Ket Siong nodded, because if he had spoken, he would have been compelled to point out that he, personally, had a lot of feelings he was all too capable of sharing. Almost all of those feelings were about Renee, because he saw now that she had somehow become part of everything good in the world—music, the first flowers of spring, the smell of coffee in the morning, small babies in sunhats, cats.
Renee was intertwined with all of these things. He would never see or hear or smell any of them again without thinking of her.
Talk about making things weird. Renee had said he was oneof her best friends. That was what she needed—a friend. Not yet another man who wanted something from her she wasn’t able to give.
“You’ve got, um…” Ket Siong gestured at his own mouth.
Renee touched her face and found the stray grain of rice. “Oh God. That’s so embarrassing.” She held up the grain of rice between her fingers.
“Let this be added to Derek Lim’s sins,” she announced, and popped it in her mouth.
7Now
Renee woke tothe pale light of London shining through the blinds into her bedroom, and the smell of coffee. The bedroom door was shut, but through it came the sounds of someone trying to be quiet in her flat.
She was alone in her bed. When she sat up, pushing the duvet down, a scent rose from the sheets, of Ket Siong, and what they’d done together the night before. Heat flooded her face.
That was a first for her. Not having sex—thatshe’d done, obviously—but she’d never previously slept with anyone she wasn’t already in a relationship with. It was the kind of thing white people did in movies.
Examining herself, Renee found she didn’t regret it. She felt a little surprised, but also energised, the way one did when trying something new, discovering unsuspected capacities in oneself.
She could see why people had hookups, if it was always likethat. Whatever the problem had been between her and Ket Siong, it definitely wasn’t lack of chemistry.
That was “have a one-night stand” ticked off her bucket list. It was a good time to have done it, if she was ever going to. If everything worked out with her dad and Chahaya, Renee might soon have a lot less freedom to have liaisons with guys she fancied.Next time she wanted to feel refreshed, she’d have to go skydiving or something.
She rolled out of bed, pulling on a sweatshirt and shorts. She smelt of Ket Siong. It was both hot and weird.
She should shower, brush her teeth, and do something about her hair. But she was drawn to the living room by that smell of coffee.
Ket Siong was sitting at the Peranakan marble-topped dining table she’d paid way too much for. He was in his suit, limned in morning light, eating something.
The scene was like something out of a magazine shoot. Ket Siong looked like an actual dream, a fantasy boyfriend Renee’s fevered brain had concocted out of lust and loneliness.
Whoa, girl.Renee didn’t want a boyfriend—not right now, anyway. It wasn’t like Jason had been much of an advertisement for the species. She needed to focus on herself for a while, figure out why she was always going for unavailable men.
Which wasnotwhat was happening here, she told herself. Sure, Ket Siong had rejected her years ago, but she was long over that. The whole reason she’d invited him in was that she’d known nothing serious would come of it. He’d probably agreed for the same reason.
This sudden longing was no doubt partly chemical—a product of the hormones generated by a night’s admittedly great sex—and partly psychological, proceeding from a retrograde part of her brain, convinced she needed a boyfriend to matter and desperate to find one to replace Jason ASAP.
“You’re up.” Ket Siong looked relieved. She supposed he hadn’t wanted to slip out while she was asleep. That was nice of him.
Renee looked at the table so as not to stare at Ket Siong and his offensively great skin. She’d bet he splashed some water on his face every morning and called it a day. God was so unfair.
Baked goods were spread out on Emma Bridgewater plates on the table. Seeing the plates, with their cheery pattern ofwildflowers, gave Renee a little shock. They were Auntie Mindy’s, and Renee hadn’t seen them in years. It was like being thrown back in time.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had friends over to the flat. Ket Siong must have unearthed the plates in the kitchen cabinets.
He’d also presumably acquired the baked goods. There were pastries, buns of various kinds, and…
“Is that coffee for me?” said Renee, brightening.
Ket Siong pushed the cup across the marble surface towards her.
“That’s a cinnamon bun, and that one’s cardamom,” he said. “This one has a custard-and-coconut filling. You should eat them now. They’re freshly baked.”
“You’ve been busy.” The natural thing to do would be to sit down. After a moment’s hesitation, Renee slid into a chair one seat over from Ket Siong, scooping up her coffee. That left a polite amount of space between them—not so distant as to be offensive, but not so close as to be weird.
He’d got her an Americano. Funny that Ket Siong should have remembered her coffee order after all these years.
