The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(78)

“You should go,” she said, proud the words came out even.

Growling her name, he got up and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. His arousal stood out proud and eager, and the sight was enough to make her sex ache with wanting.

She hugged her arms tight to her chest and turned away from him. “Please shut the door behind you.”

There was a long pause before a loud zipping sound broke the silence. She heard feet pad across the carpet, heard him lean down to put his shoes on, and then the door squeaked as it opened and shut.

When the engine of his car rumbled to life, she locked the door, went into the bathroom, and cranked on the hot water in the shower. It was her turn to wash him off and leave him unsatisfied. She refused to cry. If he didn’t love her, someone else would. She wasn’t going to settle for a one-sided love. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

Once she’d scrubbed her skin bright red, she climbed out of the shower, dressed, and checked her email. There it was. An email from Miss Q. A local community college was considering her. That sounded perfect. She gathered up her things and went to the school library, so she could fill out the application and send it out as soon as possible.

She couldn’t have Kh?i, but she didn’t need him. She was going to earn her way all by herself, and that was a billion times better.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE



He should have lied.

Khai mentally kicked himself on the way home. I, love, and you were just words, and it wasn’t like he’d never lied before. He’d told his aunt Dì Anh he liked the blended aloe vera juice she made. He didn’t. He wasn’t even sure it was edible. It was slimy and gave him cramps every time.

If he lied, he could have Esme for three years. He needed those three years. Desperately. He swore he wouldn’t keep her permanently. He wouldn’t do that to her. Three years only. He should practice saying the words, turn the car around, and go lie to her right away. It wasn’t too late.

“I.” He cleared his throat and tried for the second word, but it wouldn’t come out. After driving for another while, he gripped the gear shift tighter and said, “Love, dammit. Love, love, love.”

Fuck, his heart was pounding, and sweat stood out on his skin, and he felt absolutely absurd. It wasn’t going to work if he had to say the words five minutes apart.

He forced himself to say, “I love. I love. I love. I love.”

Alarms rang in his head. Lies. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and trickled down his neck, and blue sparks floated over his field of vision.

Okay, he had to stop or he’d get in a car accident. He’d practice later.

When he got home, however, Quan’s black Ducati was parked in Khai’s regular spot at the curb. And the garage was open.

What. The. Fuck.

He screeched into the driveway, cranked the emergency brake, and turned the key in the ignition before jumping out of his car.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he stomped toward the garage, where Quan stood next to Andy’s motorcycle. He’d tossed the tarp off and put the black helmet on the seat.

“It’s time you got rid of this cheap-ass bike,” Quan said, giving him a steady stare.

Khai fisted his hands as his muscles went rigid. “No.”

“You’re ready now.”

“No.”

“Okay, then ride it,” Quan said.

“No.” Khai stalked over to the bike and reached for the key in the ignition.

Before he could yank it out, Quan grabbed his wrist tightly and met his gaze head on. “I know why you’re pushing her away even though you love her.”

“I. Don’t. Love. Her,” he said through his teeth.

Quan’s jaw dropped. “How can you say that? You were there today. You were the one holding on to her like you were falling apart, and she was the one keeping you together. She was exactly what you needed. Because you love her, and she loves you back, you shit.”

He repeated himself, “I. Don’t. Lo—”

“You do,” Quan said. “But you’ve got weird shit going on in your head. Do you feel responsible for Andy or something? Guilty? You’re afraid of losing her, so you push her away? What is it? Figure it out today because she’s leaving in a week, and you’ll regret it forever.”

Khai shook his head as his brain hiccupped. That wasn’t right. That didn’t make sense. That wasn’t him.

And fuck, there was only one week left.

“Why won’t you ride the damned bike?” Quan asked.

Khai looked at the wall. “You’re 5.5 times more likely to get in a fatal accident on a motorcycle than a car.”

“That’s still only a 0.07 percent chance. We have a higher chance of dying from Mom’s cooking.”

Khai blinked. “You remember the exact number?”

Quan rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. “Yeah, I can read, and I remember shit. I’m actually kind of smart.”

“Riding a motorcycle isn’t smart.”

Quan aimed a pointed stare at him. “Sometimes the things people do and believe don’t make sense. I feel most alive when I might die. And you, you’re convinced you don’t feel, and the responsible thing is to avoid people.”

“That’s the way things are,” Khai said.