It was surprising to hear that Patrick was on Avi’s side. Unlike Krish, Avi had been in tenth grade when Patrick was added to the household, and the two of them had butted heads more than once. Well, as much as Patrick could butt heads with anyone. Really, it had been Avi exploding and Patrick calmly taking it. “I don’t know if she will. She doesn’t believe him.”
Patrick grimaced. “Oh, ah, well. I only meant that hopefully she’ll get to a point that she can talk about Avi again. It’s grief, but she loves him. You know we came to this house because I think she hoped he might decide to run here.”
That was surprising to hear. “Avi wouldn’t come here. He’d know she’d turn him in without listening to his side.” His mother was fanatical about right and wrong.
Patrick cleared his throat. “You don’t think... I was there when Peter came by. The evidence is pretty stacked against your brother, Krish.”
Ettu, Patrick?
Everyone thought Avi was guilty, but it was okay. Avi didn’t need anyone on his side so long as he had Krish. Since the second his mother had put his baby brother in his arms, Krish had protected him, and he’d continue to do exactly that. “Yeah. So she said. I told her we shouldn’t talk about Avi while we’re here. You and I shouldn’t, either. To keep the peace.”And to keep my fake girlfriend from finding out Krish and Avi are two different people.“If you don’t mind, I’m pretty tired.”
Patrick dipped his head. “Don’t mind at all. I put your girlfriend in the room at the top of the stairs. I scrounged together some clothes for both of you. Sorry if they don’t fit well.”
Ah, shit. If Krish refused to sleep in the same room as his so-called girlfriend, it would get back to his mother.
Damn it. “Great.”
“You hungry? Need me to make you something? I got Seema a sandwich, I can make you one, too.”
Good. He was glad Sejal had eaten. He still felt guilty about that salad. He shook his head. “I’m good. Thank you, Patrick, for everything. We’ll be out of your way as soon as possible.”
“Oh, please, no. This is your home, and it’s a stressful time, what with...” Patrick clearly rethought bringing up Avi again, because he waved his hands vaguely. “Everything.”
And Patrick didn’t even know yet whateverythingentailed. Krish was sure his mom would fill her husband in. “Everything is a lot right now. Thanks again.”
Krish heard the office door open and shut behind Patrick as he walked away, and then the low bass of Patrick’s voice as he spoke to Aarthi.
The need for sleep directed his tired feet to his bedroom at the top of the stairs. The door squeaked when he opened it.
She’d left the nightstand lamp on. For a safe house that was rarely used, his mom had done her best to make the place comfortable. The furnishings were dainty, with lacy fabrics and beach-themed art. The queen bed stood in the center of the room. The lump under the white duvet told him where Sejal was.
He closed the door behind him quietly and paused. Her breathing was low and even. She was fast asleep, only her forehead and hair visible above the blanket.
I don’t like sleeping in bed with someone.
Internally, he groaned. A soft mattress was not in his future tonight, he supposed. Luckily, there was a small floral loveseat in the corner, so he wouldn’t have to camp out on the floor or in an uncomfortable chair.
Krish pivoted away. Damn it.
You are not attracted to her. It’s the stress. It’s reverse Stockholm syndrome. It’s... you don’t want to kiss her. Get back to the plan.
He straightened his shoulders and marched to the bathroom to wash off the road. He wanted more than anything to linger in the shower, but sleep was a more important priority.
He realized once he was out of the shower that the fresh clothes Patrick had left them were probably outside the steamy bathroom. He dried himself off and wrapped a towel around his hips.
The light from the bathroom allowed him to see that the clothes were folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Krish tried to walk over soundlessly. He picked up the new package of underwear, but froze when the bedding rustled.
Sejal emerged from under the blanket fresh-faced, her hair slightly damp. Her cheeks were round and smooth, the gentle light caressing her features. Sejal’s big eyes were on him. Or rather, on his naked chest.
He swallowed, but it was like swallowing sand. “I thought you were asleep,” he said, his tone hushed.
“I was.” Her voice sounded as low as his.
She came up on her elbows. She wore a white men’s T-shirt that was loose and oversized on her, but it didn’t hide the slight bounce of her breasts or the points of her nipples. No bra.
“Sorry. I’ll get—” He was about to say he’d take the clothes to the bathroom and get dressed, but she motioned him closer. Like a moth seeking immediate death by flame, he moved toward her.
His stomach clenched as she laid her fingers on it. They smoothed over the scar on his abdomen. “What’s this from?”
