Page 67 of Red Flags and Rishtas
‘Not here,’ I said. My voice was raspy, but my tone firm.
‘Where, then?’ he asked, sliding his hands down my arms to interlace his fingers with mine. ‘I can’t keep my hands off you.’
With trembling hands, I opened my potli bag and handed him the key to my room.
‘Meet me here in ten minutes,’ I said, hopping off the WagonR with his help.
‘Where are you going?’ He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.
‘Don’t worry. I’m right behind you.’
Finding Pooja was not difficult. She was still at the fun table, merrily drunk with the rest of the TMJ team. They seemed elated to see me, but their excitement quickly dissolved into grunts of protest when I told them I was going to call it a night. Bloody migraines, I explained to them and waved goodbye, and slipped out of the back door of the ballroom.
Time seemed to slow down as I stood in front of the door to room 601. Every cell in my body was on fire. But when the door remained shut even after the second knock, I wondered if I’d been played. Had I taken too long? Had Aadar left? Had he changed his mind and not come up at all? Would I have to go down to the reception and ask for a new key?
Before my brain could come up with more alarming questions and scenarios, the doorknob turned. And there he was, towering over me in his sharp black suit, a delicious smile playing on his lips.
16
The Morning After
Agentle hand on myshoulder roused me from my sleep. My eyes took some time to adjust to the light and recognise the face peering at me.
‘Hey,’ he said, standing next to the bed.
‘Mmmm,’ I mumbled, last night’s slumber still weighing heavily on my eyelids.
He bent down to remove a strand of hair from my face, pausing when the palm of his hand rested against my mouth. Instinctively, I kissed it.
‘I really have to rush right now,’ he said, gently withdrawing his hand. ‘But I’ll call you later and we’ll talk properly, okay?’
I hugged a pillow tightly, trying to hold on to the snuggly feeling I’d woken up with.
‘What time is it?’ I asked, as he sat down on the bed to slide his feet into his shoes.
The fact that he was fully clothed made me want to pull the covers all the way up to my neck to hide my own nakedness.
‘It’s 8:30,’ he said, twisting his torso to look at me. ‘You should rest until check-out. You need it.’
I smiled lazily at him, closing my eyes to welcome the tiny kiss he planted on my forehead. I slipped back into a deep slumber, allowing myself a few extra hours before having to acknowledge the reality of what had happened between the two of us.
But when my alarm blared at 11:30 a.m., I knew I could no longer afford to do so. Waking up alone in the bed the two of us had shared, paired with my hangover anxiety, had slicedthrough the heart of my previously dreamy morning. Images from last night flashed in quick succession before my eyes.
The dark parking lot. Our first kiss. The car. The nerve-racking walk to my room. This room. Our clothes flying, his amused expression when he couldn’t figure out how to undo my badly worn sari, the tie around his neck with which I had pulled him into a kiss. The way he’d thrown me on the bed, the weight of his body on top of mine and how his skin had felt against my own.
No. Stop.
I pulled the covers over my face, groaning loudly.
What had I done?
Not only had I slept with the enemy, I’d also bloody well enjoyed it. But that wasn’t the worst of it. A string of messages was waiting for me on my phone. They were all from Madhav.
I tried to drown out my groans by holding a pillow firmly over my face. It didn’t help. The repercussions of last night’s escapade were hitting me with full force, and I could do nothing to stopit from happening. My head was reeling with thoughts I didn’t know how to make sense of, let alone process.
How had this happened? And why did something that had seemed so inconceivable up until yesterday feel so natural today? It was as if my body had known all along that this day would come, but it had forgotten to let my brain in on the secret. What was I supposed to do now? Go about my day as if I hadn’t just had passionate, burning sex with the man I’d been hating for the past couple of months?
A call from the check-out desk gave me the push I needed to get out of bed. It was Sunday, the only day I had for myself before getting back to the office. There were things I wanted to do that didn’t involve stressing over the guy I had slept with or the one I had wronged. Like go home and have a meal with my parents for the first time in days. And drag myself to V’s boutique’s launch party, the one I had decorated. After the mayhem of the past week, I deserved to switch my brain off for a while.
