Page 51 of Not Your Basic Love Story

He looked down at me, meeting my gaze, and caressed the edge of my jaw with his thumb.

I smiled. “Do you still love me even though I can’t eat spicy food?”

He laughed and pressed his forehead into mine. “I still love you.”

His muscles tensed under my fingertips. I pulled away, noticing an uncertain gleam to his eye. “Something’s wrong."

Dev’s brow furrowed.

“Oh shit, somethingiswrong!” I pulled away from him.

“No, it’s nothing. Well, it’s not exactly nothing. We should sit down.” He pulled me over to the bed, and we sat on the edge, hand in hand. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts, and I waited for him to do so, barely breathing. Finally, he spoke, avoiding my gaze. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About our future.”

Oh hell. This is it. He’s breaking up with me.My heart began pounding in my ears as my mind raced through the afternoon, settling on every detail that could have gone better.

He exhaled slowly. “I applied for the master’s program at UBC.”

My eyes widened in surprise, and my pulse quickened. I stayed quiet, sensing he had more to say. He let the silence hang, both of us holding our breath.

“I was accepted.”

“Dev! That’s amazing!” I nearly leapt into his arms. “Congratulations!”

He grinned, but his smile didn’t meet his eyes.

“You’re worried, aren’t you?” I said, finally cluing in. His parents already had one child going down her own, somewhat questionable path. Dev was their sure thing, their shoe-in, the person they were counting on continuing their legacy. I could see that now. The whole family lived here together, their future dependent on Dev and his ability to keep the family businesses running. And now he was turning away from it to pursue a master’s degree, and with my encouragement.

“Of course, I am,” Dev said. “But I can’t live my life for other people. Spending the last few weeks working solely in my father’s shops, without classes to look forward to or studying to do… I couldn’t imagine myself doing it every day. I miss everything there is about school, and I want to find a job that’s more ‘me.’ Is that selfish?”

“God, no! Your life is about you. It’s not like you’re abandoning your family and backpacking Australia for the rest of your life.”

“True.”

“You can still be successful and happy on your terms. They will understand.”

“I hope so.” Judging by his tone, he wasn’t convinced.

I squeezed his hand, my pulse quickening. “So, does this mean you’re moving in with me?”

He inched closer. “If the offer is still open.”

“It’s more than open,” I said with a grin, bridging the gap between us. My lips found his, hesitant at first, but after a moment, he relaxed. I pulled him closer, and then when he wasn’t getting close enough, I climbed up on top of him, straddling his lap, arching my back and pressing my breasts into his chest. A moan escaped his lips, his bulge hard against my thigh. I pushed him down, laying on top of him, my pelvis grinding against his. My dress rode up past my thighs, and Dev’s hands found their way to my ass, where he gave it a tight squeeze.

The door swung open. “Jagdev, dessert is— Oh my goodness!”

Shawan was at the door, mouth agape, eyes wide in shock. She turned and left without another word, leaving the door open.

“Oh teri,” Dev said under his breath.

I pulled my dress down and climbed off. He stood, grabbed my hand, and then looked me dead in the eyes. “Well, we may as well get this over with.”

He pulled me out of his room and down the hall.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” I whispered hoarsely as we passed Priya’s room, her door now open and head poking out, as if she could sense drama unfolding.

“It’s like a Band-Aid, Rebecca. Trust me, it will all blow over.”

Thirty minutes later, I sat on a stool in the kitchen as Punjabi was shouted all around me.

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