Miggy's POV
"Ahem... I think you and Alex should go out more often, bro," Meynard teased as we drove home from the rehab center where we had just visited Mom.
It was our first visit in three months. We hadn't seen her since she was admitted for alcohol dependency. If she hadn't collapsed after drinking on an empty stomach, we probably wouldn't have had a proper conversation about getting her help. That emergency became the push we all needed to finally sit down and talk to her seriously.
"We don't really hang out that much anymore," I said, keeping my eyes on the road. "Nobody's been staying at the condo either. You've been out a lot too, busy with Shane's wedding plans."
"Sorry, bro. Work's been brutal. Projects are coming in non-stop."
"I actually heard from Andrew that your team's doing great," I said, meaning it. "I ran into him and his wife at the grocery the other day—he said your group's one of the best-performing teams right now. Congrats."
Meynard chuckled, clearly pleased. "Yeah, I got lucky with my teammates. They're driven, always pushing each other. The energy's contagious."
"One of these days, I'll hear you've been promoted," I added with a grin.
He laughed. "You wish!"
As we neared his house, I glanced at him. "Where should I drop you off?"
"Wait—weren't you treating me to dinner?"
"I thought you already had plans with Shane," I said. "That's why I didn't invite you. I asked Alex to have dinner with me instead. But you can still come if you want."
"Nah, I don't want to get in the way of you two," he said, feigning innocence but sounding a little too amused.
"Oh, come on, don't be dramatic. It's just a meal. It's not like the three of us haven't eaten together before."
He didn't respond to that. Instead, he changed the subject with a smirk.
"So, where are you taking her if you're driving your own car?"
"I'm picking her up from his office."
"You're not going up?"
"No need. I'm not around this weekend anyway—I'll be visiting nanny," I said. She's been sick lately. I usually bring her groceries, help with checkups. You know how close we are—she practically raised me.
"Awww," he teased, clutching his chest. "Big brother is falling in love again."
I rolled my eyes. "There's no love story here. We're just friends."
"Just friends, huh? That's what people always say before they realize they're in love. First, it's just friends, then suddenly you're both heartbroken and confused."
"Seriously, nothing like that is going on. We're fine."
"Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you two are practically living together. If she's not at your place, you're at her's."
"Stop. Don't be gross. That's not what this is."
"Come on! Not even a kiss?"
"N-No!"
"Then why are you stuttering?"
"I am not stuttering!"
Meynard grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Just admit it. You've thought about kissing her, haven't you? Come on—it's Alex. She's got a face and body straight out of a magazine."
"I haven't!"
"There it is again—your voice just cracked. Busted!"
I groaned and shook my head. "Just go inside and tell nanny I'll visit Saturday morning."
"Sure thing," he said, laughing as he opened the door. "But dude, seriously—this is getting interesting."
I waved him off and drove away, pretending not to hear him. But the truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about what he said.
Because the worst part?
He wasn't completely wrong.
We were always together. I brought Alex around without a second thought. When I couldn't make it to her place, hse came to mine. It felt easy, seamless. Safe.
And then there were the smaller things—like how I kept noticing her lips. They were full, a soft shade of pink. I remembered how red they looked that night we drank at her place. I kept glancing at them without meaning to.
"Was that strange? Was I overthinking?"
"Or was Meynard right?"
"Did I… like Alex?"
"What the hell is going on with me?"
I didn't know. And I didn't want to think about it too deeply. Not right now.
I had somewhere to be.
I had to pick her up.
It never left my mind as I drove to Alex's office to pick him up.
"Hi! Have you been waiting long?" I greeted as she opened the car door and got in.
"Hi! I just got down with my officemates. How was your day with Meynard? Where is he? I thought you two were together?"
"Yeah, we were, but he had to pick up Shane from work."
"Ah, I thought he was joining us for dinner."
"I invited him. He said he might follow if he could. They're swamped with wedding prep these days."
"Their wedding's coming up fast!"
"Yeah."
She turned to me, curious. "Have you thought about what you're wearing to it?"
I chuckled. "Not really. But I was planning to check out a boutique with one of Mom's friends. There might be something there that would suit me and you too."
"No thanks. I'm sure I can't afford anything from there"
"Hey, that's why I'm taking you. My treat. Don't worry about it."
She shook her head quickly. "No, it's okay. I can just find something at the mall."
I frowned. "Why go through the trouble when I already offered?"
"Because..." she hesitated. "You've already spent a lot on me. It's kind of embarrassing."
"Embarrassing?"
"You don't owe me anything. We're just... friends. You don't have to go out of your way for me."
"I know I don't have to. I just want to. There's nothing wrong with that, right?"
"Wait, are we fighting?" she asked with a laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"I don't know. I was just offering to help you with what you'll wear to the wedding, and suddenly you're turning it into a moral dilemma."
"So now you're mad?"
"I'm not mad!" I insisted, though maybe I sounded a little too defensive.
"You're frowning."
"I'm just... disappointed. You always second-guess the things I do for you. Like you're not allowed to accept anything without feeling guilty."
She went quiet, then muttered, "Well, maybe because I'm not used to people giving without asking for anything back."
"I'm not asking for anything. A simple 'thank you' would be enough."
He sighed. "Fine. Yes, okay? I'll come with you to the boutique. Happy now?"
"Extremely. Although I still don't get why we had to bicker over a gown."
"Oh gosh! If only we could be this dramatic in our arguments, then we'd seem like a couple in love."
That shut me up. I stared out the windshield, pretending to focus on the road. "In love?"
I wanted to tell him we were just friends. I should've said it. But I wasn't sure anymore. Not when her words had a way of landing somewhere deep in me.
We arrived at the restaurant and ordered quietly. The tension still hung in the air. I couldn't tell if it was just me or if she felt it too.
After dinner, we both stayed unusually silent.
"Should I ask her to drink? Maybe loosen up the mood? At least we could talk properly..."
When we got back to the tower, I stopped by the convenience store. I didn't tell her why—I just grabbed a couple of beers and some chips. Maybe she'd say no. Maybe I'd drink alone.
But when I knocked on her door and he opened it, she looked surprised.
"Huh?"
"Are you busy? Want to have a drink?"
"You should've said so earlier," she said, opening the door wider. "Come in."
"I didn't plan it. I just suddenly thought it would be nice not to drink alone. But if you're busy—"
"I'm not. You already said work stays at the office, remember?" She took the bag from me and grabbed my wrist lightly. "Come on."
"Why the hell am I nervous? We've done this before... right?"
"Get me the bottle opener," she said casually. "I'll put the rest in the fridge."
She left me in the living room while I sat, pretending to look around.
She came back, setting the beer and chips on the coffee table. "So? What made you suddenly want to drink tonight? Just bored or something on your mind?"
"Nothing."
"Weh? Did you think about her again?"
"Huh?"
"Who else?"
I shook my head. "No. That's done. I accepted it a long time ago. It never got deep enough for anything serious."
She raised an eyebrow. "So, what's bothering you?"
I wanted to say, "you." I wanted to say, "your shampoo is messing with my head and you're too damn close all the time and it's confusing as hell."
But I said nothing.
Fire away," she teased, nudging me.
I groaned internally. "Crap. Why does she smell good even when she's just sitting next to me? Meynard might be right—I'm totally screwed."
"Earth to Miguel!"
I blinked. "What?"
"You were spacing out."
"Sorry. Just remembered something."
"Come on spill the tea, what's going on?"
I knocked back a gulp of beer. "Nothing important."
"OMG! Are you planning to get drunk? Should I call Meynard?"
"No! Don't."
She gave me a look. "Something's really off about you today. This isn't the Miggy I know."
I tried to lighten the mood. "Maybe I'm melting from your stare."
He laughed. "I'm just trying to read you."
"Nothing to read. Drink." I tossed a chip at her, and she caught it in her mouth, like always.
"I'll grab more," I said, needing an excuse to escape her gaze. She was looking at me like she knew.
After we finished all six bottles, Alex leaned back on the sofa beside me.
"Can we get more? I'm still up for it."
"You have work tomorrow."
"So? It's not like we haven't done this before."
"Fine. Wait here, I'll go down."
She walked ahead of me to the door. We returned shortly with another pack of beers and kept drinking. The TV was off; we leaned side-by-side against the couch in a comfortable sprawl.
Then I finally spoke, breaking the deafening silence between us.
"How's that guy from your office? The one who was flirting with you?"
I saw her as she rolled her eyes. "Gone. Total playboy. A girl who used to work with him warned me. Turns out it's his thing—flirting with every newbie who walks in."
"What an idiot."
"Yeah. Jerk."
He paused. "What about your old crush in Bulacan?"
"I didn't see that either. He posted on Facebook that he had a girlfriend at work."
"If you'd just listened to Meynard and me, it wouldn't be you!"
"Let's face it—we probably weren't meant to be," she said with a soft shrug. "It's hard. I'm here in Taguig, and he's in Bulacan."
"Are you sorry?"
"At first, yeah. But I realized we just weren't for each other. You?"
"What about me?"
"You don't like anyone yet?"
I hesitated, rubbing my finger against my eyebrow—a nervous habit I wasn't even aware of until now. I prayed she wouldn't notice.
"Why?" she asked, sipping her beer from the glass she held. I exhaled hard, trying to play it cool.
"How did this conversation even become about me? Tsk."
"Eh, you won't tell me anything lately."
"I just… don't know how to explain it."
"Why not?" She shifted closer, leaning on the sofa. I realized we were only inches apart now.
"O sweet Jesus, spare me please."
"I don't know," I mumbled.
"You're so vague, huh. I answered your questions. Now you won't answer mine?" she pouted.
"I just… really don't know, okay?" My voice cracked slightly from the nerves. My hands were cold.
"You know you can tell me anything, right?"
I shut my eyes and sighed deeply, forcing myself to gather whatever courage I had left.
"Okay. You really want to know?"
"Of course! That's why we're here, right?"
"If… If I did something stupid in front of you, would you get mad?"
"Huh?" she frowned, confused. "Are you changing the subject again?"
"Her lips are red again. Not the usual pink they are during work days. Must be the beer."
"I'm not changing the subject!"
"Then answer my question!"
"It depends on what the stupid thing is!" she shot back, narrowing her eyes.
I tilted my head, then raised my hand, resting it near her shoulder—closing the distance just a little more.
"Why are you suddenly so curious about my love life?"
"Nothing," she said with a smirk. "I just got used to you oversharing. Now, you're all mysterious."
"Really?"
"Yup. Answer my question first, then I'll tell you mine."
"What question again?"
"If I did something stupid in front of you, would you get mad?"
"What does that have to do with love life?"
"Uh-uh, you're dodging again."
"It depends. Why, what are you planning?"
She was curious now. I took another sip of beer and stared at her without blinking, trying to read her.
Then, slowly, I leaned in closer.
"If you close your eyes, that's my cue," I whispered.
I stopped when I was just half an inch away from her. I stared into her eyes, then down to her nose… her lips. She was pressing them together now. I looked back into her eyes and caught her glancing at mine.
"She's blushing. Damn. Does that mean… she wants to kiss me too? I hope so. But what if she's just tipsy?"
"Are you drunk?"
She shook her head.
"You sure?"
"Sure. Are you drunk?"
"Nope. Beer barely affects me."
I leaned in just a little more, close enough to feel her breath.
"Shit."
The urge to kiss her burned inside me. But I held back—waiting for the sign.
Then, finally, she closed her eyes.
"This is it. Please don't slap me."
I gently brushed my lips against hers, then paused. Her face was now red as a tomato, eyes still shut. I leaned in and kissed her again, this time longer, deeper—waiting for her to respond.
She didn't.
So, I pulled back.
She opened her eyes slowly and stared at me.
"If you don't want me to kiss you, just tell me," I whispered, my lips close to her ear.
"Are you mad at me for kissing you?"
She shook her head again—this time even slower.
"Then… can I kiss you again?"
She didn't answer. But then she leaned forward—and kissed me.
This time, it was fire.
No more hesitation. We kissed like we'd been holding it in for years. I cupped her face, deepening the kiss, and felt her hands move toward my chest.
Minutes passed. We eventually pulled away, gasping for air.
"I like you," I blurted out.
She froze. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
"I'm not. I told you; beer doesn't hit me that fast."
"Then why say it now?"
"Because you asked. You were curious about my love life, remember? That's your answer. I didn't know how to say it earlier. But this beer gave me the guts."
"Maybe you're just confused. I mean… wasn't it Gabie you liked? Maybe you're just—"
"No."
I cut her off gently but firmly.
"No. Don't bring her into this. For the record, she's, my sister. The DNA test proved it. End of story. And no, I don't have feelings for her anymore. Capital N-O. Got it?"
She blinked at me, surprised.
"If you'll let me… I want to court you. I know you probably have a thousand questions. Ask them all. I'm not running away."