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CHAPTER TWENTY

The month that followed was the best month of Esme’s life. Now that she’d gotten the hang of things, waitressing suited her just fine, and she saved up enough to either fix her grandma’s house or buy something better. Her grades in school stayed high. She couldn’t become Esme in Accounting, but she was getting close.

Best of all, her time with Kh?i was like a dream. Things had become easy between them. She knew to turn the exhaust hood on when she cooked with fish sauce, and he’d learned to kiss her every morning when she left for work and hug her every evening when he picked her up from class. He still didn’t speak much unless she asked him specific questions, but that was fine. She talked enough for both of them, and he was a good listener. She’d made an offhand comment about wanting to ride on a sailboat someday, and he’d surprised her today by taking her to Sunday brunch on the water in the San Francisco Bay. It had been lovely. Their first date.

Now they were settling onto the couch at his place. She had studying to do, and his work was seemingly endless. She’d highlighted a few textbook pages before she made the poor choice of glancing up at him. He was wearing his reading glasses again, dressed in formfitting black as usual, and brooding over his computer screen like he was masterminding an elite sniper attack. A peek at his computer, however, revealed spreadsheets instead of battle blueprints.

It was sexy anyway. And she couldn’t prevent herself from setting her homework aside and cozying up next to him. He didn’t seem to notice at first, and she kissed the strong cords in his neck and his jaw.

“Kh?i,” she whispered. “How about—”

His lips met hers, and the rest of the words didn’t matter. Like always, he kissed her with his entire attention and intensity, and it wasn’t long before she displaced his computer and took up the space on his lap—her plan from the beginning.

They bumped his glasses askew, and he grabbed them like he was going to remove them.

“No,” she said quickly and repositioned them for him. “I like them.”

He sent her a puzzled look. “My reading glasses? You want me to wear them . . . now?”

She bit her lip as she grinned. “They’re sexy.”

“Reading glasses?” He shook his head as he chuckled, but he kept them on. “What else is sexy?”

“You. Naked.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled upward, but then her phone rang and buzzed.

It was the cute little song that played every time she got a call from her mom’s cell phone. She’d chosen it because she’d thought Jade would like it.

Kh?i reached for her purse, which she’d left on his side of the couch, and thoughts fired through her mind faster than lightning: He knew where she kept her phone. He was going to get it for her. He was going to see the picture of Esme and Jade on the screen. He was going to know.

She dove for her bag, but instead of intercepting him, she toppled off the couch and almost cracked her head on the coffee table.

“Are you okay?” Strong hands pulled her upright and smoothed over her head just to make sure.

Her phone continued ringing. “I’m fine. I just—the caller—maybe it’s Phil Jackson.” She winced. It wasn’t Phil Jackson.

Kh?i picked up her bag, and when he started to unzip the outer pocket where she kept her phone, she snatched it out of his hands.

“I’ll get it,” she said in an overly bright voice, but when she finally retrieved the phone, it had stopped ringing.

Guilt niggled at her belly. Judging by the number of rings, it had probably been Jade.

“Are you going to call back?” Kh?i asked, looking at her phone curiously.

She bit her lip. “Um, maybe later. I—”

The phone starting ringing again. Same ringtone. Her mouth went dry, and sweat beaded upon her brow. She clutched the phone to her chest.

She should tell him. Right now. Things were going well. Maybe he’d take the news in stride.

“It’s my mom,” she heard herself say through the pounding of her heart.

“You should answer. I don’t mind.”

But did he?

What if it was too soon? What if she ruined everything?

“I’ll talk in the other room, so you can work,” she said, losing all courage at the last second. She ran to her room, shut the door, and hurried to answer the phone. “Hello?”


Tags: Helen Hoang The Kiss Quotient Romance