36. REEMA

Bebe is so excited by this ambush that she's co-opted a whole corner for it, guarding the space with her chunky electric wheelchair. As one of the oldest matriarchs in our family, she has clout. Geriatric royalty, if you will.

No one dares to go against her. It's well known that if she likes you, there is a certain golden treatment you can expect. If she doesn't like you, everyone follows her lead and ices you out.

I count myself lucky as belonging to that first group. Actually, she was the first and loudest person to defend me after the divorce.

Divorce opens her life up to an upgrade of a man!

Unfortunately, Bebe also likes Serena. They tend to keep each other company.

"Sit with me, Reema's man." Bebe pats the chair beside her. "Because my days are numbered."

"She's being dramatic," I warn him, opting to take the free seat that is closer to the exit, in case I need to flee.

"Don't ruin it," Bebe chides. "Let him think I'm on death's doorstep. He'll underestimate me that way."

"I can hear you," says Coleman, clearly amused.

He sits down as she holds the back of her palms up. "Look at these veins. I'm so frail."

"Really? I see the opposite."

Bebe's smile is a toothy grin. "You're a smart one."

"I like you, too."

"Run away with me."

"We wouldn't make it far. Patel has a violent streak."

"What do you like best about Reema?"

That's Serena asking.

"Everything, obviously," I answer for him.

"How humble she is."

I roll my eyes. "You would get bored with humble."

He doesn't disagree.

Serena crosses her arms as if she's been preparing all day for this moment. "I saw him in the bar last night with a man."

That catches my attention. What man? In the stress of everything, I'd forgotten that Coleman has his own reason for being here this week. Does this man have something to do with it?

"If I had a hotel room with my girlfriend," continues Serena. "I'd certainly make better use of it."

Serena and I aren't close, so I can't tell if her attitude comes from wanting me to be a loser, or maybe it's from a general desire to spread chaos.

Regardless, I can't let her sow seeds of doubt. "Coleman and I haven't had a lot of time together since it's my sister's wedding. There's so much to do, and it has nothing to do with us not wanting to be with each other."

God, why am I bothering to explain this to a teenager? Maybe because Bebe is vigorously following along with this line of questioning.

"Couples should be affectionate," Bebe agrees. "Make sure you kiss our Reema every day."

"Kiss now," says Serena, almost lazily, as if it's No Big Deal.

Hearing her casual order, my heart rate exponentially sky-rockets. But I'm fine. Especially since it is not happening. I stand up. "We don't have to kiss to prove anything."

"Are you a bad kisser?" Bebe asks Coleman. "My late husband loved onions so much that it affected our marriage."

I'm on the verge of making some excuses about propriety in a public setting, when Serena asks a much more dangerous question, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Do you have any photos together?"

He can't answer that! There are no pictures of us being a couple on his phone or on mine. If she goes down this path, we might as well confess now! Rushing over to him, I bend my face and put my mouth on his. It was meant to be a quick peck to distract from the topic. That was the plan.

But then I felt the touch of his soft and warm mouth, and my hands rested on his broad shoulders so I could push him away, which I will do after his lips brush against mine again. Only once more.

Just because—God. He tastes so good.

Jake Coleman tastes minty and delicious and his palm reaches up and curls around my nape. To push me away? Yes, we'll both be pushing away soon. Right after we've locked eyes enough, which is what we are doing right now. We've reared back–very minutely–and are simultaneously dumbstruck.

"Kiss," I whisper, as if justifying myself.

"Kiss." He dips his head again.

A distant part of my mind understands he must have taken my words as orders, but I don't ponder that for long, for I don't ponder anything after his mouth deepens over mine. He's exploring with heart-hammering intensity, nipping at the corners and then pushing at the middle to let himself in further.

Liquid heat crackles through me. I'm arching into him, bringing my chest down at the possibility it could press against his…

Coleman stands up.

He wants more leverage. He likes control.

Grabbing me from the back of my waist, he crushes me harder against him. There's muffled curses passing between us.

We kiss again.