And baby, I'm no stranger to heartbreak
And the pain of always being let go
We both found each other tonight
So if love is nothing more than a waste of your time
Waste it on me
"Waste it on Me" by BTS
Chapter 5: Hearts on Fire
Lara Jean peered into the glass, marveling at all the different flavors. She settles on chocolate and banana cinnamon in a waffle cone. Peter watched as she licked the ice cream so delicately, her tongue poking out every so often and suddenly, he realized that maybe getting ice cream wasn't necessarily the best idea. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat.
"I promise I wasn't ignoring you this week, Covey."
She is silent, waiting for him to continue, and that makes this even harder for him.
"Work is just crazy." He finished lamely. "This is going to be pretty par the course for me, unfortunately. If I'm not traveling Monday through Thursday then I'm local but sometimes those projects are even worse with longer hours. It just never ends."
He sounded dejected and for a moment, she saw a glimpse of the same resignation that he had all those years ago when she told him about her acceptance into UNC and he just froze, reeling from the overwhelming weight of disappointment. "This is going to be harder than I thought it would be." He had said to her. She remembered how desperately she just wanted to hold him and make him feel better. That same feeling reemerged within her.
She tried to keep her voice breezy. "I totally get it. Sometimes during the semester, I get so busy that I forget to eat and suddenly, it's 9PM and all I've had all day is a bagel. The semester is winding down for me which means at least I'll get to focus on research and writing but sometimes it feels like it never stops."
"Exactly." She understood. She always understood. "But, hey, I have a half day tomorrow."
"Oooo! What are you going to do with all this spare time?"
He snorted. "I don't know. Probably sleep."
"Peter Kavinsky. I never pegged you for such a bore."
He threw his napkin at her and smiled, for the first time in days.
It's late by the time they get back to her place. They fell into effortless conversation and on the way back, Lara Jean finally managed to convince Peter to let her pick out a book for him to read.
"I'm not reading any of your sex novels though." He insisted.
She huffed at the suggestion and opened the door to her apartment, grumbling. "I wasn't going to give you one of those anyway, thank you very much."
She rushed to her bookcase, looking through the selection before quickly finding her book of choice. "North and South, Elizabeth Gaskell." She handed it to him, bouncing on her feet, unable to contain her excitement. When they were dating, she constantly harangued him to read more but never once did he cave. "It's such a poignant and incisive look into how the Industrial Revolution ripped apart so much of Great Britain. The social commentary is fascinating and Gaskell is such an underappreciated author. And, there's romance!"
"You really think I'll like this?"
"You're going to love it."
She was practically giddy and Peter couldn't help but reach out, finally grabbing for her, something that he had wanted to do all night. It was automatic, like he had been doing this for years, all along, never a pause. She lifted her head and her lips met his. He was firm, pushing against her, seeking more. Her hands went up into his hair and she moaned into his mouth. He caressed the exposed skin between her shirt and skirt. And then, she was pulling him towards her bedroom.
They were a tangle of limbs when they landed against her bed with a gentle thud. He pushed her down, pouring all the unspoken words into his kiss. He needed her to understand this was what was missing from his life all these years.
She shimmied out of her skirt as he was taking off his shirt, removing his tie. God, why did he decide to wear so much clothing today? He reached towards her like a man possessed, taking off her shirt and immediately pressing his lips to her neck, leaving kisses down to her shoulder. She leaned her head back, giving him full access. She pulled his face to hers and greedily started to kiss him deeper, like she couldn't pull him close enough.
He pushed her back towards her pillows, moving his body over hers, and slowly made his way down, kissing her shoulder, then the valley between her breasts, her stomach, and down to her simple cotton panties. He hooked a finger around the top and slowly, torturously, pulled them down her legs, kissing her thigh then her calf and finally the tops of her bare feet.
He pushed her legs apart and she flushed. He loved that even in this intimate moment, she could still be so shy. He looked at her, his eyes asking for permission, and she nods ever so slightly. And then his lips were against her clit, sucking and licking. Her breathing got heavy and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, grabbing at her sheets. How was he so good at this?
She moved against him, her hands now firmly grasping at his hair. When he stops, her eyes fly open, and he moves off of her, searching for his pants.
"What are you-" she asks in alarm. Before she could finish her sentence, she saw the condom in his hand. She suddenly realized their current situation and just how exposed she was.
Before the insecurities could creep in, he runs his hands down her sides in the gentlest way, as if she were fragile, as if she were glass, as if she would disappear in an instant if he dared to close his eyes. He kisses her softly, needing her to understand all that he was feeling. He was never good with words and communication. It never came out the way he wanted.
In this moment, none of that mattered. After another few moments, he ripped open the package and slipped the condom on, and then he pushed himself into her. He clenched his fists around her head, steadying himself.
"Lara Jean," he whispered huskily, drinking in her moans as they began to move against each other. He started to quicken his pace, unable to control himself, thrusting deeper into her. She matched his actions, running her nails down his back, not caring if she was going to leave marks. She looked up at him, her eyes unreadable, and he leaned down, kissing her softly.
This was everything. She was everything.
It was early when they woke up. His pants had started buzzing non-stop on the floor and Peter realized it was his daily alarm. She was still groggy when he gently turned her towards him, her eyelids fluttering open.
"Mmm. Hi." She said with a small smile.
He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. "Good morning."
"I need to run to work." He said sadly and then grabbed her hand, kissing her palm. "But, can we get dinner tonight and talk?"
"Yes, takeout please."
"Of course."
She kissed him again, this time deeper. He dressed quickly. Lara Jean marveled at how he was so functional this early in the morning. When he left, his cologne still lingered in the air and she fell back against her pillows, grabbing one and pushing it into her face, her scream of joy muffled.
She felt light, as if all the stress and anxiety from her entire week had slipped away. She nearly bounced to her 8AM class. This week's class was a bit unusual. She typically taught alone but they were nearing finals period and the professor thought it was easier to combine sections. So, she found herself sitting next to John Ambrose McClaren at 7:55AM, going over their game plan for the class once again.
"So, we're going to pass out these points and have the students debate each other. Even if they don't agree with the point, they'll need to talk through them anyway." She started dividing up the prompts, one at each seat around the table.
"This is going to be fun."
"Hand me your prompts."
His hand brushed against hers as he handed her the slips of paper. She felt a jolt of electricity go through her, being careful not to show this to him.
The students filed in after a few minutes. Lara Jean and John took turns explaining the debate structure. The first students stood up, facing each other, backs to the white board.
"Fanny Price is a feminist…"
John raised an eyebrow at Lara Jean from across the table, mouthing "Really?" to her.
She deliberately ignored him, her lips upturned in a smile.
Lara Jean finished up with the last of her grade reports for the debate session around 11:30AM. She texted Chris.
Lara Jean: "Hey, I'm done with grading early. Lunch? I can come to you."
Chris: "Yes, please. One of my experiments blew up in my face today and I could use some sushi."
Lara Jean: "I'll be there in 20."
Lara Jean was sitting on one of the many chairs around the entrance to Chris's company building when she saw her walk through the glass doors. If you had told her all those years ago that Chris would be a researcher at a pharmaceutical company, she would've never believed it. Most of her days consisted of running experiments in the lab and analyzing findings, something that she had come to love. She got paid to try new things and sometimes, literally blow things up.
Chris bounded up to Lara Jean, sidling up next to her and bumping her shoulders. "Sooooooo, how was your evening? Eventful?"
"Very." Lara Jean smiled. "I'll tell you over lunch."
As soon as they sat down and ordered, Lara Jean looked around them, eyes darting back and forth, paranoid at any potential audience.
"We did it."
"You can say sex, Lara Jean." Chris snorted. "You are 26 and I KNEW IT. Brownie points to me for always being a genius and predicting things. How was it?"
She harrumphed and crossed her arms across her chest. "Okay, fine. We had sex. And, it was fine."
"It was fine?" Chris asked. "That doesn't sound good. Sex should never be fine."
"Ughh, okay, so it was amazing and soooo much better than I remembered it being."
"Well, that's not surprising since he's probably had a lot of practice since then."
Lara Jean looked down, biting her lip, and started fiddling with her chopsticks. "You think he sleeps around?"
Chris shrugged. "I mean he is a hot-blooded male in his 20's. You can't blame him but if you're asking if you're another fling then I would say no. You have not been flung, LJ."
"Well, he flung me a little last night." She blushed deep red.
"LJ, you dog!"
"Okay, I need your serious advice. What do you think I should do? Like do I talk to him about this?"
"You know you two are like the worst communicators I've ever seen. It's actually shocking. Yes, you should definitely talk to him but don't fuck it up. Remember what the end game is."
Lara Jean looked down, tapping one chopstick against the table. "I don't even know if I know what I want the end game to be."
"We both know that's a lie." She could tell that Lara Jean didn't want to talk about it further so she pivoted. "Did you tell Margot and Kitty yet?"
"Ughh, do I have to? They're going to have so many questions. And, I mean, what if it doesn't work out? I feel like Kitty took it worse than I did last time around. I don't want to disappoint her again."
"You need to tell them."
"I'll tell them after we talk. At least then I'll know what's actually happening here."
"Okay." Chris conceded. "Your life, your decision."
Lara Jean had been bustling around her apartment for the entire afternoon, cleaning, doing laundry (fresh sheets!), and baking peppermint chocolate chip cookies. She hadn't used peppermint chocolate chips in a while and was excited to see how they would turn out.
The timer dinged the same moment that she heard a knock on the door. "One second!" She yelled out, quickly turning off the oven, and setting the tray of cookies out to cool. She opened the door and there he stood, takeout in hand, and the biggest smile on his face.
She leaned up towards him and kissed him gently. "Hi."
He returned the kiss, pulling her into him, deepening it. "Hi Covey."
When she pulled back, he held onto her waist, helping to steady her from the dizziness. She smiled up at him and took the takeout from his hands. "Oh my god, yum!"
And then they were both feasting, talking about how crazy the week was. Peter explained the current project he was working on though she didn't really understand the minutiae. They talked about the debate in class and how her research was going.
She was picking at the crumbled fortune cookie when she asked him. "So, do you ever think about grad school or are you done forever with academics?"
"I think about business school sometimes." He admitted. "I guess that's part of the reason why I'm working so hard at my job. I'd love to be sponsored and have that paid for. No debt!"
"That's the dream!"
"But, I'm not sure. I think maybe in a year I'll start thinking seriously about taking the GMATs and applying. I don't even know how I would do it with this job. I barely have time to sleep much less study."
"I can help you with writing and verbal portions." She offered. It slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself. He just said that would be a year from now.
"You'd be my tutor, Covey?" He asked, teasing.
"I remember studying for the GREs and they were brutal. It's time to pass on my wisdom."
They drifted back into easy conversation, chatting about the last season of Game of Thrones, when Lara Jean started to get nervous. She needed to stop avoiding the inevitable discussion and just ask. Just do it, Chris's voice was in her head.
"So, what are we?"
This caught Peter off guard. They were literally just talking about how it was such crap that Bran became King.
"We're whatever you want to be, Covey." He wanted to tell her how he felt, how amazing it felt to have her back in his life again. How last night was special to him and how even now, all he wants to do is kiss her. But, he doesn't, afraid of the risk of rejection. After all, Lara Jean Song-Covey always broke up with Peter Kavinsky. Not the other way around. She was the one that always left him.
"So, friends?" It was a question not a statement. He tried to read her face and it was a careful neutral mask. He was impressed. She was usually so expressive. He could not hide the disappointment in his own face, however, taken aback by her suggestion. "Yeah, friends." He agreed hollowly.
She hedged, again asking not stating. "Friends that have sex?"
His head snapped up and he stared at her intently, needing and wanting her to give a clue to what was going on in her head. Nothing. He cleared his throat. "Yes, Covey. Friends that have sex."
What the hell was he saying? What the hell were they doing? This was not at all what he thought this conversation would go and he shook his head, realizing just how pathetic he was. He finally got her back in his life and would agree to anything, desperately trying to stay in her life. He would take her in whatever way she would offer. If it was friends and casual sex – he would need to grow to be okay with that. He couldn't lose her again.