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Ket Siong went after her. Once they were in the kitchen, well out of sight of the living room, he put a hand on her wrist. She looked around and he pulled her close, kissing her.

Kissing was still new and delicious. When Renee’s mouth opened beneath his, he felt it all the way up his spine, heat licking up his back.

Renee emerged from the kiss flushed, wisps of hair straying out of her bun. Ket Siong smoothed the wisps back, tucking them behind her ear.

“What was that for?” she said.

“I love you,” said Ket Siong.

“I love you, too,” said Renee. Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if this was pre-agreed between them, as if he already knew.

This was true, in a sense, but still. It was the first time Renee had ever said it to him, in so many words.

She didn’t seem to have noticed.

“Come on,” she said. “If we leave your mom to it, she’s going to go off and order that air mattress off Amazon. I’m covering Stephen’s hotel room, it’s fine.”

It was of course necessary to kiss Renee again after that. She permitted the liberty, smiling against his mouth, before nudging him away.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Yap,” she said, in her most princessy mode. “I’ve got a job to do.”

She flicked a look of challenge at him through her lashes, grabbed a glass out of a cabinet, and turned back to the living room, where—from the sound of it—a heated argument was underway about whether there was or was not space left on anyone’s plate for macaroni casserole. He followed her, smiling.