Page 83 of Luxe

"I wouldn't know. My mother only had sons and none of us speak to her now."

She frowns and scrutinizes me, to see if I’m being flippant, probably. But I’m not. It’s one of the aspects of my life I've made peace with. "Should I be sad about that? No matter what happened with me and my mom, we could still always talk."

"Well, I’m pretty sure that, considering most of us have a drinking problem because of her, it’s better for our livers that we don’t talk to her too often. Kingsley definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his drinks cart, and Damien too. I thought he was going to die from alcohol poisoning when Mom decided to grace him with her presence a few months ago."

Kiara gasps. "Oh, that's terrible. Why did she come back?"

"She was about to get married to her fourth husband. She needed someone to walk her down the aisle. And Damien was always her favorite. He looks just like her. Beautiful in a sad kind of way, although his sadness is probably from the way she's always fucked with his head.”

"Well, my problem with my mother is nothing I can do anything about. And I can’t really talk to anyone else about it."

I gently touch her cheek. "What about to me? Despite appearances, I'm actually a good listener as well as a good talker."

She takes another drink, catching the last of the drops on her tongue.

"If there was anyone I would talk to about it, it would be you. I promise. And maybe one day. Just... not today."

Two lines of goosebumps line her arms and so I try to envelope her with my arms and legs, my face burying in her neck, breathing her in.

"You smell like everything beautiful."

She lets out the tiniest little laugh. "You have quite the silver tongue.” She pauses, like she’s not sure if she should say the next thing. “Is it because you've had a lot of practice?” she teases, but not without a tinge of wonder

I grimace. "There is no way to answer that without you hating me. But what if I told you I haven't had that much practice in the last five years?"

She looks skeptical.

"You really need to believe what I mean when I say I pined. Okay, sure, I flirted, had a few flings, and when I mean a few, I mean... very few compared to what I was like before.”

“I didn't see you at the funeral,” she asks, changing the subject. “Were you there?”

"Yes. Of course. I came a bit early and made sure your Dad and Nathan saw me. Then I hung around the back. It was a very crowded service; it wouldn't have been hard to miss me. Especially when I was trying hard to not be seen by you."

“You didn’t have to do that.”

"Yes, I did. The last person you needed to see when farewelling your mother was the face of, and I quote based on what Nathan told me ‘The dumbest man to ever taint English soil who embodies every stereotype you've ever heard about the British and their teeth.’” I can barely get through it all before I'm laughing so hard it shakes us both.

She doesn’t find the reminder of her insult that funny though. "You deserved it! I don't have any idea why I had a crush on you for so long."

"You mean since London."

Her eyes shift side to side and then she nods. It's not entirely convincing.

"Well, well, well, little Kiki Yin, did you have a crush on me before that?"

She shoves me so hard, I almost tip over completely onto my side. "What? No!! You were just my stinky brother's friend. Ugh, shut up."

Comprehension dawns. "Oh, Kiara. You liked me from before London.”

Her face pales, but she doesn’t react, waiting for me to talk myself into a hole.

“Your family wasn't even living there anymore,” I continue, “and you were studying in the U.S. Why were you even in England?” I stare at her. “Kiara, were you in London to see me?"

This time she holds her gaze facing straight ahead, a twitch in her jaw. I’ve touched a nerve.

"Hey," I say softly, and hug her around the shoulders, kissing her neck. "Did you really come to London to see me?"

"I... I missed London. And my friends. So, I didn't not come to London for you."

---