The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

“Why are you acting this way?” He wanted her back to the way she used to be.

She tipped her chin up, looking mutinously stubborn, and the perverse desire to kiss her rose. He almost acted on it, but she looked likely to bite him. Except then her eyes went glassy and her breaths quickened. “I do what I want.”

“Are you hungry? I can—”

“No, thanks.” She shut the door in his face.

He stared at the door for a good minute. What in the world was going on? Had he . . . done something wrong? He couldn’t think of anything. There’d been the sex, which was amazing, and afterward, he’d showered right away so he didn’t smear his sweat all over her. That had taken monumental effort since he’d felt like someone had shot him with a hippopotamus tranquilizer. What was it? He wished he understood people.

But he knew someone who did. Because he was an ideal human.

He grabbed his keys and let himself out of the house. It took forty-five minutes to get to Quan’s neighborhood in San Francisco, and then fifteen more minutes to find street parking. When he finally hit the buzzer outside the condominium building, there was no answer.

He tried it again.

Still nothing.

One more time with feeling.

More nothing.

Grumbling to himself, he got his phone out of his pocket and dialed his brother.

Quan picked up on the first ring. “Yo, wassup?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

“I’m outside your building.”

“Whoa, what? Is something wrong? Wait, I’m coming. Hold on a second.” A softer female voice murmured something in the background, and he said, “It’s my brother. Be right back.” The call disconnected.

Khai kicked at a spot of dirt on the concrete as he waited. It sounded like he wasn’t the only one who’d had an eventful night. He didn’t think Quan’s date would be ignoring and avoiding him all day, though.

The front door swung open, revealing Quan in nothing but tattoos and an old pair of jeans. “Hey.”

For a moment, Khai was so distracted by Quan’s tattoos he forgot why he’d come. “When did you get those new ones? Do you have plans for that bare patch?”

Quan scratched at the swirling calligraphy on his right side that melded with the Japanese-style art on his left. “Gonna leave it blank. Too much of a good thing and all.”

“You don’t think you already crossed the ‘too much’ line?” Khai asked.

“Shut up, you. My ass is still bare. Come on in.”

Khai entered the building, and they rode up the elevator together.

“So what is it?” Quan asked as the numbers on the digital display climbed. “You never visit me.”

Khai stretched his fingers out again before relaxing them. “I had sex last night. With Esme.”

A giant smirk stretched over his brother’s mouth. “Your first time, right?”

Khai nodded curtly. He’d never told anyone he was a virgin, but of course Quan, with all his excellent people intuition, had known.

“Good job, little brother.” Quan held a fist out, and Khai bumped it with his own out of pure habit. Then he felt ridiculous.

“You don’t mind? I know you said you were interested, and I—”

“No, I don’t mind,” Quan said with a small laugh. “You’re my brother. I’ll always pick you first. Plus, I like her for you. I’m glad you went for it.”

Khai filled his chest with a big breath, relieved he hadn’t ruined anything with his brother through his indecisiveness but also strangely proud Esme had chosen him over Quan. If Khai were a woman, he’d pick Quan, no competition. “She’s acting weird now, and I don’t know what to do.”