“How so?”
He puffed out his cheeks. He hadn’t intended to reveal that much about himself.This isn’t your girlfriend, here on a hometown date.“Not a lot of people in general, but also not a lot of people who looked like us.”
Sejal frowned. “You were bullied?”
“Terribly.”
“For what?”
“For everything. Looks, accent, food.” He’d been so little, but he remembered that he’d lost his accent in a matter of months, not years, so eager had he been to fit in. He shrugged. “But it got a little better as I got older and bigger.”
“And the girls started to notice your eyes instead of what you were eating?” she asked dryly.
He went to her door and opened it for her. “What about my eyes?”
She squinted up at him. “Seriously?”
He brushed his fingers over his left one. “Huh? Is something wrong with them?”
Sejal put her hand on her hip. “You must have been told all the time that they’re beautiful.”
Oh. He ducked his head to hide the heat in his face. Yes, people had remarked on his unusual coloring, but he didn’t fool himself. His scar had gotten smaller after many treatments and time, but his face was still—as his college ex-girlfriend had rather cruelly put it during their last fight—rough. “Ah, no one has ever told me I am... beautiful, and certainly not in high school.” It had been different for Avi, who had been two years behind him and more classically handsome and charming. He’d just been Avi’s too-quiet, too-big, scarred older brother.
“Huh. Your hometown was full of weirdos.”
Krish rubbed his finger over his lip. He’d think she was buttering him up, but she sounded more annoyed than complimentary.
He looked away, to give himself a minute, and noticed the pub with itsopensign flashing in the window. “Are you hungry? There’s a pub right over there.” He didn’t want to sit in the car with Sejal alone, not fresh off her calling him beautiful. Or go home and have his parents and Sejal interact any more than necessary. Especially after Sejal’s impertinent and far too accurate guess about his mother’s former work.
He and Avi had had secrecy drilled into them since birth. He didn’t even fully know everything his mom had done when she’d been in the business. He doubted Patrick did, either.
But Sejal had casually pulled the veil back from his mother’scarefully constructed cover. A part of him—the part that was still stuck in bed with her—had admired Sejal’s observational skills and enjoyed watching her befuddle his mother. Nothing much shook Aarthi or her convictions. Like her certainty about her younger son’s guilt, for example.
She hesitated, like she was also thinking about what awaited them at home. “Sounds good,” she said. “Yeah, I could eat.”
Much like the rest of the town, the pub and restaurant, full of dark paneling and barrels as décor, leaned into the old West aesthetic. “Quaint,” Sejal said as they approached the bar.
A petite, white-haired bartender walked toward them, and Krish took his cap off out of politeness. The woman greeted them. “You must be one of Anna’s sons. Kris?”
He didn’t look at Sejal, who had definitely caught on that the bartender wasn’t using his or his mom’s real names. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you the one who went to Harvard?”
Now he definitely didn’t look at Sejal.Damn it, Mom.Either his mom had lost her edge when it came to secrecy or she’d felt really safe confiding one of her greatest joys in this stranger. His mom hadn’t loved the field he went into, but she did adore having an Ivy League grad in her family. “Yes, ma’am.”
“How’s your mother doing?” The bartender’s tag said her name was Suzy.
“Doing well, thanks.”
Suzy’s curious gaze drifted over him to Sejal, who smiled. “Hello, there.”
“Hi. I’m Seema, his girlfriend.”
“And what a pretty little thing you are, too. Are you two enjoying your visit?”
“We are, yes.”
Suzy looked between them. “I’m sure Anna’s delighted to have you visiting. We were just talking a couple days ago about hoping to be grandmothers someday. Oh, but you two would have adorable babies.”
