“I like you, Kiara Randhawa.”
Kartik strolled over, casually wrapping his arms around Meeta and kissing her nose. “What’s going on here?”
“What’s wrong with you two… and yourpublic kisses?” We turned to see Manav standing there.
“Hello to you, too, buddy,” Kartik said. “And should I remind you about the number of magazines flooded with kissing pictures of you and your ex-girlfriend—” He stopped mid-sentence, his face suddenly sheepish.
Manav didn’t even flinch. He simply walked over to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water, and took a long, deliberate drink. No response, no reaction—just pure, unbothered grumpiness.
And that’s when my brain decided to betray me.What did I tell you about his hands? Correction: Big Sexy Hands.
But no, I couldn’t stop there. Now my eyes were following the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as this incredibly masculine man drank water. It was vexatious and hypnotic.
Oh God… I’ve gone insane.
I need help.No, scratch that—I need serious help!Preferably from someone who specializes inunnecessary attraction to moody, shirtless CEOs with impossibly attractive throats.
So this man kissed someone but rejected me. Am I now supposed to run across every digital archive in the universe just to read about his stupid kisses? Because now my brain is stuck on the thought of Manav Oberoi’s lips melting onto somebody else’s.
I shook my head violently, trying to shove the ridiculously inappropriate thoughts away.
Focus, Kiara, focus!
This is not your business. It’s not even remotely your concern who his lips are currently—or previously—occupied with.
But there’s no way I’m sleeping tonight without imagining what Manav Oberoi looks like when he’s kissing someone.
____________
“What can I get you guys?” the bartender asked, her gaze focusing a little too long on Manav’s muscular arms. I couldn’t blame her—those arms were worth staring at.
We settled at a corner table. Meeta and Kartik dove straight into one of their endless, overly affectionate conversations. Meanwhile, Manav remained glued to his phone—his face unreadable, his fingers flying across the screen like he was shutting down a country. But every few seconds, I swore he glanced up. Just once. Or maybe twice.
And me? I sat there, trying not to overthink it, but the writer’s block that had haunted me for weeks was finally easing—and yet, I was still grasping for something solid to keep it going.
A few rounds in, laughter, teasing, and casual banter gradually uplifted the vibe among us. Meeta and Kartik eventually decided to step outside for some air, leaving just Manav and me sittingat the table.
Manav’s voice broke through my hazy thoughts. “Where’s Elena tonight?”
“Her family had an emergency,” I replied, turning to face him. “I’ve arranged for someone to stay with me.”
His expression remained firm. “You’re not going to let any stranger in your room.”
I blinked at him—or rather,drunk Kiarablinked at him. His eyes, his lips, his perfectly messy hair, that straight nose, and even his annoyingly symmetrical ears… everything about him was so perfectly in place it was borderline unfair. Yet tonight, he lookeddifferent—somehow even more striking. Maybe it was the dim lighting, or maybe it was the alcohol turning my brain into mush.
“Stay in my room until Elena comes back,” he said, his frown making its signature appearance. Correction—hisvery cute frown.“And don’t touch my shirts again.”
“At least someone is wearing them.” I said, glancing at the time:11:59.I tipped back my wine glass, downing the rest in one swift, reckless gulp.
He didn’t laugh. Didn’t smile—just looked at me with those ridiculously unreadable eyes.
14 ♥?Manav
If I can’t handlenormalKiara, then there’s no way I can deal withdrunkKiara.
Why? Great question.
Drunk Kiara hasno filter.
