Page 25 of Not Your Basic Love Story

Dev pulled me back into a hug, rocking me while he stroked my hair. I wept for another minute, and as I did the ache in my chest subsided, my tears dried. It felt good to finally let it out.

“I feel so stupid,” I said, my voice hitching.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You see the best in people.”

I wasn’t sure about that, but didn’t want to correct him.

Dev continued. “He’s the bad guy in this situation, not you. He failed to see what was so special about you.”

Once again, I pulled back from Dev and wiped my nose.

“Can I get you a tissue?” he asked.

I laughed through my tears, nodding.

Dev got up, returning a moment later with a box of Kleenex. I wiped at my face and then exhaled shakily.

“I’m sorry I unleashed that on you. I know you must be thinking that it’s too soon for me to be dating after a breakup, that I’m not emotionally ready for it, that I’m using you to get over him,” I said, talking into the soiled tissues in my hand.

He brushed some hair out of my face. “I don’t think that at all. Well, maybe a little, but that’s why I wanted to give you some space. I’ve never been cheated on. To be honest, I’ve only had one real girlfriend before you, Sonja, and we split up amicably.”

“What?” I looked up from my tissues. “You’ve only had one girlfriend?” Nothing about our time together had hinted at him being an inexperienced lover; in fact, the opposite. He had natural talents.

He laughed.

“Seriously! You’ve only slept with me and one other girl?”

He nodded, a bit bashful.

“How is that possible?” I was totally unable to fathom how this incredibly sexy human being had been able to walk through life without women throwing themselves at him left, right, and center.

Dev picked his mug back up and took a sip, his other hand running absentmindedly along my leg. I set my tissues down and sipped my wine, watching his face as he spoke. I relished the way his eyes lit up, how his long eyelashes flashed up and down when he blinked, the twitch of his mouth as he smiled.

“Well,” he started. “Many Indian families still uphold the whole ‘no sex until marriage’ thing, which in my generation is pretty rare. But still, any premarital activities are done in secret. And, since I live at home, there’s no sneaking around happening there. Every Indian girl I know also lives at home, too, so that’s definitely out.”

“But the one girl, you two made it work.”

He nodded, seeming hesitant. “Our families have been friends forever. We’ve known each other since we were kids. We dated for a while, mostly at the insistence of our mothers. I guess they thought it was serious, so they turned a bit of a blind eye, but it didn’t work out between us.”

“Why’s that?”

“We were just... friends. I don’t know.”

“So, no other girls?”

He shook his head. “Nobody serious. I’m pretty focused on my studies, and it’s hard to meet girls when you don’t drink. My cousins are always going to bars and clubs, and that’s not for me. And you can’t talk in a library, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to meet anyone.”

I nudged him. “You dance pretty well for not going to clubs.”

He grinned, understanding my double entendre immediately. “It’s easy when you find the right dance partner.”

Once again, a tingle of electricity jumped between us. Warmth flooded my abdomen, and every inch of my skin itched for his touch. Without intending to, my eyes wandered down to his pants. He obviously felt the same way.

He broke the spell, moving to stand. “Um. I’m going to grab more ‘ch-ah’. Can I get you anything while I’m up?”

I handed him my glass, a little disappointed. “Sure. Andwhatare you getting?” I didn’t recognize the word.

He spoke with his back to me as he walked into the kitchen. “That’s how chai is pronounced. ‘Ch-ah.’”

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