The Bride Test (31 page)

Cameras flashed now and then, and videographers filmed the speech as the crowd listened in rapt attention. His aunt had invited a celebrity monk from Southern California to the pagoda, and it was a big honor to have him speak about Andy. Khai, however, wished he’d stop. Every time he heard his cousin’s name, this suffocating sensation worsened.

It was like Sara’s wedding, except his eyes were burning and his skin was tingling, like blood was rushing back after circulation had been cut off. What the fuck was happening?

The metal bowl rang again, and countless off-key voices sang incomprehensible words. Incense, chanting, somber faces, Andy. He’d experienced all of this before, but it was different this time. He’d had time to absorb and process. A lot of time.

And now barriers in his mind fell, swamping him in confusion. The emptiness inside of him expanded. The
missing
grew until it overwhelmed him. Andy memories flooded his head, a childhood together, school together, and that last night when he’d waited and waited for Andy to show up. And he never did. Khai’s throat knotted, his lungs hurt, his skin flushed hot.

A small hand pressed on his jacket sleeve and traveled down the length of his arm to rest over his knuckles. He clasped Esme’s hand tight, and she gazed at him like she understood. But how could she possibly, when he didn’t?

“Come on,” she whispered. “Let’s go outside.”

He got up, distracting their celebrity speaker midsentence, and his mom aimed a disapproving scowl at him. Esme ignored everyone and tugged on his hand until he followed her out to the pagoda’s koi pond.

“Sit, Khải, you look bad.” She directed him to a stone bench that overlooked the water. He sat, and she brushed the hair from his clammy forehead with cool, soft fingers. “You need water.”

When she tried to pull away, he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. “Don’t go.”

“Okay,” she said, and she urged him to rest his cheek against her chest. Her fingers smoothed through his hair and along his scruffy jaw.

He breathed her in. She smelled slightly different than she used to, like she’d changed laundry detergents, but he found the comforting feminine scent underneath it all.
Her
scent. The scent of woman and clean skin and Esme.

The ash of incense slowly faded from his senses, and he let everything slip away but her. The sick feeling receded. He could breathe again. People began to walk by, a few at first, but gradually more. Still, he didn’t let her go. He needed her touch, her smell, the steady beating of her heart,
her
.

“Mỹ,” his mom said, making Esme stiffen against him. “Come help me with— oh, never mind. I’ll have Quân help me.” His mom’s footsteps quickly retreated.

Esme ran her fingers through his hair before asking, “We have eggrolls here. Want some?”

“Not hungry.” It would take something catastrophic to lure him away from her right now. He was like a wounded beast who’d found a respite from the pain of his injuries. “Unless you want them?”

She laughed a little. “No, I ate too many already.” She brushed her fingers across his scratchy cheek.

He hadn’t thought he’d ever have this again, and he let his eyelids fall shut as he soaked up her touch. She was better than sunlight and fresh air.

Time passed, he didn’t know how much, and his mom came back and said, “You two should go. Khải, take Mỹ home for me, ha?”

“Cô, I can help clean up.” Esme pulled away from him, and he bit back a protest. He wanted to grab her arms and wrap her back around him like a scarf. “There are a lot of containers and—”

“No, no, no, it’s all taken care of. People are leaving now. Go home,” his mom said, waving dismissively at them. “You’ll drive her, ha, Khải?”

Esme’s mouth opened like she wanted to speak, and he quickly said, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Good, good.” His mom hurried away.

He got up from the bench and took a deep breath. His head pulsed, but he hadn’t felt this good in days. “Let’s go, then.”

“Are you better? We can wait,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m better.” A bit achy and bruised inside, but improved.

Pretty much the way he felt when he’d been sick for days and his fever finally broke. Except he’d never spiked a fever.

As they walked to his car, he was intensely conscious of the respectful distance between them. She kept her fingers laced together, and the set of her shoulders was tense as she focused on the path ahead. Just two weeks ago, they would have held hands. Just two weeks ago, she’d been in love with him.

Was two weeks enough time to fall out of love with someone?

It made him a greedy bastard, but he wanted her love. He wanted to be her “one,” the recipient of her smiles, the
reason
for her smiles, her drug. She was his.

After all of this, it was clear he didn’t have the flu. He’d been going through withdrawal, and it was much worse than he’d originally imagined. He had to find a way to make her stay.

They piled into his car, and he started the ignition and rested his fingers on the wheel. “Where do you live now?”

She looked down at her tightly clasped hands. “The month-to-month place by the restaurant.”

His gut twisted, and an unpleasant sensation spilled over his skin. “That is not a very good part of town.”

“It’s good enough for me.”

No, it wasn’t.

Gritting his teeth, he left the pagoda in San Jose and headed to her place via the 880N. He sped through flat territory with drab office buildings and storage lots and pulled up to a small gray apartment complex tucked behind a beat-up strip mall. On the way from his car to her apartment, his shoes crunched over shattered glass from a broken beer bottle, and they passed a stray shopping cart lying on its side.

He hit the lock button on his key fob just in case and scanned the area for bored kids who might be interested in keying his car or slashing his tires. None, thankfully. His house wasn’t great, but at least he didn’t have to worry about vandalism.

When she stopped in front of a door on the ground floor of the building, his displeasure grew.
Not safe.
It would be so easy for someone to break in. She had a lot of character, but that wasn’t enough to protect her against someone bigger, stronger, and possibly armed. His hands started sweating at the idea of some asshole breaking through one of her windows and coming inside to—

“Do you want to come in?” she asked, peering over her shoulder at him from just inside her open doorway. “You don’t look good.”

At his silent nod, she opened the door wide and let him in. It was a plain studio apartment with brown carpet, a sleeping bag on the floor with a pile of textbooks next to it, a mostly empty closet, and a teeny linoleum kitchen.

She’d left him for this.

He hated everything about it.

“Thirsty?” Without waiting for him to reply, she hurried to the kitchen, filled a disposable cup from the tap, and brought it to him.

He drank down the water, grimacing at the hard taste, and handed the cup back to her. She stepped toward the kitchen, clearly planning to put it away or in the garbage or something, and he took advantage of the opportunity to gather her in his arms, pressing her close, her chest to his. She gasped, and the plastic cup fell forgotten to the ugly carpet.

“Marry me,” he said.

She drew in a sharp breath, and her green eyes searched his face. “Why?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know how to say this. It felt too big. At the same time, it didn’t feel like enough. “I’ve
missed
you.” So badly his body had broken down. “I need to know you’re safe and happy. And I want you close. With me.”

Her hands balled up against his chest like they did when she was fighting against touching him, and he covered them with his and worked on the fingers until they unfurled.

“Come back with me and marry me.”

“ Khải ...” She bit her lip.

Acting on instinct and desperation, he angled her head back and kissed her. She softened against him like always and pressed herself close, and his body hardened in a euphoric rush. The wild idea crossed his mind that if he kissed and touched her right, he might muddle her senses to the point where she said yes by accident. And
hell yes
, he would hold her to it.

“Marry me.”

K
hải’s kiss. Khải’s touch. His hands sweeping over her body, demanding, possessive, making her melt. She’d tried to stay away from him, but his intense sorrow during the death anniversary had worried her. She hadn’t known how to be there for him, but
this
, she knew exactly what to do with this. He needed, so she gave.

He said it again. “Marry me.”

It was probably wishful thinking, but she heard
I love you
in his words. Each proposal seduced her more. The cool fabric of her sleeping bag met her back, and he covered her with his body. A rough palm slid under her dress, up her thigh, and cupped her between her legs. Knowing fingers stroked her, and she drenched the fabric of her underwear.

“Marry me,” he whispered against her lips.

“ Khải—”

Before she could finish speaking, he pushed her dress up above her breasts and feasted on her, making sharp pleasure shock from her nipples straight between her thighs. His hand slipped into her panties, and slick fingertips rubbed her
there
, taking away her ability to think. What had she been about to say? She couldn’t remember. She was lost in desire— hers and his. He’d never been this out of control, this urgent.

He kissed his way down her body with hungry licks and small nips and bites, and goose bumps shivered over her with each prickle of his beard on her rib cage, her tummy, her hips. That was new, but she liked it. He yanked her panties off impatiently and fastened his mouth on her sex, and she clenched hard and tight.

His repeated proposal echoed in her head. He’d turned to her in his time of need and let her in. He loved her, she
felt
it, and the knowledge propelled her straight over the edge with a startled moan.

He glanced up at her in surprise. “I only licked you once.”

“
Khải
,” she whined, threading her fingers into his hair and directing him back where she wanted him. He couldn’t stop, not yet. If he stopped, she’ d—

A wide grin stretched over his lips before he sucked her back into his mouth, and the convulsions tore through her. She rocked against his face, over and over until the aftershocks spaced out, and then he was gathering her close and pressing kisses to her temple, her cheek, her jaw.

“Marry me,” he said in a gravelly voice.

She heard it again.
I love you.

He sought out her lips and stroked his tongue deep as he gripped her hips and pressed her against his hardness. “Say yes.”

Her body softened in readiness. Yes, she wanted him. Yes, she loved him. Yes, she wanted to marry him. She cupped the generous bulge between his legs and demanded, “Say you love me.” She had to hear him say it. She deserved to hear it.

He ground his hips against her hand as a hoarse sound escaped his throat.

She eased his zipper open, captured his firm length in her palm, and kissed his swollen mouth softly. “Say it one time. Just one time.” Once would be enough.

His lungs gusted as he stared deep into her eyes. “I missed you.”

She stroked him, running her hand to the base of his sex and back to the tip. “And?”

He swallowed loudly. “I want you.”

She wrapped a leg around his hip and touched the head of his sex to her wet folds.
This
would get him to say it. “And?”

He shuddered, and his eyes went dark. “I need you.”

“And?” Her throat swelled as disappointment threatened.
Say it, just say it.
Why wouldn’t he say it?

Regret swept across his face, and she jerked away from him and sat up, pulling her dress down so it covered her nakedness. He hadn’t let her in, after all. She’d been making love to him again when it was just sex to him, and it made her feel horrible and cheap and small. She wanted to run away, but this was
her
apartment. She’d paid for this place with her own hard-earned money.

“You should go,” she said, proud the words came out even.

Growling her name, he got up and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. His arousal stood out proud and eager, and the sight was enough to make her sex ache with wanting.

She hugged her arms tight to her chest and turned away from him. “Please shut the door behind you.”

There was a long pause before a loud zipping sound broke the silence. She heard feet pad across the carpet, heard him lean down to put his shoes on, and then the door squeaked as it opened and shut.

When the engine of his car rumbled to life, she locked the door, went into the bathroom, and cranked on the hot water in the shower. It was her turn to wash him off and leave him unsatisfied. She refused to cry. If he didn’t love her, someone else would. She wasn’t going to settle for a one-sided love. Not in this lifetime. Not ever.

Once she’d scrubbed her skin bright red, she climbed out of the shower, dressed, and checked her email. There it was. An email from Miss Q. A local community college was considering her. That sounded perfect. She gathered up her things and went to the school library, so she could fill out the application and send it out as soon as possible.

She couldn’t have Khải, but she didn’t need him. She was going to earn her way all by herself, and that was a billion times better.