A bewildered expression crosses his face, as if he can’t believe I’m letting this go. And I am about to let it go. Really, I am. Until something clicks.
“How did you know I was on C-Span?”
Nikhil’s cheeks flush red. His skin’s a bit paler than mine, and though my face gets hot when I’m embarrassed, I’ve got enough melanin that it never really shows. But not Nikhil. He blushes. Full-on blushes. I’d forgotten that about him.
“Oh. Uhh…”
“I’m not even actually on it,” I say. “Not like on one of those talk shows or anything. You can’t find it if you search my name. I’m just in the background sometimes walking around.”
“Right. Yeah. Well, sometimes I put on C-Span.”
I snort. “You do not.”
“I do. Just to have something playing. Background noise. While I’m doing something else.”
“Like what?”
“Cooking. Cleaning. Working on a project.” He shrugs. “I like leaving it on. It’s soothing.”
“But you never used to like watching it with me.”
“I know.” The tips of his ears are turning red now. “I didn’t really get it then. But now…it’s just nice to have it on.”
“Why?”
“Because it…” He closes his mouth abruptly. Then, clears his throat. I give him some time, but seconds of silence pass and he doesn’t complete his thought.
“Because it what?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
Curiosity burns inside me. “Because it’s free? Because you’re interested in policy now? Because you enjoy watching paint dry? Because—”
“Because it reminds me of you,” he snaps.
My heartbeat thrums loudly in my ears. I stare at him, absolutely stunned. He’s no longer looking down at the broken glass on the floor. He’s looking right at me.
“I watch HGTV,” I blurt out.
His brows knit, creases forming in his forehead. “What?”
“For the sounds. The woodworking sounds. Like the sounds you used to make in the garage while I was studying. I used to…I found it soothing back then. So, whenever I’m working on something and need to concentrate, I turn on HGTV.”
He blinks, confusion still on his face, and then comprehension dawns. His eyes soften. “Really?” he asks. Quietly. Tentatively. Likehe’s unsure if he heard me correctly. Or like he’s worried I’m going to take it back.
“Really,” I say. I’m not sure if I’d fully understoodwhyI’d been doing it or if I was just in deep denial until this moment, but everything I’m saying is the truth.
Nikhil shifts his weight, still watching me. And then he resumes his sweeping. “So, what’s your poison?Property Brothersor that couple that flips—”
“Oh god,” I say with a laugh. “Might be an unpopular opinion, but I can’t stand that couple.”
He looks up with a grin. “Me either.”
The threads of tension in the air unravel. “They’re annoying, right? And do they really need a line of merchandise at every single store? It’s like no matter what I do, no matter where I go, I can’t escape them.”
“Not to mention their advice on house flipping is usually dead wrong. They strip all these beautiful wood finishings, paint everything white—”
“Ha!”
