Helen Hoang - The Bride Test

PRAISE FOR

THE KISS QUOTIENT

This is such a fun read, and its also quite original and sexy and sensitive.

New York Times bestselling author Roxane Gay

The Kiss Quotient is the perfect balm for any reading slump and a wonderful palate cleanser for the summer. It also might just be the best book you read all year.

Bookpage

Hoangs witty debut proves that feelings are greater than numbers, no matter how you add things up.

People

Hoang knocks it out of the park with this stellar debut.

Publishers Weekly (starred review)

A riveting, compulsively readable romance that brims with feeling and warmth.

Entertainment Weekly

Hoangs debut novel is unputdownable, exceptional, and leaves a strong impression that wont wane anytime soon.

NPR.org

An absolute delightcharming, sexy, and centered on a protagonist you love rooting for.

Buzzfeed

A vividly romantic tale filled with depth, humor and a universal sense of humanity.

#1 New York Times bestselling author Emily Giffin

PRAISE FOR HELEN HOANG

Hoangs writing has a sharp, quirky, emotional edge that will resonate with anyone who has ever tried to navigate the complicated world of modern relationships.

Jayne Ann Krentz, New York Times bestselling author

Compulsively readable.

Library Journal (starred review)

Hoangs writing bursts from the page.

Buzzfeed

Hoang mixes sexy and tender with panache.

NPR.org

TITLES BY HELEN HOANG

THE KISS QUOTIENT

THE BRIDE TEST

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First published in Australia and New Zealand by Allen & Unwin in 2019

First published in the United States by Berkely, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, in 2019

Copyright Helen Hoang 2019

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

83 Alexander Street

Crows Nest NSW 2065

Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

Email:

Web: www.allenandunwin.com

ISBN 978 1 76087 602 9

eISBN 978 1 76087 145 1

Cover design and illustration by Colleen Reinhart

Book design by Kristin del Rosario

Dedicated to

M

Thank you for loving me and teaching me

how to chase my dreams.

Im proud to be yours.

And

Johnny

I still miss you, but especially at weddings.

Love, always.

First of all, I need to thank you, dear reader. Im honored that youve chosen to spend time with my words and I hope that something here resonates with you, makes you think, or makes you feel.

This book was extremely difficult to write for a variety of reasons, and Im so thankful for the people who supported me during the process. Suzanne Park, you are the most considerate, hardest-working person I know. You inspire me. Gwynne Jackson, thank you for your kindness and patience and for always being genuine. It means more than I can say. A. R. Lucas, Ill forever associate rainbows with you. Thank you for being there when things are rough. Roselle Lim, how is it that we only just met this year? It feels like weve been friends forever.

Thank you, ReLynn Vaughn, Jen DeLuca, Shannon Caldwell, and my fantastic Pitch Wars mentor, Brighton Walsh, for reading early drafts of this book. Thanks to Brightons Bs for always being welcoming: Melissa Marino, Anniston Jory, Elizabeth Leis, Ellis Leigh, Esher Hogan, Laura Elizabeth, and Suzanne Baltzar.

Thank you to the sensitivity readers who provided alternate perspectives on the diversity involved. Im grateful for your valuable input.

Mom, thank you for leading by example and being you. I wouldnt be where I am without you. Many thanks to the rest of my family for putting up with me as I wrote this book, especially when I was antisocial and wrote through all of our vacations. I love you all. Because I made the grievous mistake of not mentioning my nieces and nephew last time: Sylvers, you are super-super-duper awesome. And Ava, Elena, Anja, and Henry, too.

No acknowledgments would be complete without my amazing agent, Kim Lionetti. I couldnt have asked for a better partner for this publishing journey were on. You make this even more special, and I cant thank you enough.

Finally, thank you to the incredible publishing team at Berkley: Cindy Hwang, Kristine Swartz, Angela Kim, Megha Jain, Jessica Brock, Fareeda Bullert, Tawanna Sullivan, Colleen Reinhart, and others. This was an ambitious project for me, and youve all surprised me with how supportive youve been. Im proud to work with you.

Ten years ago

San Jose, California

K hai was supposed to be crying. He knew he was supposed to be crying. Everyone else was.

But his eyes were dry.

If they stung, it was due to the heavy incense fogging the funeral parlors reception room. Was he sad? He thought he was sad. But he should be sadder . When your best friend died like this, you were supposed to be destroyed. If this were a Vietnamese opera, his tears would be forming rivers and drowning everyone.

Why was his mind clear? Why was he thinking about the homework assignment that was due tomorrow? Why was he still functioning?

His cousin Sara had sobbed so hard shed needed to rush to the bathroom to vomit. She was still there nowhe suspectedbeing sick over and over. Her mom, D Mai, sat stiffly in the front row, palms flat together and head bowed. Khais mom patted her back from time to time, but she remained unresponsive. Like Khai, she shed no tears, but that was because shed cried them all out days before. The family was worried about her. Shed withered down to her skeleton since theyd gotten the call.

Rows of Buddhist monks in yellow robes blocked his view of the open casket, but that was a good thing. Though the morticians had done their best, the body looked misshapen and wrong. That was not the sixteen-year-old boy who used to be Khais friend and favorite cousin. That was not Andy.

Andy was gone.

The only parts of him that survived were the memories in Khais head. Stick fights and sword fights, wrestling matches that Khai never won but refused to lose. Khai would rather break both of his own arms than call Andy his daddy. Andy said Khai was pathologically stubborn. Khai insisted he merely had principles. He still remembered their long walks home when the weight of the sun was heavier than their book-filled backpacks and the conversations that had taken place during those walks.