“Because Priti will flip if she finds us sleeping together. She’s already pissed with us.”
His wandering hands come to a stop at the base of my spine. “Thatwillbe a problem.”
“Which is why—” I start.
“One of us should probably move,” he says.
Next thing I know, we’re kissing again.
I didn’t know every kiss with him could feel so different from the last. This one is not soft, but not rough either. It’s somewhere in between, and so unhurried it drags on for what feels like hours. His lips achingly tug on mine, and my head swims with disequilibrium. I kiss him back, drawing closer to him, if that’s even possible.
His fingers trail my spine, hitching on the bare skin revealed by the halter-neck top. As we kiss, they lazily stroke my back, up and down my vertebrae, and then they’re in my hair again, tugging at my scalp.
“Rudra,” I gasp in between lagging, sultry kisses. “You need to sleep.”
He nibbles at my ear. “I’ve never been more awake.”
I lose myself in him, wrapped around him, his mouth ravaging mine like he can’t get enough of me. And for a second, as his leg thrusts up between my thighs, I think I might be able to get away with it. Because Priti is asleep, and there’s no way she’s going to come out here and see us right now, is there?
But all the terrible thoughts, all the things Priti said, which momentarily left me, replaced and quashed by desire, come back. All at once. They rain down on me like a hundred tiny stones.
I’m doingexactlywhat she said I would. I’m treating this as a one-off thing, unsure whether I might ever be with Rudra after this. I do want more than that. So much more.
But if I keep going, whatever little chance there is of Priti forgiving me, that will be gone too. And despite everything she said to me tonight, I still want a relationship with her. I want her to accept us and this. I don’t want to be the cause of a rift between them.
I rip away from him, gasping for breath.
Rudra’s lips are parted, swollen from all the kissing, and he stares at me, eyes widening in question. Tears overcome me again, prickling my eyes, and I get off the bed, away from him, away from the irresistible heat of his body.
“Krishna?” he says, sitting up, his hair tousled in a manner that makes me want to leap back into his arms and resume what we were doing... put his thigh back in between my legs and move against it until I lose myself in bliss.
But I’ll only be hurting myself in the process, because now I know what it’s like to have Rudra. I would’ve rather never known any of this, because I now must live with the pain ofknowingand the possibility of never being with him again.
“We can’t,” I say, brushing away the tears with the backs of my hands.
“We don’t have to,” Rudra says, shaking his head. “We don’t have to do anything. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to, or that I wanted—”
My heart lodges in my throat, making it difficult for me to breathe. “You didn’t want to?”
“No, I didn’t mean it that way. I do want to. I’ve wanted to for so long—but we don’thaveto do anything.”
“I know,” I croak. “I’m sorry.”
Rudra takes my hand, stroking it. “Don’t apologize.”
“I’m going to move away, okay?”
“Okay.”
This time, I don’t let the attractively boyish, utterly kissable sight of him faze me. I crawl into bed, sticking to the corner, even though it feels like there’s a hook embedded in my skin attached to him thatsnags as I move away, sending pain shooting through me.
There are kajal-stained tears and snot running down my face, but I clamp my hands over my mouth, swallow my silent tears, and will myself to sleep.
30
Better to Crash a Wedding Late Than Never
Goa, Monday
