Page 42 of Protect my Heart
After a lot of discussion, Aarav and I had finalized a full-time nurse for Mumma. We ended up hiring Anita—someone I knew from college. We weren't exactly friends, but at least I knew the kind of person she was back then: ambitious, sweet, and hardworking. It made it a little easier for me to trust her with Mumma’s care. And honestly, that gave me a tiny bit of peace.
"Oh!" Aditi yells suddenly, making me jump in place. She gives me an apologetic look and grins. "I brought gifts for you two! Wait here, I’ll go get them," she informs, already dashing out of the room.
For a moment, I want to run after her—to cling onto her and escape the suffocating tension building in the room—but I know that’ll only make things weirder.
We stand there in silence. I look anywhere but at Aarav—at the walls, the window, the bedspread—until finally, when I can’t help myself, I turn to sneak a glance at him.
And of course, I find him watching me. His gaze is so intense, so focused, it makes my stomach do a little flip. I quickly look away, cheeks burning.
"Stop it," he whispers, so close to my ear that I jump, my eyes widening. When did he move so close?
I can feel his breath, warm and steady against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. My heart starts pounding like crazy, and I instinctively take a step back, desperate to put some space between us. But he follows, matching my retreat like a predator hunting its prey, the heat of his body wrapping around me. It does something fuzzy in my stomach.
Before I can even think of escaping again, he gently grabs my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. My breath catches and eyes widen. His dark, unreadable eyes hold mine captive, making it impossible to look away.
"Stop avoiding me, Anika," he whispers as he steps even closer until there's barely any space left between us.
"I... I'm not avoiding you." I manage to stutter, trying—and failing—to keep my voice steady. I lift my chin stubbornly, not wanting him to see just how flustered I really am.
He laughs softly under his breath, the sound making my stomach clench in the worst (best?) way. His grip tightens just a little, enough to make my heart race faster.
"Liar," he whispers. "You can lie to yourself all you want," he adds, voice low and rough, "but I can see through you. I always have."
I pull away from him with a shaky breath, needing distance, needing air, needing to think straight.
When he accuses me of avoiding him, I want to argue and tell him he’s wrong, but the words get stuck in my throat. Because he’s right. I am avoiding him.
I shove him away gently, irritation creeping into my voice. "I'm not avoiding you," I insist. "And you don't know everything about me."
For a second, he looks genuinely thoughtful, like he’s considering my words carefully. I smirk—maybe for once, I’ve caught him off guard. "Maybe you’re right," he says after a beat, and before I can bask in my tiny victory, he wraps an arm around my waist and yanks me back toward him.
I let out a small, very ungraceful squeak of surprise, my hands landing awkwardly on his chest to steady myself. His hold is strong, firm, and way too familiar. "But I want to," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "I want to know everything about you."
My throat goes dry. I struggle to find words, my brain short-circuiting from how close he is, how good he smells, and how easy it would be to just close the small distance between us and—
"And what makes you think I'll let you?" I finally say, trying to sound confident but probably failing miserably.
His hand tightens around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer until there’s no space left at all between us. "You don’t have to," he says, grinning that infuriating, cocky grin of his. "Your face comes with subtitles. I can read you very easily, my wildcat."
I blink, confused for a second before realizing what he just called me.Wildcat. It sends a weird, stupid flutter throughmy chest that I absolutely refuse to acknowledge. He has the worst nicknames ever!
Part of me wants to punch him. Another part of me—an extremely reckless, traitorous part—wants to kiss him. No. Nope. Not happening. I am not that stupid.
"So," he says, his nose almost brushing mine now, "you’re going to let me in—whether you want to or not."
Before I can formulate a smart comeback (or embarrass myself further), Aditi's voice slices through the moment.
"Umm, am I interrupting something?" She asks, clearly trying—and failing—not to laugh.
I jerk away from Aarav so fast, I almost trip over my own feet. Aarav, on the other hand, looks as calm and unbothered as ever, his arms casually folded across his chest like nothing even happened.
Aditi stands at the doorway, holding a stack of brightly wrapped gifts, her eyebrows raised so high they're practically touching her hairline. That teasing grin on her face tells me she saw everything.
"Yes, actually," Aarav says coolly, glaring at her like she's the most annoying person on the planet. "You couldn’t have picked a worse time to interrupt," he adds, deadpan.
Aditi just beams at him and pats his arm like he’s a little boy. "What can I say? I have impeccable timing, brother."
I bite my lip, trying—and failing miserably—to stifle my laughter. Aarav turns to narrow his eyes at me, but I quickly pivot toward Aditi, desperate to shift the focus.
