Jiang Qingli was toying with his ear feathers, asking casually, "Kiss where?"
Que Feiling's eyes lit up. "I get to choose?"
Jiang Qingli realized something was amiss. She had barely paused before he was already kneeling beside her legs, head bowed.
...
It was a cold winter day.
Yet the stuffy interior of the car felt as hot as a summer afternoon.
Jiang Qingli's vision was blurry. Her hand fumbled for a hold, accidentally pressing a button and turning on the stereo.
The fast-paced drumbeat made her jump.
But Que Feiling wasn't the least bit affected. He lifted his head and grinned at her. "This is a song by my favorite band! I love every single track on their new album! I was even going to play it for you. The lyrics are really profound!"
That only seemed to spur him on.
By the time the song ended, Jiang Qingli was leaning weakly against the seat, clutching a throw pillow. Her head was still spinning.
