Page 63 of Protect my Heart
I hate that he knows. I hate that he remembers. “I don’t hate it,” I lie.
Silence engulfs us. We both know he can easily see through my lies. “You always loved the rain. But when the thunder hit, you used to shut your eyes and count in your head like it would make it stop.”
God. Why does he know me so well? “Why are you bringing all this up?” I snap.
He doesn’t answer.
Another flash outside lights up the room for a second. I catch the outline of his face, standing close, way too close, and then it’s gone. Just blackness again.
I wrap my arms around myself. “Why are you here?”
There’s a pause. "Because it's our room." He replies. Yes, it is, but I need some space if I don't want to spiral myself thinking about him even more. “Besides, I was looking for you. Aditi was downstairs screaming at Kajal for cheating at Uno, and you weren’t there. So... I checked here.” He continues.
He steps closer. "Are you fine?" He asks, and I take a small step back.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not even sure you can see my face right now,” he says, slightly amused.
“Still,” I murmur. “Whatever this is... Aarav, I can’t. I’m trying so hard to focus, and you’re just—” I don't know what I am trying to say here, but I need him to understand because it's becoming very difficult for me to control my stupid heart, and I have a bad feeling my mind is in on this with my heart.
I can't seem to think reasonably when it comes to Aarav. Every time I remind myself this is just for six months, this is just a contract, a paper thing, all I can come up with is that it's too little. You only live once; enjoy the time you have got with him. I mean, what the hell does that mean?
“I’m just what?” He whispers, cutting through my thoughts as he steps nearer, if that's even possible.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I snap, unable to take it. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I wake up and you’re there in my head. I fall asleep, and you’re still there. Even when I’m trying to forget what we were… you keep pulling me back.”
There’s silence. I expect him to pull away. I expect him to throw some smug remark; instead, his voice comes, soft but steady. “I can’t stop either.”
I shake my head, suddenly hot and cold all at once. “Please stop saying things like that.”
“I can’t.” He says, his hands now on my waist. His touch burns my skin. Like a hug. “Anika, you’re on my mind more than I am on yours. And that’s saying something. Everything about you drives me crazy,” his hold on me tightens.
“Stop it—” I push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. I don’t really want him to. And I hate that about myself right now. He lifts his hand again and cups the side of my face. His thumb brushes my cheekbone.
“Your hair,” he murmurs, and I feel his lips press into it softly. “Your eyes.” He kisses my eyelid as they flutter close. “Your voice.” A soft kiss to my temple.
My entire body stills. I know what’s about to happen. I should stop it. I should say something. But my breath catches, and something inside me shatters as if it's been waiting to shatter.
He leans in. And I don't push him away. Stupid me,you are going to regret it. Anika, you better act now. But the only action I take is that I lean in too.
Like I’ve lost the thread of logic entirely and my body is working on its own accord. Like something inside me finally gave up pretending. My mind knows what’s happening, knows how close we are to the edge—but my lips still find his.
And it’s everything. Familiar. New. Gentle. Terrifying. His hand slides to the back of my neck as he deepens the kiss, and I let myself fall—into him, into this moment, into something I spent years trying to keep buried. I had always imagined this, and somehow it's far better than everything I ever thought. The kiss is soft but deep; it's absolutely perfect.
It’s only when the lights flicker back on that I come back to my senses and yank myself away. My breath is ragged. His eyes are blown wide.
We’re both frozen, caught in the silence and soft glow of a 40-watt bulb.
“What have I done?” I whisper, more to myself than to him.
Because I already know the answer.Everything. I’ve done everything wrong. And I’m not sure I want to undo it.
CHAPTER 39
