3. Kiara
three
Kiara
H ow does he remember Grams’ name? That’s what my brain is hung up on. Better that than thinking about what he’s doing right now. While Grams inhales the flower and grabs a vase, and Mom watches with pursed lips but curiosity, he wraps me under his arm and looks at me, then drops a kiss on my temple. “You okay, Sweetness?”
But my eyes are narrowing on the next person to enter the kitchen. David . My pulse quickens. Not from seeing him.
From the fact that no one thought to warn me he’d be here.
He was my boyfriend in high school. Or so I thought, until I caught him with his tongue down my twin’s throat. It’s been a long time, but the memory of the double betrayal took a while to wash away.
I’m surprised she’s still with him, though. I didn’t think they’d last.
“You remember David, right, Kai?” Maya asks, wrapping herself under David’s arm the way I’m under Colton’s. This is so childish. What, are we playing who’s got the best boyfriend? Mine is fake and hers is a cheat.
“Uh… lemme think.” I squint.
“We recently reconnected,” she adds like I need a hint as to how far back in time I should go. “Right, David?”
“I… yeah, the name is familiar, but I can’t quite place you. Are you from St Johns? Or—wait. Don’t tell me.” Pretending to think hard, I pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand, the one that’s not wrapped around Colton’s waist—where it landed naturally when he pulled me in. Right now, it’s a tether I really need.
Excitement hits me when the story unfurls in my twisted brain. Pointing at David, I exclaim, “I remember! Claire Mansfield’s graduation party! You popped her cherry—”
Mom gasps. “Kiara!”
“She thought she was doing it with Bert Lawlor—the quarterback?” I continue, ignoring Mom and drinking in David’s paling complexion, the telling clench of his jaw. “But she insisted on keeping the lights off and then she was so upset when she turned the lamp on after and found out it was you!”
Mom talks over me, “Stop this right away!”
But I just keep going. “She came screaming out she was so disappointed, and then you followed in your baggy white—”
“That’s enough,” Maya hisses, her cheeks flushed.
I turn my gaze to her. Get a taste of your medicine. “Oh, honey, that was ages ago .” See, I can be catty too . Fuck but I hate this. Five minutes with them and I’m already a monster, just like them.
“Yeah, I don’t remember a Claire Mansfield,” the asshole thinks smart to inject at this point in the disaster, and I have to bite the insides of my cheeks to refrain from laughing.
Colton squeezes my shoulder and cuts through the tension. “Anything I can do to help, Eloise?”
Grams brightens, latching onto the change of topic. “Nope! Why don’t you join the party?” She points to the living room where the hubbub of polite conversation rolls, punctuated by the occasional laughter.
Maya, David, and Mom storm out of the kitchen.
“I need to make a quick phone call,” Colton says.
“I’ll plate the cakes, Grams. Be right there!” I need a minute to calm down, and taking care of my pastries will do that. Always.
Once alone in the kitchen, I let out a deep sigh. “Thanks for the save, Colt. I owe you. You should get going, you’re gonna be late.” I start on the birthday cake, loving how awesome it looks, while Colton takes his phone out and presses a few keys. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says. Looking straight at me, he talks into the phone. “Hey, Colton here. Listen, I’m really sorry, but I can’t make it tonight. A… friend needed me and I’m going to be tied up all night.” He waits a few beats, the tinny voice on the phone coming unintelligibly out.
My head spins a little while I plate the mini chocolate and mint eclairs.
“Oh good, okay… That’s great… Yeah… I’ll make it up to you… Alright, bye.” He pockets his phone and rubs his hands. “How can I help?”
By now I’ve moved onto the coffee mousses. My gaze fixed on my task, I snap, “What did you do?”
He shrugs like he didn’t just make the biggest mistake of his life. “Changed my plans. Why?” He opens the box of bite-sized harvest pies and plates them, our elbows touching.
“You don’t cancel at the last minute on Miss Country Club. That will not go well.”
“Nah, she didn’t care.” He moves onto the maple meringues and slides them all at once on a serving dish, then gathers the empty boxes and stacks them neatly in a corner.
I put my fists on my hips. “What did she say?”
“What do you care?”
“I hate seeing you alone, Colt. We’ve talked about this.” I even baked cupcakes for some of his dates to show what good friends he has! “Go get her. Get the girl.”
He closes the distance between us. “Shh, sweetness, people are gonna hear you,” he whispers, his molten gaze drilling softly from my eyes down to my core.
“Why are you calling me sweetness?” I whisper back.
The shadow of a smile plays on his lips. “That’s what I’d call you if you were my girlfriend. That, or sometimes sweets, maybe honey, possibly sugar. Definitely not grasshopper.”
He’s making me all kinds of mushy right now. I don’t know this Colton. “What’s wrong with Kiara?”
“Nothin’ wrong with Kiara. It’s a beautiful name.” He takes my chin in his fingers. “But no one else calls you sweetness.”
Between his words and his touch and his gaze, I’m losing sense of reality here. My body is reacting to him in a not-friend way. “What are you doing?” I whisper-hiss. “Method acting?”
He narrows his eyes on me and speaks even softer. “Your sister is watching from across the living room. I’d like to give her a little show, yeah?”
I start shaking my head. “That’s not—”
He shuts me up with his lips on mine, one hand behind my nape pulling me to him, the other cupping the side of my face in a way that makes me feel wanted , even though this is all fake.
My eyes close on their own, while my hands find their natural place on his arms and slide up to his neck. His body vibrates with an energy that feels both safe and exhilarating. His lips are soft yet demanding, and when he lets out a little groan that goes straight to my core, my mouth opens before I even realize what I’m doing.
Embarrassed, I clamp my jaw shut, biting on his tongue.
He lets out a small growl, and I jerk back, trying to apologize, but he simply presses his forehead onto mine and says, “We shoulda practiced.” Then he lets the smile on his lips morph into full-on laughter, pinches my waist, and drags me into the living room.