Page 143 of Embrace

That’s when I see it, the world’s tiniest black spider skittering across the floor. I spot the cup and piece of paper by the archway. I step forward, and the whole room gasps.

“Scar! Baby, don’t—” Kian beckons frantically, suddenly brave enough to move out from behind Summer.

I crouch, cup in hand, and just as the spider crawls onto the paper and I trap it under the cup, Kian swoops in. He sprints outside and flings the spider into the grass like it’s radioactive.

Then he comes straight to me, leaning in until he’s just inches away. “How was your exam, baby?”

The whole room is staring, but for once, I don’t care. He’s all I see. “I think I did really well.”

“Mmm, I know you did.” His kiss starts soft, then deepens until I’m on my tiptoes, breathless when he finally pulls away. “Look at us, we’re a power couple.”

“Oh yeah? Do you think you did well on your exam?” I was worried about his exam more than my own.

He nods, clearly pleased with himself.

Kian’s busy playing with my hair when I look at him again. “I didn’t know you were allergic to spiders.”

“You heard all that?” He almost squeaks.

“Oh yeah. Including your squeal while you were hiding behind Summer.”

He scratches the back of his head. “I figured the spider wouldn’t go near her. She’s terrifying.”

“Hey!” Summer shouts, already on a video call with Aiden, who looks half asleep in bed on the screen.

“Watch it, Ishida,” Aiden rumbles half-heartedly through the phone.

“Don’t pretend she’s not,” Kian mutters, and I wince as Summer stomps toward him, but Kian uses me as a human shield.

Summer softens when she looks at me. “Thanks for saving us, Scarlett.”

When she’s gone he lets out a breath, and leads us toward the kitchen. “I know you probably haven’t eaten yet. So I got you breakfast.”

There are boxes and boxes of takeout, all the breakfast food from Lola’s, milkshakes, and sides of fries. It’s way too much food, but I’ve seen Kian eat before. The man is like a vacuum.

“Are you sure this isn’t for you?” I glance over my shoulder to look at him.

“Hey, you love Lola’s too. I saw the way you cleaned those croffles off your plate last time.”

“I’m kidding. Let’s eat, and you better be giving some to your friends because there’s no way this much diner food is good for you.”

“Of course, but we get first dibs.” He pulls out some plates and sets them on the table. If he was going for an intimate breakfast for the two of us, it doesn’t last very long because his roommates barrel into the kitchen, grabbing plates and pulling out chairs to sit at the table. Kian checks in with me, as if he thinks I’d be annoyed, but I love it. I love the chaos in this house. It’s not something I’ve ever had before.

When we’re done, Kian refuses to let me help him with the dishes. Instead, he pulls the dish towel out of my hand and replaces it with one of those caramel hard candies grandmothers carry in their purse. I blink in surprise at the golden wrapper, and when Ilook up to meet those pretty earthy eyes, Kian’s already back to the dishes, a smile playing on his lips. I unwrap it and pop it into my mouth, watching the suds drip down the dark tattoos on his veiny hands. It might be the radio in the kitchen humming, or the stream of water accompanied by the low hum of the refrigerator, but it all feels so peaceful.

Kian doesn’t ask anything of me. Not for my help, not for my words, nothing. He just lets me be without taking. It makes my heart hum along with the radio.

But I like his attention on me, and I used to think that was a problem, but not anymore. I can crave the way his soft brown eyes caress my skin, how that smile lifts his lips when he sees something he likes, when he seesme. The way his tattoos almost blend in with the art on my skin, like we’re one canvas and two artists.

It must be the heady desperation of wanting his sunlit attention on my face that makes me run my hand under the faucet and flick a handful of water at him. He jerks back, his Carhartt T-shirt sporting a splash of water on the front that darkens the gray fabric. A few drops drip from his inky hair onto the bridge of his nose before he lifts his eyes to me.

Finally.

“You don’t want to start this.”

I free my lip from between my teeth. “Why not?”

Kian smiles, and my chest cracks open to spill out sunlight. “You can start the game, Scarlett, but I’ll always finish it. Every time.”