Page 116 of Luxe

"You okay?”

“Never better.” And I mean it.

thirty-one

Kylian

Nathan, Kiara, and I stay up well into the night talking and playing cards. I ruled poker out, I was still stinging from the lost Heracles deal, I had no intention of losing my wallet to the Yin siblings, one who kept her cool at the poker table better than anyone I've seen, and the other with a tell that only his sister knew.

We play a range of words games, board games and the night ends after an angry game of gin rummy has Nathan demanding a recount.

"There's nothing to count, Nathan! You lost. You have to put all the games away now. Those are the rules," his sister taunts him.

Countless glasses of cognac, Japanese whiskey and then a dicey bottle of homemade wine had us talking with few inhibitions and zero volume control on our voices.

It reminded me of the games nights we used to have before my mother decided she wanted to beat Elizabeth Taylor’s record for number of husbands and my dad moved to Australia to get away from the memories of their disastrous marriage of convenience. Nights filled with laughter, trash talk and taking turns splitting into teams to beat the others. It’s the reason I kept the games table, because it carries with it the echoes of unadulterated joy before the divorce.

"You two play games like your lives depend on winning," I tease them, as even now, they're bickering about who really won the most games.

They both turn to me, offended. "Um, that's because our lives so depend on winning. I thought you had brothers!"

Memories of similar fights and Matthias being sent to bed sulking, while Damien and I wrestle for the title of Game Night Winner makes me laugh out loud. "Oh, trust me, I do. But you two fight dirty. I'm pretty sure I have a dent on my forehead from when Kiara threw that Scrabble tile holder at my head."

"I was just handing you the best one. You’re welcome!" she says through laughs.

The best thing about the night is how relaxed Kiara is. She's shown in many different ways that she’s comfortable at my place but this is her family home. Whenever I go back to our home in London, it feels like I never left. All night she has been the most animated I’ve ever seen her, the same excited woman playing games with Nathan like she is at my apartment talking about her work.

I bite back the urge to say "I already gave you your thanks this morning in the shower,” but instead just shrug and give her a wink when Nathan has his back turned.

"You two have had too much to drink. Kylian, I've hidden your car keys, man," Nathan says patting me on the back. "And I did it back before we drank the sludge that is Dad's homemade wine so I couldn't tell you where they are even if you asked. I've had the housekeeper set up the guest room next to mine for you."

I'm not sure why he feels like he has to tell me where the room is, that's basically been my bedroom since the Yins moved here. "Thanks, man. You’re such a good host."

He stumbles out the door and Kiara and I wait, holding our breaths. After a minute, she skips over and closes the door to the library and then jumps into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me.

"I've been waiting to do that to you all night. We haven't been alone even once since before."

"Before was very nice. I like all the befores with you. And I cannot wait to have all the afters with you,” I mutter, pulling her head down to kiss me.

There's a noise outside the room and she jumps to her feet and we stare at the door, but no one comes through it.

Kiara wipes her forehead. "Okay, too close. Stop being too handsome, winking at me and making me want to kiss you."

"You can't talk! You think I don't know you picked to sit in that seat all night so I look up your dress?"

The way she giggles tugs at my heart, a reminder at all the laughs we had tonight. With my best friend and his sister.

"I'm going up to bed. Do you need anything?" she asks.

"I'm good, Kiki. Sweet dreams, I’ll see you in the morning.”

The sweet smile she gives me ensures that all my dreams are of her.

We all emerge from our rooms around 7:30 in the morning, freshly showered and no longer slurring or stumbling around.

The smell of food greets us in the hall way and I race Nathan down stairs to the kitchen.

There's a full spread with three types of juice, cereals, fruit and our own personal chef in the form of Dennis Yin in an apron standing at the grill with a bowl of eggs in front of him.

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