Felixwaspretty, and Ihadwanted to have a romantic dinner with him—at least, as romantic as takeout and beer could be—and Mrs. Kwan knew how excited I’d been.
Why shouldn’t she know Felix was a guy, too?
Why shouldn’teveryoneknow? Why was I trying to hide it?
Mrs. Kwan raised an eyebrow, pursed her lips, and then took a breath.
I braced myself to hear something negative. She probably wouldn’t run me out of her house or anything, but disappointment felt like a possibility. I wasn’t sure I could handle her disappointment.
“You know,” she said. “I have a nephew around your age who likes boys. He’s a lawyer, you’d like him. Lives in San Francisco. Might come here for Thanksgiving?”
I blinked at her again.
She was… trying to set me up with her nephew?
That wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d expectednothing, at best, just a neutral acceptance.
Mrs. Kwan looked kind of excited.
She still liked me. She wassmilingat me.
“Uh. I think, umm… I’m not sure if…”
“The pretty boy broke your heart, huh?”
I was about to say something along the lines ofI don’t think he’d be interested in me if he’s a lawyer.
Why would he be? I was just… Kieran. I didn’t have a career and I didn’t evenwantone. I liked my life the way it was.
But I knew it wasn’t good enough for Mrs. Kwan’s nephew, and I knew it wasn’t good enough for Felix, either.Obviously. Or he wouldn’t have just… tossed me aside when he was done.
… that wasn’t fair. I didn’t really think Felixmeantto hurt me, we’d just… expected different things.
He’d said boyfriendfor the night, after all. He meant that. I’d had more time with him than he’d ever offered and I was grateful for it.
Or Ishouldhave been grateful for it, anyway.
“Yeah,” I said belatedly, wiping blood away from the cut on my finger.
Mrs. Kwan shuffled to the little first-aid kit she kept in the restaurant kitchen, getting out disinfectant and bandaids while I hauled myself up off the floor awkwardly, trying not to get blood everywhere.
No one wanted blood in their takeout.
“Pretty boy broke my heart,” I said, hissing as she wiped the blood away from my finger with a disinfectant-soaked tissue.
“Well,” Mrs. Kwan began, wrapping a bandaid around my finger tightly. “You’ll feel better by Thanksgiving. Maybe you’ll come over, maybe my nephew will be here…”
I snorted despite everything. At least Mrs. Kwan didn’t think it was the end of the world.
“Or you could win him back,” she added, meeting my eyes.
“I’m not sure I know how,” I said, just as my phone vibrated in my pocket.
An email titledBook 7.
Felix.
I swallowed. Was this… a farewell gift? An apology?
