Page 9 of Bad At Love

Their eyes held in the mirror. And she couldn’t help sweeping them over the thick slashes of his brows, the broad swathe of his cheekbones, the shapely bow of his upper lip. How had she never noticed how kissable his mouth was?

Her entire world felt upside down because this was DP. As her best friend, he was forbidden to her. Especially since she sucked at romantic relationships.

She tugged her gaze upward, cheeks burning.

Something gleamed in his.

Could he read her thoughts on her face? Would he be disgusted by her ‘unwomanly sexual appetite’ as her ex had called it so many times? The memory of her ex and all the nasty gaslighting he’d done was enough to cool her down.

“I’m just tired,” she said, opting for truth. “Have been up since five am. This evening was supposed to be my reward after a sixty-hour week of cleaning and cooking for others.”

His hands squeezed her shoulders and she let her head fall back onto his chest. “I’m sorry, Char. You deserve so much better.”

She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion clogging her throat at his tender tone. Every inch of her shivered as he kneaded her shoulders with firm fingers. Tension dissolved out of her, second by second, and her body felt like a dress whose hangar had been pulled out. All floaty and fluttery and light.

Slowly, she settled into him, her back settling against his chest, her thighs hitting his. He was a cocoon of heat and hardness behind her and was that his…

DP jerked away so fast that she stumbled and would have fallen to the floor if he didn’t steady her. “Sorry, I…” His curse rang around loudly. “My phone’s ringing.”

Chaaru nodded and looked away, her face flaming. DP never cursed.

Luckily, her phone pinged too. Kaasi’s text danced on the screen just as the elevator came to a sudden halt. Stepping out of it, Chaaru mumbled that she needed to use the restroom and ducked into one.

She used the toilet, washed her hands and gripped the counter, refusing to look at herself. Refusing to acknowledge the overwhelmingly intense urge to go back and kiss the hell out of DP. Refusing to dwell on whether it might have been disgust in his words that she had pressed herself into him.

No.

A sudden sob built up through her chest and she took a shuddering breath. This was ridiculous, this fear and this shame and this…sense of her life spiraling out of control over the smallest thing. She wasn’t going to do anything that would cost her DP, she reassured herself, as if she were talking to a child.

Neither had she done anything wrong. Discovering that she was attracted to her best friend was…inconvenient, yes. But it didn’t mean she would act on it or that they were right for each other in the romantic sense. He wanted to get married, settle down andthatwas never going to be her.

She valued her freedom too much. Valuedhimtoo much to mess it up with her abysmal relationship record.

He was solid, dependable, and loyal to the last bone. Through the divorce and fight for custody of Kaasi, and then raising him, he’d been her stalwart friend. Her ex’s friend first, he’d been one of the few people in their huge circle who’d taken her side.

Without his guidance and easy affection, Kaasi would have never known a positive male role model. There was no way in God’s green, and now slightly warmer earth, that she would jeopardize their relationship.

She’d even set him up with the perfect woman, hadn’t she? Tomorrow, if he and Pooja decided to get married, his priorities would change and he wouldn’t give her as much time and attention. It felt like there was a splinter digging into her chest at the thought but she’d made her peace with it.

She’d rather have DP in her life in some form rather than get involved romantically with him and lose him.

With a shuddering exhale, she walked out into the lounge to find him walking its expansive length with measured strides.

“Forgot that I’ve been sitting there chained for two and a half hours. Had a near accident,” she said, tucking her arm through his with forced cheer. Every nerve in her body pinged with primal recognition as it touched his. “Bladder’s definitely different in your forties.”

If he thought her sudden conversational shift to bodily functions strange, DP didn’t show it. Tapping the back of her hand, he chuckled. “Good to know what’s ahead.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not the same for people without hormones messing them up,” she said, as they stepped out into the streets and a relentless downpour greeted them. “It’s really a buffet of issues for women in forties while men get to-”

“For what it’s worth,” DP said, untangling himself from her to open the umbrella with a rueful twist of his mouth, “I think you keep getting better with each year, Char.”

Chaaru blushed at his soft tone and the deep conviction in his eyes. “Why, thank you, kind sir. The trick is hydration, back-breaking cleaning from sun-up to sun-down, and lots of heart-pounding sex.”

Cheeks heating, she regretted the frivolous comment instantly.

DP wriggled his brows, though his gaze said something else.

Chaaru looked away before she could read what it was. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling miserable at how every small thing now had a different nuance. Against her heated skin, the night air felt especially chilly, rolling instant goosebumps.

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