“Sorry, I was busy,” he said.
Quan laughed as he rubbed at his buzzed head. “Tell me about it. I’m so busy with this CEO shit I hardly have time for anything. That’s why I haven’t checked up on you before now. She’s not who I expected Mom to pick for you, but she’s great. I’m surprised you don’t like her.”
Khai started to correct his brother and say he did like her, but he frowned at his drink instead. If he said he liked her, Quan would probably start matchmaking. He didn’t want that. It was hard enough to stay away from her as it was.
“What don’t you like about her?” Quan asked. “She’s fun and hot as fuck.”
He couldn’t answer that question. There wasn’t anything about Esme he’d change. Not a single thing. “I’m just not interested.”
As he said the words, however, they felt uncomfortably like a lie. Their relationship wasn’t even physical, and he was already half addicted to her. He needed to keep them apart. For both their sakes.
He dug the paperback out of his inner coat pocket and flipped through the pages with his thumb once before he caught himself.
“You’re kidding me,” Quan said, pinning a disgusted look on the book. “You’re going to read with her sitting there?”
“Yeah.” That had been the plan. Weddings were bad enough on their own, but watching Esme and Quan interacting like best friends was even worse. He didn’t bother analyzing why.
“Can’t you try to be nice to her? It’s obvious weddings are hard for her. She grew up without a father, and it has to suck seeing the bride with her dad.”
Khai frowned. He hadn’t made that connection earlier. Because of his stone heart. But now that he understood the reason for Esme’s sadness, he swore he’d go through the list of Phils one by one if he had to, and then he’d send her dad to her wrapped in a red bow like a Lexus on Mother’s Day. As for being nice to her, he recalled his brother’s weakness for orphaned anything—dogs, cats, tiny gangsters from school, you name it. “She’ll be fine with you there.”
“Are you … handing your girl to me? You’d be okay with me and her being together?”
It took Khai a moment to comprehend what his brother was saying, but then his muscles flexed involuntarily. No, he wasn’t okay with that. He didn’t want Esme for himself, but he didn’t want her with anyone else, either. He always pictured them apart but single.
“Because I’m interested,” Quan continued. “Those eyes alone would do it, but the rest of her …” Quan made hourglass movements with his hands. “Jesus.”
Listening to his brother talk about Esme that way was worse than hearing someone chew with their mouth open, and the unfamiliar desire rose to punch Quan in the nose. When Khai noticed he’d fisted his hands, he uncurled his fingers, appalled. He pushed away his violent thoughts and forced himself to be rational. When he thought about Esme’s needs instead of his own, one thing became very clear.
Quan was perfect for her.
His brother could give Esme the things Khai couldn’t. Quan could make her happy and understand her, and most important, Quan could love her. Khai wanted that for her. She deserved that.
“I’m okay with it,” he heard himself say. After clearing his throat, he made himself clarify, “I’m okay with you two being together.” Cold sweat beaded on Khai’s forehead as sickness swam in his stomach, and he swallowed a mouthful of his drink. He couldn’t remember what it was, but it tasted strong. He wished it was stronger. “I’m going to go read downstairs. Let her know, all right?”
Quan considered him for a moment, his gaze level and weighted. “Yeah, I’ll let her know.”
Khai tipped his glass in Quan’s direction and fled the banquet room, feeling like he was leaving something priceless behind.