“We want to hear about this secret talk,” Meeta pressed, stretching out like a queen lounging on her throne, the wine bottle casually dangling in her hand.
“Absolutely NOT!” I blurted, my voice cracking slightly under the pressure. My palms were practically rivers of sweat. This was no longer a friendly hangout—it was a certified disaster in progress.
Dear God, if there’s ever been a moment for divine intervention, it’snow.
“If you don’t tell us, then you’ll have to do a dare of our choice,” Meeta declared with the enthusiasm of a Wonder Woman.
“What…? Why…?” I stammered, looking around for an escape route. Maybe if I dove under the table and crawled to the garden, no one would notice.
But the universe wasn’t on my side today.
“Kiara… Kiara… Kiara…” The crowd chanted my name like I was a contestant on some deranged reality show.
Manav, meanwhile, stood at the counter, completely unfazed, mixing drinks like some sort of cocktail wizard. Kartik had joined him, clearly enjoying the chaos.
“Choose, Kiara: Truth or Dare?” Meeta stood beside me, topping off my glass with more wine as if I hadn’t already reached my limit.
I swallowed hard, my nerves fraying like an old sweater. “Dare?” I blurted out, desperately hoping it would be less humiliating than admitting theveryinappropriate thoughts I’d been having about Manav and, well…thingsthat should never see the light of day.
Meeta’s smile turned devilish as she grabbed another bottle of wine. “You have to kiss the birthday boy.”
The room froze. Even the air held its breath. Not a whisper. Not a giggle. Just a thick, charged silence was hanging between us like static before a storm.
And then, as if someone had dropped a match into a barrel of fireworks, the room exploded with laughter, cheers, and whistles. My heart stopped. Actually, no—it didn’t stop. It sprinted straight out of my chest, did a lap around the room, and collapsed somewhere near Nick’s cartoon headphones.
“Youcannotbe serious,” I managed to stammer, my eyes darting between Meeta, Myra, and—oh God—Manav, who was staring at Meeta as she’d just suggested a group skydiving session without parachutes.
“Oh, I’m super serious, baby.” Meeta replied with a grin, “The birthday boy deserves a present, doesn’t he?”
Manav coughed again and set his glass down with a little too much force. “Meeta… You need to stop drinkingnow.”
“Nope! Thank you very much.” Meeta waved him off. She jabbed a finger between the two of us. “Now, you two—start kissing before I come up with an evenbetterdare!”
Manav’s frown deepened, and his gaze shifted to me.
“Kiara…” Meeta sang my name like a playground bully: “Clock’s ticking, girl.”
Oh. My. God.
I took a deep breath, mentally yelling at every part of my body to move.You’ve got this, Kiara. Just pretend you’re writing a scene for the book.
Myra was losing it, her laughter muffled behind her hands as tears formed in her eyes. Kartik, bless his unhelpful soul, gave me a double thumbs-up from the corner.
Manav? Oh, Manav. His impossibly blue eyes stayed locked on mine, unreadable yet hypnotic. They held a storm of emotions, carefully concealed beneath that composed exterior. Without blinking, he stared at me like I’d suddenly turned into a live grenade, and he couldn’t decide whether to run or catch me.
With all the grace of a baby giraffe—and an equal amount of courage—I took a hesitant step forward, shrinking the already tiny space between us. My heart raced so wildly that it felt like it might escape my chest and take residence in another universe.
I leaned in, my breath shallow and uncertain, my face mere inches from his. His gaze never wavered, a silent pullI couldn’t resist. “Happy birthday,” I whispered.
Before he could respond—or maybe before I lost the nerve—I leaned in, rising onto my toes, with the lightest, most innocent peck on his lips. His lips, soft and warm, didn’t move against mine, but his sharp inhale was enough to tell me that I wasn’t the only one caught off guard. As I pulled back, I dared to glance up, searching his face for any reaction.
What did I just do?
The room erupted into a cacophony of whistles, cheers, and exaggerated claps, but all I could feel was the heat rushing up my face. Every sound around me blurred into white noise as my senses zeroed in on one thing: Manav.
He barely reacted to the chaos around us. Towering over me, he stood calm and composed, a sharp contrast to the storm brewing inside me. His arm instinctively circled my waist, the touch so feather-light it sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe—every nerve in my body was attuned to him, to the way his fingers rested against the small of my back, almost hesitant yet unmistakably firm.
And yet, in the stillness of that moment, I could hear it—his heartbeat, rapid and unsteady, a rhythm betraying the control he was so fiercely holding onto. His eyes met mine, holding me in place, grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain.
