Priya in Heels (Entangled Embrace)

by Ayesha Patel

  Ty muttered something before drawing a card. The group grumbled. He won another hand and dealt the next round.

  “I’m a resident physician, family practice.”

  “Smart and pretty.” Terrie locked eyes with Ty. “Sounds like a keeper.”

  “What do you guys do?” I shifted on Ty’s muscular thigh.

  “Steve and I are aerospace engineers at the Hawk Institute for Space Sciences.”

  Wow! The response totally floored me.

  “Jackson and Mike are program analysts.”

  “We’re in between jobs.” Jackson sulked.

  “Oh, hope you find work soon,” I said.

  “I’m sure we will. I like having a break from work, though.”

  “Paid breaks are way better,” Mike interjected. “But we’ll survive.”

  I didn’t expect Ty’s friends to be so educated, sophisticated. For a bar musician, he had an intellectual inner circle.

  Terrie and Steve won a few hands, and Jackson two. Partway through another round, Ty shifted beneath me, picked me up by the waist, and moved me onto his other thigh as if I were a small child.

  “Leg fell asleep?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “I should get up.” My muscles stiffened in anticipation of standing, but he kept a firm hold on me.

  “Nah, I don’t mind,” he said and kept playing.

  Then I played a hand and Ty either nodded or rejected my moves. Poker wasn’t difficult to learn, despite the fact that I didn’t win a single round. Good thing we didn’t gamble with money.

  We must’ve played for an hour before everyone shuffled toward the door and gathered their things. Terrie flung a fabulous taupe and orange Fossil bag over her shoulder and gave me a hug. “So great to finally meet you. You should hang with us again.”

  Finally? I shot Ty a look. He played it off with a shrug.

  Steve and Jackson shook my hand before leaving.

  Mike asked, “Can I get a hug, too?”

  “Back off,” Ty warned.

  “Just joking, man.”

  “You are not allowed to drink here again.”

  “Seriously, I was joking,” Mike said to me. I nodded politely.

  “You’re taking him home, Jackson?” Ty asked as I squeezed past him. He took my elbow and reeled me back.

  “Of course!” Jackson answered.

  “Where are you going?” Ty asked, glancing down at me.

  “I really have to pee. I’m practically doing the don’t-pee-in-my-pants dance.”

  “You can use my bathroom.”

  “My place is just down the hall.”

  “Uh, you’re already dancing. You better hurry.” He gave me a gentle nudge toward his bathroom.

  As I tried to pee as quietly as womanly possible, I studied a bachelor’s bathroom. This one was nice, clean, and smelled like manly soap. Mmm, I loved his smell. Wait, what? No, I didn’t love anything about him. I couldn’t.

  By the time I finished, everyone had left and Ty was cleaning the table.

  He dropped off dishes in the kitchen as I snuck past him. “I should get going, too.”

  “Why?” He plopped down on the couch with a bowl and turned on the TV.

  “Because it’s late, and—”

  “And we can watch BSG.”

  “What?” I sat at the far end of the couch. “Oh, I love Battlestar.”

  Ty stared at me.

  “What? A woman can’t like BSG?”

  “Not one like you.”

  “Like me?”

  “Not nerdy.”

  “I’m so nerdy.”

  “Don’t look it.”

  “I have three goals in life: work in private practice, bring plaid back, and dominate San Diego Comic-Con. Nerd city.”

  He chuckled. “My kind of girl.” He handed the bowl to me.

  I partook of rich caramel popcorn. “You didn’t bring this out during the game?”

  “Are you kidding me? Those guys would’ve eaten my entire batch in five minutes.”

  “I’m about to eat this entire batch in five minutes. You made this?” I chomped on the kernels. The caramel melted in my mouth.

  “Yep. Takes a ridiculously long time.”

  “You must not cook often.”

  “I do, just not snacks and desserts.”

  “Cyborgs slash Cylons are amazing.” I stared at the hotties who played BSG’s human-like machines.

  “You know, there’s an advanced program at NASA about technological singularity to prepare for and prevent cyborg assimilation in real-world scenarios.”

  I gawked at him.

  “Did I mention I’m an astrophysicist? You should check out my library in the other room, all about physics and AI.”

  “Are you joking?”

  He chuckled. “No. I really live off a musician’s salary.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not with his half-grin and playful eyes. We watched BSG for a while as I fantasized about being a Cylon and the power that came with it. I commented, “I wish I were a cyborg. No one would mess with me.”

  “Who would ever want to mess with you, sweet, brainy, Pree?”

  “Please don’t call me that, and not everyone likes me.”

  “Who? I’ll beat the crap out of them.”

  “It’s cultural, family stuff.” I sighed.

  He waited.

  “Oh, did you want further explanation?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I dunno. There’s a lot of pressure from my culture to be highly educated, make a lot of money, be perfect. Which isn’t too bad, since I’m a doctor. I’m expected to be the best at everything, and anything less is failure. It’s like living life under a microscope, and whatever I don’t do perfectly goes back to my parents. Sometimes I think people just use me as an excuse to hurt them, and that makes me feel helpless. Once I caught my aunt calling my mom a whore over something stupid that I did. I almost punched her. See, if I were a Cylon, I’d just blast her face off.”

  “You should’ve kicked her ass.”

  “And if I did, they’d label me a short-tempered, violent girl.”

  “Who cares? They deserved it.”

  “Yeah, but they’re older. They’re…family.”

  “That’s effed up. No one would get away with calling my mom a whore.”

  “That’s the culture. Had I snapped, I would’ve shamed her. See? Messed up, restrictive. Cylons wouldn’t care.”

  He shook his head incredulously. “I don’t get that. Defending her honor, standing up for the woman who gave birth to you and didn’t do anything wrong?”

  “Well, yeah. There’s a lot of politics in my family, too. My aunts are always talking about her behind her back, and I’m pretty sure about me, too. They’re the power holders.”

  “I’d like to meet them one day.”

  “If they met you, they’d call me a whore, too.”

  “We haven’t done anything.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Although it’s okay for their daughters to screw guys since those guys are Indian.”

  He shook his head. “You’re right, I don’t get it.”

  “It’s called judgmental hypocrisy.”

  “You should really mess with them by dating a white guy.”

  “Have any suggestions?” I played along.

  “Yeah, Mike,” he answered with a serious expression.

  His joking words—at least I thought he was joking—were stabs through my chest. I didn’t care for this feeling.

  “Mike likes me?” I strived to ask without croaking to let him know I couldn’t care less. “Because Vicki has a thing for you,” I added, a bitter taste in my mouth.

  My words didn’t seem to affect him. “Didn’t you hear him trying to hit on you?”

  I shrugged. “I’m pretty oblivious sometimes.”

  “What’s that smell?”

  “What?” I panicked. Did I have bad breath, and could he smell it all the way over there?

 
He leaned into me, his shoulders barely pressed against mine as he sniffed my neck. I almost touched his chest but had enough self-control not to. I froze and got a whiff of his manly combination of shampoo, body wash, and deodorant before he backed away.

  “Lavender, right?”

  I nodded, unable to move.

  “Nice.” We watched Battlestar and munched on popcorn while I sat, half dazed and half aroused. He’d turned me on with such ease that I couldn’t comprehend it.

  We watched a BSG marathon with Ty’s commentary on trivia and little-known BSG facts. Some part of me wanted him to flirt a little more although a bigger part of me relaxed, knowing he wouldn’t try anything to put me in a compromising position. So we enjoyed Battlestar, and I loosened up. I was alone with a man in the middle of the night and he didn’t have any intentions or expectations of trying to get into my pants, which was wonderful because I liked Ty. A lot. And I wanted to be friends.

  Chapter Nine

  Tyler

  Aside from Pree being the finest woman I’d ever seen, her intoxicating scent alone had me raring to go. I didn’t know what stopped me from kissing her neck when I leaned in for a sniff. Maybe I was afraid she’d run off.

  She fell asleep in the middle of my Battlestar commentary. I leaned against the couch arm, one hand tucked beneath my head, and watched her. I was tempted to run my fingers up her legs and stretch them over me. She couldn’t have been too comfortable.

  I pulled down the throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over her. I was content in this moment, halfway asleep with a beautiful woman. Sure, I wanted to taste her lips, touch her skin, but I enjoyed the peace of just having Pree near.

  When she snored lightly, my lips quirked up. How could a woman jump from sexy one minute to adorable the next?

  I forfeited to heavy lids when the faint beeping from my watch coaxed me out of sleep. I yawned and carefully moved off the couch. Pree jerked awake, sucking in a deep breath and looking around to gain her bearings. Her hand went straight to her neck. What I wouldn’t give to massage those shoulders.

  Taking the opportunity, I bent over her, pulled the blanket to her chest, and whispered, “Go back to sleep.”

  She yawned and obeyed. She was as tired as I was. I gently stretched her legs out on the couch. I stripped off my shirt on the way to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and brushed my teeth. Today would be hard to get through without sleep, but it was worth it to have spent so much time with Pree.

  I turned toward a knock on the partially opened door. Pree stood there, confused and cute with squinted eyes. If I ran my hands through her untamed hair, would she hit me? Probably.

  Her stare gradually widened as her eyes skimmed down the length of my shirtless torso and back up. I silently enjoyed the appreciation evident on her face, which was an unbelievable turn-on. There was no way anyone could convince me that Pree wasn’t attracted to me.

  “Do you have to pee?” I asked, my voice deep, gritty.

  “No,” she squeaked.

  “Okay.” I returned to brushing and spitting. I turned on the shower and unbuttoned my jeans.

  Pree’s face turned bright red, priceless! She stared at my hand, the one gripping my fly. I slowly unzipped. She swallowed hard. This was fun.

  “I…I should get home,” she stuttered.

  I wiped my mouth with a towel. “Okay. Thanks for coming over. We’ll have to do this again, maybe on a night where I don’t work the next day so I’m a little more fun.”

  “Oh my God! You have to work today?”

  “No big deal.”

  “Yes it is! Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you invite me to watch Battlestar all night?”

  I chuckled. “I wanted you to stay. It was fun.”

  She crossed her arms. “Irresponsible.”

  “Why? I’m fully awake and can perform my job duties just fine. I’m not just going to sit around all day. Moving from table to table helps me stay awake. It’s all good.”

  “Well, thanks for everything about last night. It was really fun, and the popcorn was delicious. Sorry I ate it all.”

  I flashed a smile that made her gasp. Fantastic. I took a big step forward so that I was only inches from her. My mouth was at her eye level. She watched my lips as I said, “I’ll make more.”

  She stumbled back and almost tripped over herself. I caught her, one arm firm around her tiny waist. Her hands were warm against my bare chest as I pulled her up.

  Pree gently pushed away and said, “Have a good day at work.” Abruptly, she walked to the living room and grabbed her cell phone and keys from the kitchen counter. I followed.

  She opened the door and jumped when I spoke right behind her. “I’ll see you out.”

  Pree spun around and slapped my chest, immediately retracting her hand and clutching her wrist. She hissed.

  I took her hand and massaged her wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  She snatched it back.

  “Didn’t mean to scare you.” I laughed.

  She stepped out with a shake of her head.

  I braced the top of the doorframe and leaned out into the hallway, toward her, so that I was fully flexed, half naked, and fly undone. Her gawking proved my point. She was definitely into me.

  “I don’t get a good-bye hug?”

  “Not with you half naked,” she shot back with a smile and walked away.

  Pree had to know I watched her. She strutted. Ha! She liked me.

  I continued to watch her backside, tempting and graceful in the world’s most perfect pair of jeans. I scratched my neck and groaned. Watching her walk away led to wicked thoughts.

  Chapter Ten

  Priya

  The day flew by. Perhaps because Sunday was usually my only free day, or because Sunday had been declared get-everything-done-day. Shopping, bills, phone calls, notes, laundry…oh God, laundry!

  I rummaged through a pathetic dresser. No underwear, no bras, no pajamas, and down to one pair of ankle socks. At least we had a washer/dryer inside the apartment, which worked for its keep all day. My sheets needed washing, as did the towels and the bathroom rugs. I did everything else on my to-do list in between loads, including providing lunch and dinner for Vicki and me.

  “You cook once a week and it’s takeout?” Vicki asked.

  I shrugged. “I’m busy.” And it was a good thing I was busy, because otherwise I’d lay around all day fantasizing about Ty and his insanely ripped body. I bit my lip just thinking about him.

  Speaking of Ty, my phone buzzed with his text.

  Ty: Wanna go to dinner?

  Priya: Just ate.

  Ty: Wanna come over?

  I nibbled on my lower lip.

  “Who’s texting you?” Vicki tried to snatch the phone but missed.

  “Ty wants to see me tonight.”

  “And? Are you going to shave your legs and go over there?”

  “What? Shut up! I’m not shaving for him. He’s not going there.”

  “You might as well shave every day because he’ll get into your pants when you least expect it.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Priya: I’m swamped. Gotta get to bed early, long week.

  Ty: Another time.

  “I’ve got to stop hanging out with him,” I muttered.

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to like him too much.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Yes! It would break my mom’s heart. How can I do that to her? I’ve always done what she asked me to do. The only things I haven’t done yet are marry the guy she picks and have two children, a boy and a girl.”

  “You’re being stupid. Your parents love you. She would be happy if you married the man you love.”

  “First of all, I don’t love Ty. Second, he’s not anything like the guy I should marry. He’s a musician. I’m a doctor. That’s not even balanced. Well, he said he was an astrophysicist, but I can’t tell if he was joking. Anyway, that doesn’t mat
ter. He’s still American, still white. How could I hurt my parents, who are good people and want nothing but the best for me, and who put up with crap they don’t deserve as it is?”

  “Are you listening to yourself? You don’t go to mandir unless there’s a wedding or your mom drags you, so who there do you need to please? Indians are the worst hypocrites, so who gives a rat’s ass if random strangers on the street give you the evil eye because you’re with a white man? The world is changing. The old ways are old. Indians have interracial marriages, interracial relationships, and interracial naughty sex.”

  “I’m a good girl. I’m trying my best to uphold the old ways.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my mom wants me to.”

  “You are such a mama’s girl.”

  “I am. I’m not ashamed that I love my parents and want to do everything to make them happy. They only want what’s best for me. Had I not paid heed to their wants, I wouldn’t have learned three languages, I wouldn’t have graduated high school as valedictorian, wouldn’t have gotten scholarships, wouldn’t have made it into med school, wouldn’t be where I am now. They wanted me to concentrate on school and not date. So I did. I wasn’t distracted by boys.

  “Above everything else, I can’t handle hurting my parents. That would tear me apart. And what kind of man encourages a woman to drag her parents through the mud just so he can get into her pants?”

  Vicki rested her chin in her hand and shook her head. “You’re hopeless. And still dumb.”

  “Vicki. When are you going to tell your parents you’ll marry who you want?”

  She broke eye contact.

  “Yeah, go find your own white guy, or better yet, a black Muslim and see how that works out. I will not destroy my relationship with my mom because of an irrational connection to the guy down the hall. I’ll move if I have to.”

  “Life is too short to spend it with someone you don’t love.”

  “Love is superficial and temporary. These feelings of elation pass, but marriage doesn’t. I’m not ruining my chances at a good marriage because I stupidly did stuff with another guy.”

  “And there’s that idiotic ideology. What are the chances the guy your mom picks hasn’t had a fair share of women already?”

  I paused.

  “And don’t even think the world is so eighteenth century where it’s acceptable for men to have sex when women can’t.”