A rendezvous with unripe fruit

Another weekend. I had arranged to meet S that evening; he was bringing his girlfriend Q. In the afternoon, a new friend insisted on treating my colleagues and me to fish, which I couldn't refuse. We arrived at the restaurant at 5:30 PM, playing drinking games and eating fish with my colleagues. Around 6:30 PM, I texted S, arranging to meet at our usual spot at 7:30 PM. At 5:10 PM, I excused myself, saying an old classmate was visiting and I needed to make arrangements. I finished the rest of my drink and said goodbye to my colleagues.
It was the same place, the same small table by the window. There were three chairs at the table; I had arranged for Q to sit in the middle, with S and me on either side. A little while later, S arrived alone. We ordered some drinks and snacks. To show our sincerity, even though S repeatedly said they had already eaten and only needed something to drink, I still ordered a shrimp, some grilled dried beef, and a few other snacks. After ordering, S called Q and went out to personally invite her in. Q followed S in somewhat awkwardly, but instead of sitting in the middle, she sat opposite me, leaving the middle seat for S. Q wasn't the kind of stunning beauty who dazzled everyone, but she was very attractive; the more you looked at her, the more beautiful she became. If Fan Bingbing were a perfect 100, Q would be at least an 85. She was petite and slender, with a delicate and endearing appearance. Her face was pretty, slightly shy, and she spoke softly, her eyes exuding the air of an intellectual beauty. We chatted and drank, and it was clear that Q knew what was going on, but she hadn't explicitly agreed. S kept excitedly and nervously trying to persuade her: "Isn't he handsome? He's a very nice person. He's experienced; it'll be very comfortable..." and so on. Seeing that Q didn't seem to dislike me, I leaned towards her and whispered, "Don't worry, let's both pamper you; it'll give you a different kind of pleasure."
Q lowered her head slightly and said, "No." Although it wasn't a strong objection, it seemed quite firm. I felt things weren't looking good tonight, and wanted to give you all some space to talk, so I said, "I'm going to the restroom."
When I came back, before I even sat down, S said to me, "Brother, you go get a room first, we'll come back later." I was taken aback. Things were progressing so quickly? I wanted to ask Q to confirm, but Q just kept his head down, not looking at me or saying anything. S repeated, "Brother, you go first."
What else was there to say? I quickly went to the counter, paid the bill, and drove to the most luxurious hotel in town—this was the one S and I had agreed on beforehand, a government-designated hotel for receptions, where safety was more assured.

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A rendezvous with unripe fruit

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