His low laughter rumbled over the comm, the vibrations sinking straight into my core.
I had just steppedout of a scalding shower when a comm from Chan came through.
His tone was dire, tinged with apology, which only meant one thing. While I swiped my hand through the steam on my mirror, Phoebe watched date night with Joshua slip like sand through her fingers.
A cold sweat broke out Pavlovian-like across my forehead, my face going from shower-blushed pink to a waxy pale in the mirror. I commed, silently pleading with the universe that he wouldn’t ask me to?—
I inhaled sharply, my cold sweat freezing to ice in my veins. Because what was he talking about? How would he have any idea what kind of experience I’d had with children? Did he know something?
he explained, settling my heart rate a few beats per minute.
Leaning forward, resting my elbows on the sink, I tried to catch my breath. He didn’t know anything. Of course he didn’t. Because I’d never told him anything. I’d never told anyone anything. I lied.
A snort slipped through my dread.
Chan went on.
Maybe it would be okay. Maybe I was ready to spend some time with a child again. Maybe, it might even be fun.Be brave, Sunny. Be brave.
So much for date night.
16
When I commedFreddie that Phoebe was no longer available for dinner, he was surprisingly understanding. On second thought, it wasn’t surprising at all. Because of course he understood. Of course he wouldn’t have read my silent, telepathic cues to somehow save me from this situation by being demanding or upset or any number of things he would never be. It was hopeless, I realized while standing outside the Ramesh suite. I wasn’t getting out of this.
I puffed out my cheeks, raised my hand, and watched the door slide open before I’d had a chance to knock.
“Hi, Sunny,” Sai said, waving up at me. He wore faded jeans and an oversized yellow hoodie, his feet still bare. “Chan told me you’d be coming, so I’ve been watching the Vcams, waiting for you.”
“And here I am.” I bowed deeply. “At your service.”
His smile when I stood up straight was all teeth. “Come in. Have you had dinner?”
“Not yet. You?”
Bouncing into his kitchenette, he pulled a dish out of thefridge. “No, but my mom made me some palak paneer before she left. It’ssogood. Want some?”
The dish he set on the counter smelled incredible. “I don’t think I’ve had that before.”
“Really? It’s my favorite. But”—his lips pulled to the side, his eyes hiding under his thick lashes—“ever since the incident with the tart, my moms won’t let me use the instaWave.”
“Ah, well,” I said. “That’s simple enough.”
After successfully warming the dish without any fire suppression required, I sat with Sai at the counter. The food was spicy, creamy, and absolutely delicious. It paired surprisingly well with the gigantic glass of lemonade he’d poured into a bright-blue tumbler and set in front of me.
