He read the shirt again, running a hand over it. “You never responded. I didn’t know.” He shook his head. “You made this? For Samir?”
“No, dummy. I made it for you.”
Startled, he lifted his head. Her face was right in front of his, her eyes shining with barely contained laughter. He leaned toward her instinctively.
But Meghna pulled back, abruptly standing up.
“We should build a pillow fort.”
“What?” he asked, trying to make sense of her words.
“Have you ever made a pillow fort?” She grabbed a blanket that had been folded under the coffee table.
“Last time Ankita got dumped, we stayed in one for a whole weekend. We stocked up on ice cream and binge-watched old episodes ofThe Bachelor.”
Is that why she’d brought out the wine and ice cream? A flush of embarrassment swept through him. “You don’t need to treat me like one of your friends. I’m not Ankita going through a breakup.”
“I know that.” She frowned. “You don’t want to be friends?”
No, I don’t.The sudden burst of clarity shocked him, but it led to a series of other revelations. He didn’t want to be friends with Meghna. Didn’t want to be just friends with his fiancée. He knew their relationship wasn’t real and that it couldn’t ever be real, but he also knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted more than friendship from her.
“I don’t know,” he told her, his throat suddenly dry. He didn’tknow exactly what he was doing, but he decided to put it all on the table. To just say what he wanted and let the chips fall where they may. The mask of indifference slipped off his face, and he looked at her the way he had wanted to since that night in Miami. He took a step towardher.
“Can friends kiss?” he asked.
She stood stock-still, an incredulous expression on her face.
“Kiss?” she croaked.
“Yes.” He walked closer until they were no more than a few inches apart.
She inhaled shakily. “I don’t kiss my friends.”
“Okay,” he whispered. “Then let’s not be friends.”
Her gaze flickered to his lips, and something like panic flared in her eyes. He immediately took a step back.
“No,” she said, her hand reaching out to grab his. “Stay. I just…” She stopped and took a deep breath.
He ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
“I don’t want you to kiss me for practice,” she said hurriedly. “I don’t want you to apologize afterward or regret this one. Like you did last time.”
“Regret?” He stared in disbelief. She thought he hadregrettedkissing her? How could she possibly think that? It had been one of the best kisses of his life. One of the bestmomentsof his life. He shook his head and took a tiny step closer, looking directly into her dark-brown eyes.
“I didn’t regret it. I don’t regret it. And I won’t regret this.”
He didn’t know which one of them moved first, but suddenly his mouth was on hers. And it was nothing like their last kiss. All the hesitancy and awkwardness from before vanished. They met with open mouths and roving hands, secure in the knowledge that there was no one around. That there was no need to put on a performance. It was just them.
They broke for a moment, and Karthik trailed kisses from her lips across her cheek, all the way to the sensitive spot right behind her ear. Meghna gasped, and his lips curved into a smile against her skin.
“You like that,” he murmured. He continued a path of kisses down her neck. “Let’s find out what else you like.” His hands traveled from her waist to the hem of her shirt, but she beat him to it, sliding it over her head before he could. She dropped the satiny material on the floor and took a step back, her smile wide and brazen.
His breath caught. She hadn’t been wearing a bra. His gaze latched onto her breasts, small and round and utterly perfect. He moved to mold one in the palm of his hand, but she stepped out of reach, shaking her head.
“Your turn,” she said, gesturing to the button-down shirt he still wore. With a huff, he started slipping the buttons free, but his hands were shaking so badly that he wasn’t able to make much progress.
“If you have scissors I’ll just cut the damn thing off,” he muttered.
