Page 49 of Worth Fighting For

Shang throws his head back and laughs. “Oh wow, definitely not bar-fight material then. But you know what? For someone who drinks oat milk matcha lattes, you did really well. You took out, like, two guys back there.”

Somehow, despite the ridiculousness of our night, joy, sparkling like champagne, is bubbling through my limbs. A slow smile spreads across my face, taking over my entire expression. “I did,” I say, softly at first, then louder. “I really did, didn’t I? Did you see the way I tripped that guy over? He was twice my size and I took him down just like that.” The pride I feel right now is real. Nothing to do with the Ranch Mulan persona, or the Zhou persona, or any of it. For the first time in a long while, I don’t think:What would Baba do?I don’t care, not in this moment. I want to be carried away with the giddiness of what just happened.

“Power move,” Shang says, still laughing.

“And the way I punched that guy in the nose—”

“Hmm, I don’t know that I would call it a punch,” Shang says. “It was more like a smack. But was it really a smack? I saw your face when you did it, you looked more shocked than he did.”

“That’s because Iwasshocked!” I cry, gasping with laughter. “I didn’t—I wasn’t even thinking, I just raised my hand—I remember reading that you shouldn’t punch with your fist, because you run the risk of breaking your thumb, so you should do it with the heel of your palm, and I just—I just did it.” I stare at Shang for a second, mouth agape. “All these years I thought I was meant to be in finance, but what if I missed my calling as an MMA fighter?”

“Oh yeah, the UFC missed out there.” Shang grins at me. Then his grin fades and he gazes at me with a new expression. “Jokes aside, what you did back there…I really did not see that coming.”

My chest turns warm. Self-doubt begins to creep in. Did I completely misjudge the situation back at the bar? But when I glance back at him, he’s shaking his head in awe.

“I mean, that was—It was pretty amazing,” he says. “You are unexpected in so many ways.”

“In good ways?” I tease.

“Very much so,” he says, and the seriousness in his voice makes the back of my neck break out into a sweat. I sneak another glance at him, but he seems content to stare down the road, so I tell myself to resume breathing normally and try to forget the sudden intense moment.

For a while, we drive in comfortable silence, enjoying the long, deserted road. I look through the windshield and am surprised by the sheer amount of stars glittering in the dark sky. Back in the city, the stars are never quite so visible due to the light pollution, but now here they are, shining in all their glory. We stop at a red light. “I’ve never seen anything quite so beautiful,” I say.

“Yeah,” Shang replies.

I glance over at him and catch him looking at me. It only lasts a split second before he tears his eyes away from me and focuses on the road.

And because I’m buzzing with adrenaline and alcohol, I say, “That was a total romance novel moment, you know.”

Shang keeps his eyes steadfastly on the road, waiting patiently for the light to turn green. “What was?”

“When I said I’ve never seen anything so, uh…” My voice falters. Am I really about to explain the whole thing about something being beautiful and him saying yes while looking at me? My entire face burns. I’m not quite as drunk as I need to be to have this conversation with him right now. “Never mind.”

Shang turns to look at me, and I spot the playful smirk he’s wearing. I narrow my eyes at him. “You totally knew what I was talking about!”

“No idea,” he says, full-on grinning now.

“You’re about as convincing as my cousin’s toddler when he swears he doesn’t know where all the cookies went.”

Shang laughs. “That obvious, huh?” He glances over at me again, and this time, his smile is so soft that I can no longer deny it. That change in him. No, not in him, but between us. We’re no longer employees from two companies. We’re two people whose masks are slipping despite our best efforts.

What would B—

I shush the voice in my head. I’m so tired of wondering what other people would do. I know exactly what I want to do, and maybe it’s time to stop pretending. Slowly, achingly slowly, I lean over toward Shang. His eyes widen for a split second, then he leans over toward me, too. In the silence of the car, the rhythms of our breathing are so loud. Our lips are mere inches away when there’s a sudden honk behind us. We jump, jerking back.

“Light’s green,” I blurt out, my entire head burning with embarrassment.

“Yeah,” Shang mutters. We drive some way in painful silence before he says, “You should get some rest. I’m driving pretty slowly because it’s so dark out here, so it’ll take a while before we get home.”

“Good idea,” I say. My heart feels like it’s no longer in my chest but thumping somewhere inside my skull. Did I really almost kiss Shang? I’m definitely blaming that on the tequila. Okay, I can’t dwell on that right now because if I think about it even for a second longer, I am going to implode. Instead, I settle back in my seat and replay the bar fight in my mind. I’ve never done anything even remotely close to that ever in my lifetime. And though it’s something I never want to do again, it’s certainly a memory I’ll treasure for a long, long time. And, despite the strange almost-kiss, I feel so warm and safe now, in the car with Shang, driving into the darkness, where it feels as though we are the only two people in the whole world. I never expected to feel quite so safe with him. When my eyes drift shut and I start to doze off, I do so with a small smile on my lips.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ibarely remember getting back to the ranch. I am only vaguely conscious of Shang giving me a gentle shake and me snorting awake to find a dried trail of drool down my chin. I am then aware of bits and pieces of the rest of the night: me and Mushu staggering into the house and crawling—literally crawling—up the stairs before collapsing into our beds.

Morning comes all too quickly. We forgot to close the curtains the night before, so sunlight blares through the windows without mercy, piercing through my eyelids like a golden knife.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, but I become more and more aware each second of a flurry of movement in the rest of the house. Footsteps stomping up and down the stairs, people chattering, calling out for this and that, more footsteps, andargh, why is this household so alive when it’s barely even dawn yet?

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