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Huan knows I like old texts, transit ads, staying inside and reading forums, but it’s not just because I’m a sucker for knowledge. He has taken all my activities and deduced rightly that I’m a language slut. Somehow, he knows how I get off on the right pairing of words to craft perfectstatements.
Huan cups my cheek. “Not to your liking?”
I go on my toes and grip the back of his head. If I could, I’d melt my body right into his—that’s how stunned and floaty I feel. It’s one thing for a person to know your interests, it’s another to pluck a deep, kind of cloaked one out, and bring it into the light.
“It’s stupidly perfect. So perfect I’m going to pillage you on the street.”
He laughs. “Such a hedonist.”
Before I can launch my attack, he’s got me against the wall and is pillaging my mouth.
“Bad sportsmanship,” I’m tutting against his lips. “I’m supposed to lead.”
Not giving him a chance to fire back—secretly between the shadows of our bodies—I palm his cock.
He swears and makes an incoherent noise.
We battle back and forth for a bit until Huan whisks us into a cab so we don’t get charged with indecency. Especially since the list of dirty threats we’ve whispered to each other is criminal, acrobatically challenging, and not fit for public consumption.
Again, we’re holding hands back to our hostel.
TWENTY-FIVE
Unexpectedly, Mohinder Uncle calls me the next day when I’m browsing my phone in bed alone and Huan is out exercising.
I think this call might have to do with how I’ve been ignoring Veer Singh’s messages, but that's because he's got this idea that we should pretend to be a couple when I get back. Technically, it’s not bad brainstorming. Many actors have pseudo-relationships to build their brand and to generate public attention. It's a proven tactic, andMohinder Uncle probably is all for it.
I wonder if Veer got to him. I can imagine his pitch being about all the headlines we'll generate.19 Couple Moments You Didn’t Realize Were Real Between Komal and Veer!
It sells itself.
My voice is tense as I answer the call.
“Hey, Mohinder Uncle.”
“Komal. Good, you picked up.”
“What’s going on?”
“This is a sensitive topic,” he says, audibly hesitating. “But it is my duty to have this conversation with you. It’s about you and your bodyguard.”
My ears heat and buzz, and against the backdrop of my newly thunderous heart and damp palms, I stammer. “W-what about Huan—er—Mr. Li?”
“For the record, I haven’t told your mother this.”
He knows?
HE KNOWS.
How does he know?
“We don’t want Shreya to worry about this,” he says. “Especially since I can fix this.”
“F-fix it?”
“Of course, that’s my job. We’re lucky I have contacts with the magazine who want to run the article. I’ve convinced them it’s a non-story, and that we can give them something better.”
Story? Article? Magazine? “What are you talking about?”
