get to work.

And though I’m exhausted, look a wreck, and have a nasty bout of heartburn, I run into the lecture hall first thing this morning

and scan the room with equal parts anticipation and anxiety. Okay, that’s a lie. It’s like eighty-eight percent sheer terror

I’m feeling. But there’s no denying I missed Aiden all week. A six-foot hole in my heart. So that other twelve percent is

holding strong, excited to see him.

My eyes land on the back of a head I’ve become very familiar with. Long neck, strong jawline, hair newly cut in a tight fade

in the back to longer strands in the front. Just as I clock him, as if he senses me, he turns and looks back, doing his own

scan of the room. When his eyes meet mine, they look uncertain. But that’s okay.

I’m certain enough for the both of us now. It’s my turn to come to the rescue.

I hustle down the stairs to the row where Aiden’s sitting and drop myself into the seat next to him. The feeling of déjà vu,

hearkening back to our first day in this class together, is undeniable. Good. I get to start over. I get to remove him from

the enemies-to-lovers bucket, complete with all the insecurity and trauma and damage I’ve made up in my mind about what that

trope means, and reclassify.

“Hi,” I croak out, the sound more hungry-monster-come-to-eat-you than carefree, flirty coed. His eyes widen in shock as I slap my hand over my mouth. I clear my throat and try again. “Hi,” I say. “Sorry, I was going for nonchalant, slightly breathy, kinda sexy. But I had some unresolved phlegm in my throat.”

His eyes dance as the sides of his mouth twitch, fighting the smile. “I see. Well, I’m glad you got that taken care of. Hi.

Did you have a good Thanksgiving?”

“I did. I, I never got to ask you what you ended up doing. I thought about you, a lot.”

I may be imagining things, but I’ve done enough staring at Aiden Jeon to catch the slight release of tension in his shoulders.

Relieved? Happy?

“I went to my brother’s apartment and we spent the weekend together. We tried to cook a turkey dinner but it went horribly

wrong so we ended up eating KFC and playing video games most of the time. I think it was good for him to unplug from his med-school

life.”

I nod, relieved Aiden had somewhere to go and someone to be with. Still... “And your parents?”

“They called and we did an awkward but nice family FaceTime. They both were working. Holidays are busy hospital times, apparently.”

My fingers itch to reach over and hold his hand, to offer some comfort, to let him know I’m here, I’m listening, but...

Oh, fuck it. Fuck all my insecurities and uncertainties. I grab for his hand anyways. But in the midst of my hoorah, grab-the-bull-by-the-horns

moment, it’s my right hand that makes the move. Problem is, Aiden sits to my left, forcing me to reach across my body, and

across his, to take the least convenient hand in mine, leaving my entire body now twisted and leaning on him, face inches

away from his. Well, this is uncomfortable. Public space and all.

This time he doesn’t hold back. The full smile appears, complete with dimples, and I melt into him. “Well, hello there,” he

says.

“She-makes-the-first-move trope,” I say.

He nods. “Exhibitionist trope,” he laughs.

“She-whoops-his-ass trope,” I add.

“I-sure-hope-so trope,” he counters.

“Get a room,” a guy a couple rows behind us says.

We look at each other, both sets of eyes dancing, and mouth “trope” at the same time.

I hold his gaze for just a second longer, drinking in the attention, and then I pull away, back into the more appropriate

confines of my own chair. “Sorry,” I say over my shoulder to the other students around us who I’ve subjected to our show.

“It’s been a few days since I’ve seen him, and...”

“Welcome back, class. Hope you all had a great holiday.” Dr. Kingston arrives right on cue. Saved by the surly professor. “Not to be the bearer of bad news, but we only have a few short weeks left before team projects are due. I trust you all are well rested and ready to put in the work to get these in tip-top shape to turn in. A reminder that fifty percent of your grade relies on it.”

The spike of my ever-present anxiety shows up like clockwork. But this time, it’s not followed by panic. Nor is it followed

by denial and the temptation to play ostrich, bury my head in the sand. Nope, I’m ready. There’s still a lot of work Aiden

and I need to get done, but I’m motivated and determined to pass this class.

“Oh, and before I forget.” The professor’s eyes scan the room and land exactly on me. “Irene Park and Aiden Jeon, I’d like

to speak to you both as soon as class is done. Hang around a minute or two, if you don’t mind.”

I feel Aiden’s eyes turn to me, wondering what this might be about, maybe even worried that I fucked up, again. But I don’t

turn to him. Instead, I keep my eyes on Dr. Kingston. I nod and smile in understanding. The professor smiles back. Good. This

is all good.

Aiden leans in and whispers, “What’s going on?” God, he smells so good. I’ve missed this smell so much. I want to take one

hundred deep breaths of it to calm my nerves. I want to bottle it and then bathe in it.

“It’s all gonna be okay, I promise,” I say. “Trust me?”

I’ve given him no reason to. In fact, I’ve given him many reasons not to.

But he nods and turns his attention back to the front.

I let out a silent sigh of relief and do the same.

We wait, standing side by side, as a few people speak to Professor Kingston after class. If he wants to talk to us about what

I think he does, I’m happy to be the last ones. Aiden’s toe taps as he stands with his hands in his pockets. It betrays his

cool demeanor, showing one sign of nervousness.

I nudge him with my elbow. “It’s gonna be okay,” I say. Funny how the roles have reversed. He hasn’t even done anything wrong.

In fact, the total opposite, by my guesstimation. And maybe I’ve done something right for once, too. If this works, I’ve saved

our grades in the class, and hopefully made things a little easier for Aiden and his scholarship.

“Last time he wanted to see us, it didn’t go so well,” he says, sneaking a quick glance down at me.

The guilt threatens to take root and grow. The worry of disappointing someone, the temptation to hide and lie to smooth things

over, both waiting for me to let down my guard and come back to the spots they’ve held within me, flanking me for so long

about so many other things.

But I won’t let them in. Aiden was not attacking me with that statement. And I can’t control whatever it is that Dr. Kingston is going to talk to us about. I can only deal with it as it comes, bad news or, hopefully, if I’m right, good.

“Aiden, good holidays?” He reaches out to shake Aiden’s hand and pat him on the back. Good start.

“And Irene, I know you had a very busy holiday. I hope you were able to relax and enjoy some of it as well,” he says to me.

“I did, thank you,” I say.

“No, Irene, thank you ,” he says. He turns to Aiden. “And thank you, too.”

Aiden’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Um... you’re welcome? I think?”

Dr. Kingston lets out a hearty laugh. “Let me guess, you kept this a secret?” he says to me with an exaggerated knowing wink.

“I’m the one who dragged us down in the first place. I wanted to take the responsibility of righting the wrong.” I turn to

Aiden. “I didn’t want you to have to rescue me again.”

He furrows his brow, confused, waiting to be let in on the big secret.

“I... I completed the extra credit assignment.”

Aiden opens his mouth to protest, but I keep going.

“I know you said you’d help. But I honestly didn’t want you to have to take on additional work just because I’d been flailing all semester. You had already been leading the charge with the group project. And yes, I was a little flustered and uncertain how to proceed with this. But it all changed this past week. I read something new... something so inspired and beautiful and funny and wise. I read it in one sitting, couldn’t put it down. And then I read it all over again, slowly, savoring it, annotations and all. And because I wanted so badly to talk about it, to talk about the author and the talent there, I decided to use it for the extra credit assignment.”

“I have to admit, when I received the email with the write-up on Thanksgiving night, I was quite shocked,” Dr. Kingston says.

“But there was such enthusiasm and passion in Irene’s words, I knew the book must have been quite special. In fact, I was

so intrigued by her assessment and the analysis against what she researched about the author, I asked her for a copy of the

book myself. I, too, read it quite quickly, unable to put it down. What a beautiful display of love, commitment, loyalty,

and personal growth. And funny, too. With just a nice touch of spice as well. What would you say, Irene? Two chili peppers?”

The twinkle in his eye makes me laugh. He loves being in on this joke, apparently.

“I’d agree. With all of it.”

“Um, wow, well, that’s amazing,” Aiden says. “I love when you find a book that you’re excited about, Irene. That’s always

some of my favorite content of yours. I understand how you were curious, Dr. Kingston. Irene has an infectious way of making

you want to read whatever she’s talking about when she dives deep into books she loves.”

Ahhh, Aiden, trying to be a part of the conversation while he still has no clue what’s really happening here. I want to kiss him so badly. I hope he lets me again real soon. But I have an apology, an explanation, and a promise to make to him before we get to that. Later.

“In any case, I wanted to thank you, Irene. And I wanted to tell you both the good news. With this excellent extra credit

submission, barring any total misstep on your final project, I’m pretty confident you both will pass the class. Irene, it

was close there for a while. And Aiden, well, you’ll do so with flying colors. And I have no doubt you’ll be in solid standing

with the scholarship committee. I’m quite eager for them to read your writing.”

“That’s amazing news,” I say, relieved and happy at the same time.

“Thank you. That is great news.” Aiden’s huge smile and so-cute-I-want-to-eat-them dimples are on full display. “That really

must have been some book, and,” he looks down at me, “some really well-done assignment, to bring our scores up that much.

Thank you,” he says, this time to me. “Now I want to read it, too!”

Dr. Kingston looks at Aiden, confusion tightening his eyes. He shifts his gaze to me. “Wait, Aiden doesn’t know which book

you wrote about?”

I shake my head. “He doesn’t. He and I have a lot to talk about.”

“Ah, well, good luck with all of that. Aiden, I’m sending you an email in a little bit... with a proposition of sorts. Don’t open it until you and Irene have”—he looks back at me before continuing—“had your talk. It will all make a lot more sense then. I look forward to hearing back from you later.”

“Okay?”

“Thanks so much, Dr. Kingston. We’ll talk soon. And I promise our final project is gonna be a doozy!” I grab Aiden’s hand

and start to pull him away. Maybe I don’t have the right to anymore. Maybe I never did. But I do it anyways—I grab on, interlace

my fingers with his, and hold tight, leading the way.

“Wanna tell me what all that was about?” he asks me as I pull him out into the quad.

The quad. My dad says some of his best memories are of times hanging out here. The weather is getting a little colder now,

but we’re still in Southern California. It’s not so cold that we’d be uncomfortable. And I’ve decided I’d like to start hanging

out more in this grassy quad, too. I want to take advantage of all the things this school has to offer, actually. But first...

I stop in front of the short stone wall separating the walkway from the grass and press down on Aiden’s shoulders to encourage

him to sit. I remain standing. I want to be able to look directly into his eyes when I bare my soul.

“I’m sorry. For everything. Yes, for failing my classes, especially for not doing all the lit assignments, since that directly impacts you. But more so for not being honest with you. And for not having the guts to explain that I was struggling. And for lashing out at you when you confronted me about it. For not believing in you. For not accepting your words when you told me how you felt about me. For accusing you of using me. For pushing you away.” I go through my mental checklist to see if I’ve missed anything.

“Wow, that’s... a lot of ‘I’m sorries,’” he says.

“I know. And it still doesn’t feel like enough,” I admit. “But I want you to know, I’ve done a lot of thinking, assessing,

planning. And I’m starting with the healing. I can’t fix it all and change everything over one holiday week. But I’ve had

a talk with my parents. I told them everything and they kinda helped set me straight. And then, there’s you. You also helped

set me straight. You helped me to see... myself. Through your eyes. And through your words.”

“I did? But we didn’t even talk this week,” he says.

“Aiden.” I grab both his hands and hold them in front of us. “The book I did the extra credit assignment on was yours.”

“What?” He stands up quickly, looking down at me. I can’t tell exactly how he’s feeling about this bit of information. So

I hold on tighter to his hands. If he’s mad and tries to pull away, I’ll wear him down with my superhuman strength and then

tie him up and hold him captive until he caves.

“ Born to Rule. I did the assignment on it. I loved it. I am so fucking impressed, Aiden. You’re incredibly talented. I may be biased, but I swear, it’s one of the best things I’ve read in a long time. And, well, seems Dr. Kingston agrees with me.”

Aiden drops his jaw, moving his eyes side to side, thinking, considering all the implications of what I’ve just told him.

“You liked it?”

“No, I loved it.”

“And Dr. Kingston liked it?”

“Apparently, he loved it, too. Two chili peppers and all.”

He finally comes back to me, all attention on the person in front of him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, it all happened so fast. I was overflowing with thoughts and emotions by the time I finished it. I had to start writing.

I couldn’t record a review because the book isn’t published... yet. Crying shame. But I thought if anyone might appreciate

what the author was trying to do and how he managed to do it in the story, it would be Dr. Kingston. So I started writing

and couldn’t stop until I’d had the assignment done. I wanted to send it to you to review. I’m sorry I took this all upon

myself. But like I said before, it wasn’t fair for you to have to take on more work because of my slacking. I wanted to do

it on my own, for us both.”

“I can’t believe it,” he says.

“Believe it. And believe this: I love you, Aiden. I still haven’t quite gotten over the belief that I don’t deserve you. But

I’ll admit to the world and beyond that I love you. And if you’ll have me...”

He tugs me toward him until only inches separate us. He moves his hands to cup my face and leans forward until his forehead meets mine. He closes his eyes and kisses the side of my nose. I breathe him in and melt against him.

“I love you, Irene. I won’t use flowery prose to describe it so you won’t think I’m just trying to say the right things. I’ll

just be honest and clear. I love you. I have from the very beginning, and I will till our Happily Ever After.”

“You wrote me a whole book, Aiden. I think I’ll believe anything you say to me about love moving forward. You’re the romance

expert.”

“Learned everything I know about romance from you, Irene.”

Aiden moves even closer until no space exists between us. His lips find mine, his kiss filled with longing and love.

I move my hands up to grab hold of his shoulders. I lift myself slightly onto my tippy-toes, trying to get even closer to

him. Aiden drops his arms to encircle me, and if I thought there wasn’t space between us before, I was wrong.

“In case you didn’t hear me say it earlier and I get too distracted to say it later, I love you, too, Aiden.”

He smiles against my lips and kisses me again.

“Take me home,” I say.

Home. A small single dorm room. Brighton College. Aiden Jeon.