Page 66 of Red Flags and Rishtas
My boozy brain came up with three options as a solution to my current predicament: stomp on his foot, bite down on his hand or hit him with my iteration of Shawn Michaels’ Sweet Chin Music. Before I could pick one, he handed my phone back to me.
A new app was open on my home screen.
‘What’s this?’ I asked, confused.
‘It’s a parking simulation game,’ he said, as if it was obvious. ‘It’s great for practise.’
‘Thanks, I guess,’ I said, unsure as to how to respond.
He shrugged. ‘I’m not a complete asshole, you know.’
I put the phone away, bewildered.
‘I don’t think you’re an asshole,’ I said after a few seconds, then added, ‘anymore.’
He turned to face me and put one arm on the car as he leaned on it sideways.
‘Oh, so my charm finally worked, huh?’
I met his eye earnestly and said, ‘Your brother … he told me about your ex.’
There was silence. He looked away, and I had to strain my eyes to read his expression in the dark. The streetlight was casting a shadow over his face, and I couldn’t tell if he was sad or annoyed.
‘He should not have done that,’ he finally said, his voice merely a whisper.
I stayed quiet, unable to think of anything that wouldn’t sound disrespectful. After a few minutes of stillness, he took a long swig from the hip flask.
‘I need to tell you something,’ he said, still peering into the distance.
‘Okay …’ I was grateful that he’d broken the silence, but his words had struck an odd sensation of nervousness in me.
‘Your sari has been sweeping the floor all evening,’ he said sincerely.
He caught my eye, and we broke into laughter together.
‘Like seriously, what’s up with this thing?’ He folded up the interminable pallu of my mom’s sari and held it in his hands.
‘Don’t … ask,’ I said, a stream of giggles washing over me.
We stood there, the fabric of my sari in his hand, snickering like two people who had smoked too much weed. In the future, when I’d replay this moment in my head, I would realise that his joke had nothing to do with our unending laughter. We’d simply found a way to shed the tension.
And once the lingering strain had evaporated, we found ourselves staring at each other, breathless and unsure. I was suddenly conscious of how close he was standing to me – that if he merely tugged on my pallu, I’d be in his arms. Even though I was wearing heels, I felt tiny next to him. There was somethingdisconcerting about the fact that he could see the top of my head, while I had to crane my neck to even get a proper look at his face.
I opened my mouth to say something, anything that would snap us out of this trance-like state. But the words refused to come out. The faint chirping of crickets faded away as we gravitated towards each other, somehow inching closer without actually moving. When the tip of his finger touched my cheek, I froze. My breath, which was coming out in short gasps, dried up entirely when he placed his mouth squarely on mine.
The warm taste of whisky gushed through my mouth as I parted my lips. Pleased by the invitation, his tongue curiously made its way inside, taking its own sweet time exploring the depths of my inner world. I felt his arm wrap around my naked waist, and in one swift motion, he lifted me up. He continued to kiss me as he carried me to the front of the car, where he proceeded to place me on the bonnet.
For a few seconds, my body was too stunned to respond. But soon, I felt my hands making their way around his muscular back. I pressed my palms against his lats, finally allowing myself to think about the glimpse I’d caught of them in the fashion closet.
I threaded my fingers through his thick, curly hair, grabbing a fistful. He abandoned my mouth to leave a trail of kisses down my neck. I could feel his breath getting hotter on my body, and I had to pull his face back to mine to keep myself from moaning out loud.
He yanked the pallu off my chest, and a small ripping sound whooshed from where it had been pinned to my blouse.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled before leaning down to bite my neck.
An uncontrollable moan escaped my lips, and my head drooped back in pleasure. I cupped his face as he nibbled on the tender skin between my neck and my earlobe. I could feelhis right hand circling my breast, tracing my nipple with his fingertips.
Gathering all the might I could find in my weakened body, I placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away.
