No Rush, We Have Time - Chapter 2

Stunned by his shamelessness, I gritted my teeth and reached for the phone.

Qi Yan let me take it without a care.

“Deleting it won’t help. I’ve already backed it up on my computer.”

“Fuck!”

I threw the phone aside, pushed myself up, and punched him without hesitation.

This goddamn dog just wouldn’t leave me alone!

He’d been doing perfectly well abroad. Why the hell had he come back?

Qi Yan picked himself up off the floor, looking rather worse for wear.

He prodded the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

“You split my mouth.”

I picked up the clothes at the foot of the bed. Before I could put them on, he caught my wrists and pinned me back down.

He gripped my cheeks tight again, and his lips pressed against mine.

Qi Yan passed the taste of blood into my mouth and earned himself another punch.

He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned again.

“Don’t be mad. Move around that much and you’ll hurt your ass.”

His utter lack of shame made me laugh in disbelief.

I took a deep breath. My ass really did hurt.

“What exactly do you want?”

Qi Yan shrugged, his tone casual.

“We both had a good time last night. Why don’t we keep it going?”

I looked at him.

Qi Yan sat on the floor with both hands braced behind him.

His lips curved upward, his eyes narrowed, his smile begging for a punch.

But it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

I abruptly calmed down and headed for the bathroom.

“I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

I’d been too angry to care whether I was dressed or had any shame left.

Qi Yan’s eyes stayed glued to my body.

I kicked him as I walked past.

“Fucking dog,” I said coldly.

When I came out after washing up, Qi Yan was still sitting there in a daze.

I nudged him with my foot again and tossed my car keys into his lap.

“If you’ve got that much time on your hands, come to the police station with me.”

Qi Yan paused.

I went on, “Someone drugged me last night. You probably saw him, right?”

“Why else do you think I would’ve slept with you?”

After we came out of the police station, I lit a cigarette.

The places where I’d punched Qi Yan’s face had started to swell.

“You can go now.”

Qi Yan plucked the cigarette from between my lips, put it in his own mouth, and took a drag.

“What about my suggestion?”

I gave him an indifferent glance.

“What’s the rush?”

“If you can’t control that thing, go cut it off.”

…

On the drive home, I took stock of the situation.

Qi Yan and I had never gotten along, even as kids.

The reason was simple.

We moved in the same circles. Our fathers knew each other. We were the same age, with similar interests.

Put people together, and comparisons were inevitable.

My parents had come from ordinary backgrounds. They’d been lucky enough to catch a business boom, but they’d also worked hard to make their fortune.

In these upper-class circles, they always felt a rung below everyone else.

So they pinned their hopes of holding their heads high on me.

Under my parents’ constant criticism, I heard his name every day.

Whatever I did, I had to be compared to him. Whatever he did, I was supposed to learn from him.

And I always fell just a little short.

Gradually, I came to resent him.

We had plenty of mutual friends, but our relationship inevitably got worse and worse.

We’d even gotten into a fight before Qi Yan left the country.

After that, I heard nothing from him.

I hadn’t expected our reunion years later to go like this.

Once I’d calmed down and thought it through, sleeping together wasn’t such a big deal.

Qi Yan seemed happy enough about it.

That fucking dog’s grin just got on my nerves.

A few days later, while I was handling business at the office, a message from Qi Yan arrived.

[Thought it over yet?]

I turned my phone facedown and ignored it.

His behavior had infuriated me, but with a cooler head, I knew he wasn’t actually going to do anything with that photo.

And I had started this, after all.

It was just that everything he said made me want to punch him, and I was used to snapping at him.

What I was thinking about was this:

Qi Yan was half a head taller than me and a little more muscular.

That night, he’d lifted me off the bed with one arm. He was definitely a lot stronger than I was.

I didn’t remember much of the beginning.

But he’d been sober. He could have stopped things from happening in any number of ways.

Clearly, he hadn’t.

He hadn’t even hit me.

He’d been pretty cooperative, actually.

I tapped my fingers against my desk, considering why.

Surely he couldn’t like me?

Then I remembered how he’d nearly strangled me during that fight before he went abroad.

I shuddered and dismissed the idea.

A knock came at my office door.

My assistant pushed up their glasses.

“Mr. Lin, dinner with Xuda Technology is at six. We should get going.”

I closed my laptop.

“Let’s go.”

…