Page 38 of Friends Don't Kiss

I open my mouth to answer, but Kiara beats me to it. “He’s done a bunch of Mini Coops.”

The Mini Coop. That would be a cool car for Kiara. And since she’s noticed them, that probably means she likes them. I make a mental note to be on the lookout for a good secondhand Mini I could entirely refurbish for her. In addition to something appropriate for her business.

“That’s interesting,” her mother is saying. “Kiara’s father was a big fan of the Lancia Stratos. He used to be a racer too. Might still be.”

Kiara stiffens. “Goes to prove, not all racers are dickheads.”

thirteen

Kiara

There.Thatshouldshuther up. What was she thinking, drawing a comparison between my father and Colton? They’re nothing alike.

Nothing.

Mom takes a deep breath and says, “I really don’t understand why you need to be a pastry chef. I mean, you work all sorts of crazy hours. I’m surprised to see you keeping a man. Be careful not to go and losethat.”

The words slice through me. She has a point. Who wants to date someone who’s always working when it’s time for everyone else to have fun? She can’t know what Colton and I have is fake, but the words still sting. So many echoes to the past. To my faults. To what I supposedly broke.

Colton’s protective touch lands lightly between my shoulders, its warmth instantly relaxing me. “You honor me, Mrs. Smith.”

Mom tightens her lips. This is not the answer she expected.

“Every day with Kiara is a blessing,” Colton adds, leaning to drop a feather kiss on my temple, where it burns straight down to my soul. “I don’t take any for granted.”

Mom clears her throat. “What I meant to say was, the line of work she chose… it’s not conducive to a stable relationship.”

I open my mouth to answer, but Colton gives me a gentle squeeze on the nape, effectively shutting me up, all while saying, “I hear you, Mrs. Smith. I do.” His hand creeps up into my hair as he adds, “Lucky for my girl, I’m fine with her crazy hours. I’m fine with all her crazy.”

Eloise gasps, suddenly catching onto the conversation. “Are you going to propose?”

His breath catches and he looks at me weirdly.He can’t be serious. Come. On.He gives another squeeze, like he’s talking to me with his fingers, tenderly.

“Now, Eloise, this is Maya and David’s day. I would hate to steal the show. Come on, babe, this is our song,” he adds, taking me to the dance floor.

One arm wraps around my waist, drawing me in, while his other hand captures mine and presses it to his heart. We sway to the music, his chin caressing my temple. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says.

“Thank you,” is all I can answer. If I look up at him now, I might add something stupid likeI love you, so I keep my head down and lay my forehead against his chest.

“Kiara, look at me,” he rumbles.

I tuck tighter into his embrace.

“Please,” he adds.

I look up, his gaze on me setting off the wildest fire. I never thought I could feel something this strong.

His eyes drop to my mouth. “I’d kiss you right now, but with the way I want to do it, we might create a commotion.”

I shut my eyes. “That’s the alcohol talking,” I say and dip my head back down into the comfort of his chest.

“Right. You keep telling yourself that, Sweetness.”

“Don’t,” I answer, my voice harsher than I want it to be. I’m uptight, and angry, and I’m not dealing well with Colton’s assault of gentleness.

Mom’s barely veiled attacks brought back so many feelings, it’s like she low-key triggered some PTSD.Life isn’t a bed of roses. You have to make concessions.You had to go and break everything we had.And the best one:If only you didn’t read so much into things.

I shut my eyes and dismiss the thoughts. I don’t regret being who I was. Who I am. And what I did and said: the truth.

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