Page 25 of Entangled Vows
Mahika stood frozen, her breath coming in shaky gasps, her heart still hammering in the silence he left behind. The words between them hung heavy in the air, more potent than anything she’d said or felt in a long time.
Fuck. She needed time, space, and maybe a one-way trip around the world to escape the infuriatingly attractive devil who had gotten under her skin like no one else.
11
Mahika groaned as the loud alarm ripped through the quiet, stabbing at her already aching head. Why hadn’t she turned the damn thing off? As she swatted groggily, her frustration grew with each missed attempt to hit the silence button.
“Shut up. Shut up. Shut up,”she muttered, slamming her hand down until the obnoxious noise finally stopped.
She sighed wearily, falling back against the pillow as the memory of last night’s almost kiss came rushing in.
“Fuuuuck,” she mumbled, burying herself under the blanket, wishing she could erase the moment when they’d almost kissed.
And just like that, the scandalous dream popped into her head… her and Vikram tangled up in all sorts of compromising positions. Her face flushed crimson at the very thought. How on earth was she supposed to face him now, when every time she looked at him, she’d remember that dream?
Why was her brain conjuring up these images, for God’s sake? The Antichrist being infuriatingly hot couldn’t be theonlyreason. She’d been a mess last night… drunk, turned on, and spiralling ever since he’d almost kissed her on that dance floor. That had to be it. Yes. And she knew this was going to haunt her. Forever.
She wanted to hate him. She really did. Perhaps a full-on cleansing ritual, with fragrant herbs and calming chants, would break whatever spell he’d cast on her. Because this... this was escalating into pure ridiculousness.
Just as she was falling back asleep, the doorbell destroyed the silence. Her groan turned into a muffled cry as she buried her face into her pillow.
“Leave me alone,” she yelled, but the insistent buzz of the doorbell kept pounding against her head.
She spent a few long seconds wishing that whoever it was would eventually give up and go away. But no such luck. The buzzing went on and on, slicing through the house like an annoying mosquito.
With a resigned sigh, she pushed the covers aside, and instantly regretted it. The cold air swept over her, and a shiver wracked her body.God, it was freezing.The house always turned frigid overnight, and without her fuzzy socks and pyjamas, the chill was unbearable. She lowered her chin, already regretting her choice of lighter sleepwear.
She glanced down, confirming her feelings. Yes, she was an absolute mess. She had worn a soft sage-green pyjama shorts with tiny cream stars that barely covered her thighs, and a matching satin cami that clung snugly to her body. It was cute, yes, but completely ineffective in freezing weather. Her pastel-blue eye mask had slipped to her chin, and she had only one fuzzy slipper on. The other was missing... until she spotted it by the door.
As she started towards it, she caught her reflection in the mirror and stopped dead.
Fantastic, she thought wryly. She looked every bit as bad as she felt, to say the least. She grabbed the oversized cardigan from her chair, shoved her feet into both slippers, yanked off the eye mask, and tossed it carelessly on the bed. The incessant ringing of the doorbell only aggravated her already pounding head.
“I’m fucking coming,” she roared, her voice rough with sleep as she staggered down the stairs. Her mouth tasted like cotton and regret, and whoever was waiting outside that door was about to witness her disastrous morning firsthand.
Please be Ishika. Please be Ishika, she prayed.
She walked by her best friend’s bedroom and saw that the bed was exactly as it was a month prior, perfectly made. A small hope ignited in her. Perhaps she had finally returned.
She should have remained sober last night and called Ishika to tell her everything. She was too tired to even criticise herself now. She was still struggling to remember how she had made it home, let alone where she’d kept her phone after switching off the alarm.
By the time she reached the door, her annoyance had grown into full-blown frustration. Her tired fingers fumbled clumsily with the lock, until finally it clicked open… and she froze.
Of course. The one person she was desperately trying to avoid stood there with a maddeningly smug look on his face.
Vikram.
“Oh, for the love of God,” Mahika muttered, half in disbelief, half in exasperation.
“Why are you here?” she asked, trying to sound more annoyed than confused, but to be honest, she wasn’t pulling it off. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if that would make her look less exposed. Not that she really cared what he thought. At least, that’s what she told herself. Or maybe she did, which was again so damn annoying.
“I brought you breakfast,” he said casually.
Mahika looked down at the glass flask in his hands. The green sludge inside looked like it had come straight out of some villain’s scientific lab experiment.
“That isnotbreakfast. If it doesn’t have carbs or coffee, I am not interested.”
She tried to slam the door, but Vikram was too quick for her. He thrust his palm against the wood, pushing it open further. In the next moment, he stepped closer, and she was very much aware of his proximity. The incredible scent of his freshly showered skin crashed over her like a wave, and it was the last thing she needed right now. Not with everything that was going on.
