Page 61 of Promise to Break

I follow in Killian's wake and find him standing at the kitchen counter, scowling. "Do you like coffee?" he asks.

"I'm Latina. Some of us drink coffee from childhood."

"Fair enough." The coffee machine in front of him looks more expensive and sophisticated than the one we have in the cafeteria. It took me a while to learn how to use the fucking thing when I started working there. Usually, my manners would win out, and I would go to help him, but I can admit that I enjoy seeing this man in the kitchen.

Any other person would have first noticed the décor and the cozy spot my best friend created for these three deviants, but I can't for the life of me remove my eyes from his body as he performs such a domestic task.

He isn't in a rush, as if nothing in the whole world is more important to him than his coffee. Raven is like that as well. She's old school about her coffee, saying that it should always be enjoyed black, and she even has one of those things that she puts on the stove when she doesn't want to get a machine drink. For her, it's the scent of Italy.

I don't have those kinds of core memories, not even with my sister. My parents were both Latinos, but they were Americans first. I think the only reason my father spoke Spanish at home was so that others wouldn't understand his insults.

"How do you like your coffee?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Again," he says with a shake of his head. "How many times a day do you escape this world?"

"I don't do it willingly."

He just nods. "What were you thinking about?"

About how hot you are in the kitchen. "About how you and Raven hold on to your Italian heritage, though you're clearly as American as Serena and me," I say instead.

"Not precisely."

"What do you mean?" He pulls two coffee mugs from a cupboard without responding. "Avoidance much?"

"You avoid my questions as well," he accuses.

"No, I don't. I just can't understand you, and I don't like things or people I don't understand.

He chuckles. "So you're saying you don't like me?"

"I don't. You made my life hell for a long time. Your personal bullying wasn't good enough for you, either, and you made the whole school treat me like a pest. Granted, they probably would have done it with or without you, but still. God, I sound like a broken record."

"You do, but explain yourself."

Is he kidding me? "I'm clearly not a part of your world, and anyone can see that a mile away."

"Only because you insist on being different."

"No. It's because I am different." I raise my hands in the air, letting him get a good look at me. My skin burns under his attention as his gaze explores my body. My treacherous legs tremble and almost part for him.

"So, that's why you don't accept the money my brother and father send you every month?"

"No. I don't accept your family's money because I'm not a gold digger. I can provide for myself, and I don't need a lot." I really don't. I never saw the point of having the best clothes, for instance. To me, the funny shirts I find are much better than some outfits considered to be fashion statements. I can admit I like perfumes, but I can find some good ones in the Arabic market. Even Raven bought some there for herself, not saying a word when she paid only eleven bucks for the spray bottle. And I know for a fact she uses it as I remember the scent.

"But you've tasted the allure of money." And he thinks we're the same.

"And? I don't need the best of the best. It's all just stuff. Can money give me security? Sure, it can. Can money bring me happiness? Maybe to some point. After all, in this country, money is more valuable than life to most."

"Explain," he says again.

"Do you really want to talk politics with me? You're not interested in the lower class. You exploit it."

"I want to talk about everything with you," he replies, not denying my words. I can appreciate that. Killian is himself to a fault. He doesn't change to suit others or sugarcoat anything. I think that's why I've started to trust him. That's the problem with humankind: we have short memories when it comes to those who hurt us.

"Well, people like to speak about the right wing and the left wing, liberals against conservatives, but none of that really matters. At the end of the day, the small people get hurt by both sides."

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