Page 58 of Reckless
Avril squeezed Kelly’s hand, quieter in her warmth.“We are all glad you’re here.”
“Me too.You’re the only people who matter to me.”
Britney stepped in then, crossing the last distance with that peculiar authority she had when she’d decided to approve a thing only provisionally.She kissed Kelly’s cheek once, then the other, and murmured something too low for anyone else to catch.
Kelly answered with a minute incline of her head.
Not warmth exactly.Permission.
That told me more than the words would have.
It hit me then, unexpectedly, as I watched her with her friends that Kelly was not simply entering my family’s world this weekend.I was being allowed into hers too.That was a more dangerous thing than it should have been.
My mother appeared in the foyer like the final stroke in a painting she had already decided was successful.
“Kelly joon.”
Roxanne crossed the room in a sweep of silk and diamonds and impossible maternal force and took Kelly into a kiss on each cheek that was warm to look real because it was.The women around us all stepped back a fraction.
My mother’s affection, when directed at someone, could make a room rearrange itself.
Kelly’s lashes lowered and her mouth softened, but sweetness grew in her face.
A moment later, maman slid one arm through Kelly’s and turned to me.“Take her drink order Xerses.Kelly was getting crowded.”
She said it lightly, but I heard the command under it as did everyone.
I held out my hand to Kelly.Because now that the moment had arrived, it mattered what we looked like in it.
Her gaze dropped to my hand for half a second.Then she put her fingers into mine.A rush raced through me from the small contact.
Her hand was cooler than mine.Soft, but not delicate.Her fingers flexed once automatically like she was testing what this was before committing to the grip.
I closed my hand around hers and turned toward the bar set up in the sitting room off the dining hall.The family followed us in a wave.
That was the problem with Norouzis.Even private moments happened in flocks.
“What do you want?”I asked quietly.
“Something strong enough to survive your relatives.”
“That’s not a drink.That’s a medical intervention.”
She smirked and nodded.“Okay.Vodka.”
“Specific.”I said and reached for a bottle.
“Practical.”
I poured and asked, “You drink vodka when you’re nervous?”
“I drink vodka when I’m surrounded by people who think my love life is a spectator sport.”
“Fair.”
I gave her a glass.“Does your mother have a photographer planned that might pop up at any second?”
“I don’t think so.”I said closer to her ear.
