The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

And now barriers in his mind fell, swamping him in confusion. The emptiness inside of him expanded. The missing grew until it overwhelmed him. Andy memories flooded his head, a childhood together, school together, and that last night when he’d waited and waited for Andy to show up. And he never did. Khai’s throat knotted, his lungs hurt, his skin flushed hot.

A small hand pressed on his jacket sleeve and traveled down the length of his arm to rest over his knuckles. He clasped Esme’s hand tight, and she gazed at him like she understood. But how could she possibly, when he didn’t?

“Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s go outside.”

He got up, distracting their celebrity speaker midsentence, and his mom aimed a disapproving scowl at him. Esme ignored everyone and tugged on his hand until he followed her out to the pagoda’s koi pond.

“Sit, Kh?i, you look bad.” She directed him to a stone bench that overlooked the water. He sat, and she brushed the hair from his clammy forehead with cool, soft fingers. “You need water.”

When she tried to pull away, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. “Don’t go.”

“Okay,” she said, and she urged him to rest his cheek against her chest. Her fingers smoothed through his hair and along his scruffy jaw.

He breathed her in. She smelled slightly different than she used to, like she’d changed laundry detergents, but he found the comforting feminine scent underneath it all. Her scent. The scent of woman and clean skin and Esme.

The ash of incense slowly faded from his senses, and he let everything slip away but her. The sick feeling receded. He could breathe again. People began to walk by, a few at first, but gradually more. Still, he didn’t let her go. He needed her touch, her smell, the steady beating of her heart, her.

“M?,” his mom said, making Esme stiffen against him. “Come help me with—oh, never mind. I’ll have Quân help me.” His mom’s footsteps quickly retreated.

Esme ran her fingers through his hair before asking, “We have eggrolls here. Want some?”

“Not hungry.” It would take something catastrophic to lure him away from her right now. He was like a wounded beast who’d found a respite from the pain of his injuries. “Unless you want them?”

She laughed a little. “No, I ate too many already.” She brushed her fingers across his scratchy cheek.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever have this again, and he let his eyelids fall shut as he soaked up her touch. She was better than sunlight and fresh air.

Time passed, he didn’t know how much, and his mom came back and said, “You two should go. Kh?i, take M? home for me, ha?”

“Cô, I can help clean up.” Esme pulled away from him, and he bit back a protest. He wanted to grab her arms and wrap her back around him like a scarf. “There are a lot of containers and—”

“No, no, no, it’s all taken care of. People are leaving now. Go home,” his mom said, waving dismissively at them. “You’ll drive her, ha, Kh?i?”

Esme’s mouth opened like she wanted to speak, and he quickly said, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Good, good.” His mom hurried away.

He got up from the bench and took a deep breath. His head pulsed, but he hadn’t felt this good in days. “Let’s go, then.”

“Are you better? We can wait,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m better.” A bit achy and bruised inside, but improved. Pretty much the way he felt when he’d been sick for days and his fever finally broke. Except he’d never spiked a fever.

As they walked to his car, he was intensely conscious of the respectful distance between them. She kept her fingers laced together, and the set of her shoulders was tense as she focused on the path ahead. Just two weeks ago, they would have held hands. Just two weeks ago, she’d been in love with him.

Was two weeks enough time to fall out of love with someone?

It made him a greedy bastard, but he wanted her love. He wanted to be her “one,” the recipient of her smiles, the reason for her smiles, her drug. She was his.

After all of this, it was clear he didn’t have the flu. He’d been going through withdrawal, and it was much worse than he’d originally imagined. He had to find a way to make her stay.

They piled into his car, and he started the ignition and rested his fingers on the wheel. “Where do you live now?”

She looked down at her tightly clasped hands. “The month-to-month place by the restaurant.”

His gut twisted, and an unpleasant sensation spilled over his skin. “That is not a very good part of town.”

“It’s good enough for me.”