Page 100 of Kiss the Villain

“That’s impressive. Maybe the reason he chose teaching law instead of practicing it is because he wants to help others achieve that,” he says with a smile.

“Practicing?” Mom asks.

“Yeah, Mom. I don’t do that much anymore, remember?” I keep my cool, because I should’ve seen the little prick’s tricks from a mile away. He’s been asking seemingly harmless questions but digging deeper every time.

I really underestimated his ability to charm people.

So I expertly change the subject, but he somehow returns to his line of questioning. It’s a seemingly endless tug-of-war until the end of dinner.

He jumps to help Mom, making her smile wide when he compliments her red scarf.

“That boy of yours better watch it and stop flirting with my wife,” Mom Jina mutters under her breath in Korean as she takes a sip of wine.

“He’s not a boy of mine, Mom,” I say in the same language, which makes Carson gawk at me before he focuses back on something Mom says.

“You want me to think he’s just a student?” She gives me a look that says,I was in the room when you were born, boy, don’t be trying to be a smart-ass.

“What else could he be?”

“A little boyfriend.”

“I’m not gay. You know that.”

“Gay or straight or bi, who cares? Feelings have no sexuality.”

I drop my glass on the table and try not to appear pissed off. “I absolutely have no feelings for him. The fuck, Mom? Aside from being a guy, he’s a kid. Like, over-eleven-years-younger-than-mekid.”

“He’s old enough, and feelings have no age limit.”

“I said. There arenofeelings.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I haven’t seen you this carefree in a long time, and you look at him differently. Even more fondly than you used to look at?—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Mom. Just don’t.”

“Are you scared of the sentence itself or what it means?” When I say nothing, she sighs, stands up, and hugs my head to her chest. “I don’t know what you’re doing or what you’re hoping to achieve, but maybe it’s time to let go, my boy.”

Ican’t.

Not now when I’m close to the finish line.

My eyes meet Carson’s, and he stares for a second, seeming mesmerized by the scene.

I already have everything going to plan, so why on earth does the idea of not having him at that finish line squeeze the fuck out of my chest?

16

GARETH

The low hum of conversation scatters around me as I stare at my phone.

I can’t help the small smile that tugs on my lips, and one of my friends—the fake ones—says to stop scrolling.

I’m not, but they can’t tell with the privacy screen.

They want to do some late afternoon group study in a local coffee shop, and I usually join them just to incapacitate them and make them feel like they can never be at my level. Without even saying anything. They still like my company, though, which isn’t a surprise—I’m the most interesting person I know.

Well, I don’t show all my interesting parts, but they’re still mesmerized by the image I project, which is a superpower in and of itself.

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