Poison's Kiss (Poison's Kiss #1)(23)

“Thank you,” I say. “I’m sorry for being so clumsy.” I can feel Mani glaring at me.

“No problem,” Deven says. He keeps eating and chatting—asking Mani about what he’s been reading, peppering me with questions about my childhood that I have to answer with half-truths. I feel like I’m going to explode with tension and I want to pick up his drink and force it down his throat.

“Do you want more?” Deven asks.

I look up, startled. “What?”

“You’re staring at my drink. You can have the rest if you’d like.”

“No,” I say too emphatically. Deven raises an eyebrow. “Thanks,” I say, “but I think one is all I need. It’s awfully sweet.”

“You just have to build up a tolerance,” he says, and I wince at the wording. He tilts his head. “You know, for the sugar.” I laugh, but it comes out tight and forced. Of course I knew what he meant, but building up a tolerance is exactly what I’m trying to do for him—except for poison and not sweets. When he finally picks up his Hot Sweetie and drains it in one swallow, I can breathe again.

“So what have you been up to today?” I ask. Deven smiles and I realize it’s the first question I’ve asked, the first time I’ve engaged in the conversation at all, past distracted comments and brief answers.

“Just work,” he says. An image of Iyla kissing him pops into my mind.

“Work? That’s it?”

He plunks his cup down. “Yup. That’s why I was so happy to see you and Mani. I needed a break.” My stomach feels tight. Why is he lying to me? Why not just tell me that he spent the morning with his beautiful girlfriend? Who, no doubt, seemed astonished to see him, since she thought he’d be dead. But then again, why would he tell me anything? It’s not like he owes me an explanation—we’re just friends, if even that. He probably invited us to lunch only because he doesn’t think I take care of Mani very well. My eyes burn and I’m furious with myself for caring. He’s just a boy. A nice one, the kind who will invite you to lunch and hurry to replace your drink if you spill it. The kind you don’t want to kill. But also the kind who is in love with your only friend and doesn’t trust you enough to tell you about her.

Mani nudges my foot under the table and I realize I’ve been staring at Deven without saying anything for an inappropriate amount of time. I try to wipe my face clean of expression.

“I’m glad we could provide some relief from your busy day,” I say.

Deven reaches for my hand across the table and squeezes my fingers. “We should do it again sometime.” He holds my gaze and I don’t look away.

“We should,” Mani says, and both of us laugh at his enthusiasm. Deven walks us to the door, and my emotions are all tangled up. Part of me is upset that he didn’t tell me about Iyla, and the other part never wants to leave his side. Maybe those are the same thing. And then there’s the worry about the poison. Did I give him too much? Too little? Will it work?

“Thank you for lunch,” I say once we step outside.

Deven bites the inside of his cheek and wrinkles up his forehead. “Are you sure? You didn’t eat much.”

“She never eats,” Mani supplies.

Deven glances sidelong at me and I can tell he’s suppressing a smile. “Is that right?” he asks Mani, who nods solemnly. “Well, I’ll have to see what I can do to change that.” Despite myself, my face melts into a smile. No one—except for Japa—has ever been so kind to us or treated us with so much respect. Mani is flush with pride. I look up to see Deven watching me with a curious expression.

“What?” I ask.

“I’ve never seen you smile before.”

“That’s not true,” I say. Could that be true? Do I smile so infrequently?

He shakes his head. “Never. Not like that. Not a real smile.”

“Oh, so you’ve seen some of my fake smiles?”

He shrugs. “A few. Mostly when you’ve been trying to get rid of me.” Am I so transparent? Or have I just underestimated how much Deven notices? The thought both thrills and terrifies me.

“Maybe we can work on increasing the smiling along with the food?” he says. I can’t help it; I smile again, and he smiles back and we just stare at each other for a moment. Then he turns to Mani and pats him on the back. “See you soon,” he says. Before I know what’s happening, he folds me in an embrace and kisses my cheek. It’s not just a quick graze either; his lips linger there, soft and warm. Panic races across my skin. I didn’t have time to turn, to position him safely. He pulls away and my fingers find the place where his lips rested. The spot is still warm and I can feel the contours of my cheekbone underneath my fingertips, so it’s far enough from my lips. I sigh in relief and then clap my hand over my mouth. That sigh could so easily be misinterpreted. The way Deven is grinning, I see it probably has been.

“Goodbye, Deven,” I say, carefully avoiding looking directly at his face.

“Bye, Marinda.”

I take Mani’s hand and we walk away. I resist the urge to look back as long as I can, and when I finally do, Deven has disappeared.





When Mani and I get back to the flat, Iyla opens the door. My stomach plummets. What is she doing here? She must know that I’ve been with Deven. She must have followed me or…and then I focus on her face. A fresh bruise blooms across her jaw—bright red bleeding into purple.