A beat.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Do you trust me?”
His brow furrowed, that familiar crease of concern. He shifted slightly, his full attention on me.
He paused. “Did you have a bad dream?”
“No,” I whispered, shifting against him. “Sasha thinks I should come with you to Mumbai... but you never asked.”
He exhaled. “Kiara, this isn’t the right time for—”
“Are we not even friends?” My voice broke.
“Kiara…”
“Just answer me. Please.” I held his hand softly, “If you don’t want me there… just say it. If you don’t trust me—”
Before I could finish, he shifted, flipping us gently as his lips found mine.
The kiss wasn’t rushed.
It was tender. Raw.
A confession made of touch instead of words. Like he was giving me something he’d kept locked away for years.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
His voice was rough.
“Do you know what’s been eating me up these past few days?”
“What?” I whispered.
“How the hell am I supposed to survive four days without you?” He exhaled, brushing my hair back behind my ear. “Without your hugs. Without these eyes, I’ve grown addicted to waking up to.”
My throat tightened. “Manav…”
He cupped my cheek, thumb tracing my skin like he wasn’t ready to let go. “I care about you, Kiara. So much, it scares the shit out of me.”
He looked down briefly before meeting my gaze again. “Mumbai’s going to be chaos—business, press, ghosts I haven’t dealt with. People will twist everything.”
He paused. “They’ll call me cold. Heartless. Ask why someone like you would choose someone like me.”
A sad smile tugged at his lips. He closed his eyes for a second.
I pulled him closer by his shirt. “You want to survive four days without me?” I whispered, brushing my lips against his. “Then let me be there. Let them say whatever they want. I don’t care.”
His hands gripped my waist, tighter now. Steady.
“You don’t know what they’ll say—”
“I don’t care what they say.” My voice was firmer.
And then he exhaled.
