by Ayesha Patel
Ty pulled away just enough to look down at me. He cupped my face and watched my lips. “I want to taste you again.”
Before I could protest, his lips were against mine, and a shiver of excitement and longing raced through me. A bright flash went off. The photographer smiled and buzzed around to other dancers.
Ty grinned. “Stupid photographer.”
He slid his hand down my thigh to take my hand, and led me out of the ballroom, through a crowded lobby, and into an elevator. Before the doors closed, he pushed me against the cold, metal wall and kissed me. His hands stroked my thighs beneath my dress, so hot and welcomed.
I didn’t care if anyone saw us. The only thing raging through my mind, sweeping across my body, was an undeniable yearning for Tyler O’Connor.
Pulling away, Ty guided me out of the elevator, wrapped an arm around my waist, and we floated down the hall and into our hotel room. He tugged off his jacket between kisses, unbuttoned his shirt as I fumbled, trying to help. We took off our shoes and then worked on his pants.
Ty snatched my hands away and gently shoved me onto the bed. He pulled off his pants but kept his eyes locked on mine. He had a determined look that promised we would make up for all the missed nights together.
Fading light filtered in through the thin layer of curtains, adding just enough to see his flexing muscles and massive thighs. Sexy boxer briefs stretched to contain him. As he crawled onto the bed over me, I crept backward. Flickers of reality sparked in my mind.
I shook my head because the words refused to emerge. My brain warned of the irrational situation, the horrid consequences that would ensue, but the fervent desires scorching my body clamped my lips tight.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice husky, ragged. He grabbed my legs behind the knees and pulled me into him. He leaned down, one hand caressing my exposed thigh, before pushing the dress up.
Ty kissed the increasing amounts of my naked flesh as I writhed and warred with reality. Before I knew it, the dress was gone, and Ty had succeeded in getting another undergarment off.
“This is why I didn’t bother telling anyone we broke up,” he muttered. “Because I knew I’d have you in my bed and back to your senses before this trip ended.”
I moaned while his tongue worked magic up and down the important parts of my quivering body. My squirming didn’t help because Ty took that as me trying to hurry him, and he liked to be in full control, tormenting me.
“Ty!”
He chuckled. “What, babe?”
I gathered his hair into a fist and tugged. “Just…”
“Just what?” He looked up from my stomach where he dragged his tongue over my belly.
I thrust up, but he was nowhere near where I wanted him to be. I tugged harder. Ty hissed and bit my hip. I clawed his back, which really sent him off the deep end. He seized my wrists and held them above my head, burying them in the pillows.
As he kissed and licked my neck, he muttered, “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I rasped, intoxicated with emotion and prepared to forfeit my fight.
“I have to hear you say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re not marrying him.” He smiled against my shivering flesh.
My heart pounded. I opened my eyes and gaped at the ceiling, at the shadows that taunted my weak morals. I gulped.
Ty stiffened and looked down at me. “Pree?”
“I can’t.”
“You’re going to marry him?”
Tears prickled my eyes. “I have to. You know that.”
His grip on my wrists tightened. “You were about to have sex with me, someone who is idiotically in love with you, and marry someone else?”
Oh, crap. That sounded really bad, didn’t it?
I swallowed hard. I’d never seen him so upset. “Ty, you’re hurting me.”
“I’m hurting you?” he growled. He leaned in, seared my soul with infuriated eyes, and seethed. “How could you do something like this?” His lips twisted as if he held back on calling me a slut, which was what I felt like at this point.
He grunted and got up.
I quickly gathered my clothes. I wanted to speak, but nothing emerged.
Ty pulled up his pants. He struggled for a moment before cursing. “I can’t stay here.”
He took two steps toward the door, then spun back around. “No, you know what? I paid for this room. You leave.”
“What?”
“Get out.”
My heart sank, but what had I expected? Ty was right. What had I been thinking? I slipped into the jeans and shirt I’d worn here and grabbed my already packed backpack. The beautiful fuchsia dress and heels remained on the floor as I hurried out of the room.
Sucking up sobs, I asked the front desk to call for a cab. The cab took me to a bus station. The bus took me to Houston where Vicki picked me up.
I huffed and got into her car. Vicki glanced over at me.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“You mean what didn’t I do? I didn’t sleep with him, and he kicked me out.”
“Oh don’t feed me that crap, Priya. He’d never do that, not unless there was something else.”
“I almost had sex with him, but we remembered I’m marrying Manuk.”
Vicki shook her head.
“I tried to stay away from him! I’ve gone so long without talking to him or making eye contact. We were doing so well, then he pulled this whole thing about ‘having’ to go to the wedding because I already agreed to, and bridezillas, and his entire family thought we were still together. They talked about how cute we were and that we should go to their house again. His little cousin thinks she’s my BFF, and the photographer took pictures of us like I was a part of their family.
“We danced and it was downhill from there. All he had to do was look at my mouth and tell me…” I stopped.
“Tell you what?”
“Stuff.”
Vicki smirked. “What sorts of things did Tyler say to get your panties wet?”
“Stuff like that,” I groaned. “Before I knew it, he was kissing me right there in front of everyone on the dance floor, then in the elevator, then in his bed. I almost slept with him.”
“What’s wrong with that? You’ve had sex with him before, and obviously you wanted to do it again.”
“The problem? I’m getting freaking engaged.”
“Your stubborn brain is the only thing keeping you engaged. Your heart, your soul, your lady parts, everything else leads you back to Tyler. I’m this close to calling your daddy.” She showed a narrow gap between her thumb and finger.
I stared out the window. Maybe if Ty didn’t get close to me again, if we managed to keep our distance, things would work out the way Mummie had planned.
“What do you think about moving?”
Vicki smacked her lips. “I love my apartment. Anyway, Tyler’s probably moving out when his lease is up in a couple of months.”
“Oh. Well, he doesn’t need to. I may be going back to Austin or Dallas next year. You can text him that.”
“So snippy? I have other friends, you know? Tyler happens to be one of them.”
“Obviously. You guys have been texting and conspiring since you met. Being engaged is as set in stone as marriage, without the sex.” I cringed.
“What are you going to do with Manuk? He’ll expect sex after the wedding, maybe before. Are you going to close your eyes and pretend you’re humping Tyler for the rest of your life?”
“Yes.” I shook my head. “I mean no! I mean I won’t be into Ty forever. I’ll get over him.”
“BS. You don’t just get over someone like Tyler, or forget about the love you guys have.”
We fell into silence until we arrived at the apartment complex and went inside. Home sweet home. For a little while, anyway.
“You don’t look good.” Vicki urged me to take a seat on the couch. When I did, she knelt and touched my forehead. “You�
�re burning up. You’ve been looking rundown a lot lately.”
“Yeah. I need to lie down.”
“Want some hot chocolate?”
I pouted. “With those tiny marshmallows?”
Vicki smiled and heated milk while I sank into the couch and pulled a throw blanket over myself. It was the blanket Ty had covered us with when we had watched K3G months ago. I remembered those first touches and hugs, and the memories made me physically sick. Like feverish flu sick, as if my body fought an invasion and was on the losing end of a macabre battle.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Tyler
I had been so pissed after the wedding that my blood boiled. Was she even serious? I had thought about going after her. In the end I hadn’t. I regretted it. How could I have kicked her out, not bothering to see if she made it safely home? Good thing Vicki had texted when she’d picked her up.
Speaking of Vicki, she invited me over today, several days after the ordeal, enough time for me to cool down, but I didn’t expect for Pree to open the door. I turned to leave, but Vicki ran to the door and yanked me inside.
“Tyler! Come in. Have lunch with me.”
“Vicki, that’s not a good idea.”
“Why? We’re still friends. If someone here doesn’t feel comfortable, she can leave.”
I shook my head but didn’t back out.
Pree went to the sofa. “No worries. We’re all fine here.”
She skimmed over a magazine like nothing had happened. I was hot, livid, but tried to play it cool as I sat on a bar stool while Vicki whipped up lunch for three. The two of us ate at the counter. Pree ate on the couch.
Vicki engaged me in conversation. I returned the banter. After all, I shouldn’t lose Vicki’s friendship over Pree. We talked about Raj and work, and I fought against looking at Pree every few minutes.
Vicki asked, “Anything else new?”
A wicked streak shot through me. “Yeah, Meagan started calling again.”
“Oh?”
“She used to call me once in a while, but now it’s all the time.”
“And?”
“No reason not to give her another try.”
“You’re going to see her?”
“Already have,” I lied.
“How’d that go?” Vicki asked, calm and undeterred. She knew I was lying.
“Good. Really good.”
“Tyler, have you…?” Vicki muttered, playing the devil’s advocate.
“Yeah. It was a long time coming.” I couldn’t help myself. Pree had broken my heart. What was I supposed to do? Brood over her? Act like some passive, self-deprecating fool in love? Mope around? Behave like her and act as if my life wasn’t being stomped to the ground? I mean, was it so bad to make her share some of the pain?
Pree stormed past us into her room. No, it didn’t make me feel any better knowing Pree suffered.
I exhaled. “Too far?”
Vicki wrinkled her nose. “Maybe. But I think she needs it.”
I went to Pree’s room, knocked, and let myself in.
“What?” Pree asked from the edge of the bed.
I closed the door behind me.
Pree looked up and crumpled a magazine in her petite hands. “Please go away.”
I didn’t move.
“I said please,” she choked out, her words falling off trembling lips.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, needing to hear her say that she still loved me, that the thought of me being with someone else killed her.
“You shouldn’t care.” She wiped her face and walked toward me. “I was right, after all.”
“In what sense?”
“What we had was nothing. See? We’ve both moved on already”
“You’re lying.”
“No. We both have someone else.”
“We haven’t moved on.”
“Yeah, we have. I hope everything works out with you two.” She reached around me to open the door, but I moved into her path.
“You’re jealous.”
“I don’t have a reason to be. I broke up with you. I’m practically engaged.”
My mouth twitched. I leaned toward her, but she didn’t back away. “So you’re happy for me?”
“Of course.”
A derisive smirk curved my lips. “Have you had sex with him?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“We’re still friends, right? You can tell me.”
“Don’t play this game.”
“What game? I can’t tell my friend that I’ve been screwing my ex?”
She stumbled back and a moment of shock crossed her face before she jumped back into this game. “I guess since we’re being open, Manuk and I won’t wait until the wedding. He’s a romantic, though, with a lot of money. So it’ll be on vacation, maybe Europe.”
I snarled. “He should be excited. You’ve had practice.”
“Like starter homes, starter sex, maybe?”
I took another step. “What?”
“At least Meagan is broken in, right?”
“You are so full of shit.”
“Don’t you have a girlfriend to harass?”
I grunted, “I sure do,” and left.
I waved at Vicki on my way out, then went to meet Steve at the bar. We threw back some drinks and danced around my situation with Pree. In the end, all Steve could say was, “Man up. Fight if she’s worth it. Otherwise, it’s time to move on.”
I’d tried to fight for her and she still pushed me away for an engagement to another man.
Maybe I did need to move on.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Priya
I drove to Austin as soon as Ty left. I didn’t have to take this from him. I needed to be away from him and spend more time with Papa.
I crashed in my old room. “Come here,” Papa said, standing in the hallway outside his bedroom.
I paused beside him at the entryway.
“I haven’t really been in here since…” His voice trailed off.
“Me neither.”
Papa went into the large master suite closet, where he pulled down a garment bag. He laid it out on the bed before unzipping it. The open flaps revealed a brilliant green lengha with gold and silver beads, glimmering zari, colored stones, and sequins that made exquisite patterns.
The quarter-sleeved bodice ended at the midsection, and the matching skirt would reach my feet. A folded dupatta lay over the hanger beneath the bodice.
I skimmed my fingers over the intricate material. How long had it taken to make this outfit by hand? Hours, days, perhaps weeks of painstaking sewing? I imagined the lengha had cost several hundred dollars.
“Was this Mummie’s?”
“No. She bought it for you.”
“For me? For my wedding?”
“For the engagement. She had a far better lengha for the wedding, but she figured you’d want a say in it.”
“When did she buy this?”
“After your first meeting with Manuk. She was confident that Manuk would be your groom.”
“She never told me.” I bit back the words as soon as they emerged. “She never told me because she was mad at me.”
Papa pulled me into his arms and rested his chin atop my head.
“She’d never been that mad at me, Papa. And she died mad at me.” The words muffled in his chest.
“Her anger wouldn’t have lasted.”
I pulled back and sat beside the lengha to zip up the bag. “You’d lie to spare me.”
“Any parent would. The fact is, you’ll never know if my words are lies, so take them for what they’re worth. Trust my words, beti.”
“Thanks.”
“You should wear it to the engagement.”
“I will, in her honor. Do you know which lengha she picked out for the wedding?”
“Yes. It’s on hold downtown in Houston.”
“Of course it is.” I smiled. “Is it terribly expensive?”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t. When we’re buying, money isn’t important. Anyway, Manuk offered to pay for everything. You can discuss that with him, although it doesn’t matter if you don’t want it.”
“I will honor her wishes.”
Papa patted my head as if I were still a little girl on his lap. “Are you sure about this?”
“The lengha? Sure. Mummie had great taste in clothes. Expensive, but great taste.”
“No. I mean, are you certain you want to marry Manuk?”
“Yes. Mummie picked out an excellent husband.”
“Hmm.” He looked away thoughtfully.
“Manuk is nice.” That was all I could say. The truth was minimal.
“How are your friends in Houston? I haven’t seen the girls since, well, since the funeral.”
“Tulsi is good. I think Jeeta will decide on her engagement this summer. Vicki is happy planning her own wedding.”
“That’s good to hear. How is Tyler?”
“He’s good. We don’t see each other much with work and all.”
“I hope to see all of them soon. Will you be inviting him to the engagement?”
“No. It’s for family and close friends. We’re not friends anymore. The girls are coming.”
“Hmm.” He walked off, lost in thought again.
As if on cue, Manuk called on my cell. “Hello, Priya, haven’t heard from you in a while.”
“Been busy,” I replied.
“Are you at home?”
“At my dad’s house. What’s up?”
“Thought we could meet up in Austin and check out some wedding places, get things rolling.”
“Before the engagement? Daring, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “I want to come early for the engagement and stay late. Your dad said it was okay. Are you able to take the time off?”
“An entire week? I doubt it.”
“For your own engagement?”
“It’s not the wedding. Americans aren’t that elaborate about engagements. They don’t usually have an engagement ceremony that is just as long as the wedding.”