Page 11 of Protect Me
I stood my ground.
“I’m thirsty,” he said. “I’m going to get some water.”
“Let me do it.”
“I’m not a child.”
“No, you’re a surly tiger.” My hand touched his shoulder. “I’ve got it.”
A spark raced through me. I spun so he didn’t see the light race up my face in a bright blush. My mind settled on a memory. Summertime. A BBQ in their backyard where Vinita and I ran around in our swimsuits under the sprinklers. Water glinted under a hot, blue sky, and Vikram and his three friends—the Merry Idiots—lounged under the tree. They drank root beer, he had water. He laughed, throat bobbing, and I avoided him more than ever that day. He’d always brought me to life in new and unexpected ways.
How did time not erase such a thing?
My skin burned where the tip of my finger had rested on his shoulder. Years had passed since I’d willingly touched a man. I’d expected terror or fear or uncertainty. Instead, warmth flooded me.
Holy coconuts.
This was worse than I thought.
He nodded thanks as I passed him a water bottle from an almost-empty fridge. Only a baking soda box, an old carton of rice, and two eggs lay inside, next to a grouping of water bottles on the bottom shelf. I closed it, then glanced around.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
“Paper. We’re going to make a grocery list.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but I shot him a glare to make Vinita proud. He held up a hand in defeat.
“Fine. Far drawer, near the stove.”
Pen and paper in hand, I sat across from him and focused on the page, far from his too-intense glower. “Coconut milk, rice, coconut and cilantro for chutney, and eggs, obviously,” I drawled. “What else?”
A beat of silence followed.
I glanced up to find him staring at me, appearing startled. He shook his head to clear it, rattled off a list of other things, none of which surprised me. Bags of frozen veggies. Tomatoes, onions, ginger, and garlic for pulav. Kale. Sprouted whole wheat bread. Cage-free eggs, brown, from the organic section. Frozen blueberries and purple cabbage and sparkling water.
When he finished, I capped the pen and set it aside. “Do you want something to eat now?”
His lips pressed. “I should, but I’m not that hungry.”
“How about I go get some fresh fruit?” I said, scribbling a few more things on the list. “I’ll cut it up and put it in a bowl, the way you like. The honeydew is to die for right now. Cold fruit will probably help settle your stomach, or something.”
Vikram went still again. Warily, I looked up. He regarded me with a fresh round of uncertainty. I felt paralyzed under such a piercing look.
Had I said something wrong?
We held the gaze for so long, I came undone from the inside out. Finally, he licked his lips and nodded.
“Thanks. I love fresh fruit.”
My breath felt shaky as I drew it in, long, slow, and deep, all the way to the bottom of my lungs, where it would flush out all this . . . weirdness. The trembling. The bright-eyed teenager that shrieked to life inside me. The one that vowed to love Vikram to her dying day.
Today, she’d been unleashed. She bounced around giddy and terrified and powerful. I shot to my feet.
Time to make my escape.
“Be back soon, thanks!”
ChapterFour
