Chapter Fifteen
Zoya gathered her paints and trudged the short distance to her childhood home. With Asad and Rehaan at the office, and Samar off somewhere with Priya, the place was empty. She was certain her key would fail, that she'd have resort to tossing a rock through a window, but she decided to give it a try anyway. Click.
Shocked, some of her anger draining"this had to mean something, right?"she headed straight to her old room, which was saturated with a scent she now recognized as Asad's. An-n-nd back came her anger. Her emotions were clearly in turmoil, and she desperately needed an outlet. The few canvases she had in the RV weren't enough. Nor was the RV itself.
She covered the floor and all the furniture with plastic, dragged in the stepladder she found in the hall closet and squeezed the desired paints onto her palette.
Shaking with the need to create, she worked her brush furiously over the walls.
Whatever the dark slashing lines ended up becoming, Asad would surely hate it, just because it was different. Not that she cared. The alternative to painting was staking him to an anthill. Before staking herself! She'd abandoned her rules for one night"one hour"in his arms. And yes, he'd pleasured her in ways she hadn't known were possible. His kiss, expert. His touch, masterful. His body, tailor-made for hers. She'd been lost, adrift, and he'd been her only anchor. Breathing had mattered only because she'd shared his breath.
And then, the ecstasy and agony she'd experienced when he'd kissed her scars... He'd been so reverent, so adoring, had even called her a treasure. But all along he'd planned to gift wrap her for another man.
With a screech, she threw a glob of black paint at the wall.
He'd said, If I could commit, it would be with you. I've never wanted a woman the way I want you. But I'm just not hardwired that way.
Then and now, the words popped the balloon of her fury, leaving only confusion. Why did he believe he couldn't commit? Did he not realize he had already committed to her? At least in part. He could have ditched her at any time, but again and again he'd cared for her. And hadn't he admitted to missing her when she wasn't with him?
Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be with her for more than a night. Maybe he was just afraid to put a label on it. He had attachment issues in spades, after all. And why not? Throughout the course of his life, he'd lost everyone and everything he'd ever loved. Except for Rehaan and Samar, of course, but he might not realize just how deeply his commitment to them ran. Might only disdain commitment in the romantic sense.
Tears welled in her eyes, a sense of hopelessness driving her to throw another glob of paint. Stability still mattered to her, would always matter to her, and she wasn't going to get it from Asad. But what he'd said was true. Pride wouldn't comfort her. Pride wouldn't keep her warm at night, or pleasure her so sweetly.
To be with him, she might have to sacrifice her dreams and definitely put her pride on the line. She'd have to fight for him, and fight dirty. She'd also have to watch him date other women while she pretended to go along with his silly plan to date other men. She shuddered with distaste.
I want him. Only him. I maybe even...
Her mind shied away from the L word. Love was all-consuming, all-encompassing, an action just as much as an emotion. Love gave rather than took, placing another's needs above her own.
A strange buzzing noise drew her attention, and she frowned as she looked around. A red light flashed in the corner of her cell phone. Since Asad had gifted her with it, she'd only used it for research, but she'd had one before her mother died. She knew a text had just come in.
As she climbed down the stepladder and backed away from the wall, she surveyed what she'd created so far. A midnight sky with a full blood moon. Thick purple-tinted clouds rippled, and she could almost feel the vibration of thunder. Several bolts of lightning glowed ominously.
Not bad. Even with the chaotic black holes she'd unintentionally crafted.
She cleaned her hands with a rag and grabbed her phone, her jaw clenching as she read the screen.
Baby: What did 1 ocean say 2 another ocean?
Asad must have programmed in the nickname, the jerk. Seeing it caused tears to return to her eyes. This man amused her, challenged her on a level she hadn't known she needed, and whether he would admit it or not, he utterly adored her.
She couldn't give him up. She just couldn't.
Decision made. She would fight for him, whatever the cost.
As a heavy weight lifted from her shoulders, she typed, What?
Baby: Nothing, they just waved
Her lips twitched.
Her: Ugh! So cheesy!
Baby: Don't B such a beach
She laughed out loud.
Baby: U just LOL'd. Don't deny it.
She spun around, making sure he hadn't sneaked into the room.
Her: I laughed at U, not w/U
Baby: Harsh. Hey, would U rather get UR foot stuck in a bear trap or invite me over 4 din 2night?
"That depends," she told the phone. "Are you going to try to set me up with another man while we're together?"
But she typed: Sure, come over. I've decided 2 get on board w/UR plan.
Just not the way you hope, she silently added.
She waited one minute, two, but he never replied. Don't like my ready agreement, Mr. Khan?
A girl could hope. And Zoya did. It was the only life raft in the middle of a great and terrible storm.
She added:
Here R my requirements 4 my new man. 1) Ratibad resident 2) Employed 3) Honest 4) Kind 5) Hates beige
Again, there was no response.
So she continued:
Oh, & 1 more thing. Any date U set up, U have 2 attend. Alone. I don't like strangers. U'll B my bodyguard.
Smiling, she set the phone aside and approached the only wall she hadn't yet covered with paint.
"Perhaps it was time to create a sunny summer day."
* * *
"Asad."
Samar's voice wrenched Zoya out of the dark mire of his thoughts, and he glanced up.
"What?"
Samar and Rehaan occupied the seats in front of his desk. They'd seen him this morning, soon after he'd left Zoya's RV to call a private investigator he'd used in the past. His determination to find out who'd hurt her hadn't lessened. He'd been stomping around the house, cursing under his breath, and they had followed him to work to do some sort of intervention.
"At least he looks human again," Rehaan said. "Or he did, for a few minutes. Now he's back to beast mode."
Asad set his phone aside and tried not to think of Zoya's last round of texts. Tried...and failed miserably. She'd already forgotten the pleasure he had given her.
She expected him to watch another man seduce her"and not end up in jail? The pencil snapped in his hand, and he tossed the pieces across the room.
"And we've lost him again," Samar muttered.
Asad ran a hand through his hair, gritting out, "Thanks to Priya, I've got to find Zoya a date."
"That's what this is about?" Rehaan exclaimed. "Dude. Just tell Priya no."
Samar gave him a pitying smile. "You want to tell her no, fine. But she'll just take matters into her own hands."
Asad leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. "I won't tell her no. Zoya wants a husband, and I want her happy."
"The way I hear it, she wants a commitment from you," Samar said, "but that doesn't necessarily mean marriage."
"What's your problem with marriage, anyway?" Rehaan asked, clearly forgetting his own apprehension with it. "We all know marriage for the sake of marriage never works, but two people who care for each other can succeed at anything."
"Uh, that's not actually true," Asad said. Rehaan had cared about Nisha the girl he loved, and Nisha had cared about Rehaan, but he'd still lost her.
Asad had never believed that Nisha's car accident was due to heavy rain. He'd seen the hopeless despair in Nisha's eyes when she'd left the apartment he and Rehaan shared. His friend was drunk and forgotten to throw her a Birthday party, and she'd finally snapped, driving her car into a street lamp. She'd often talked about needing a break from the misery. A cry for help neither of them had heeded.
Why set himself up for similar pain?
"I don't want to talk about this," he said.
Samar picked up one of the photos Asad had framed and brought to work. One of a young Zoya sitting in a tire swing, smiling at whoever held the camera. Her Ammi, most likely. "I'm the one who spent nine years in jail, but it's you two who makes me feel are suffering from some mental health."
"Anything for you," Rehaan said, patting Asad on the back.
"Just shut up and help me pick a man for Zoya." Asad gripped the arms of his chair with so much force he expected the entire thing to crumble. Right now, the only hope he had of returning to the life he'd once known was losing interest in Zoya, and the only way to make that happen was to follow through with Priya's plan. "Only the best for her."
He hated this, but he would do it right. And in the end, Asad wasn't the best. Not for her, not for anyone. He simply wasn't enough.
"What about Atul Gupta of S&S Financial?" Rehaan splayed his arms, all meet your solution. "He runs his own company, makes a ton of money and is recently divorced."
Can't shake the life out of my friend for doing what I asked. "He's not the one."
Samar unveiled a slow grin. "Please. Do tell why he is not good enough?."
"Did you not hear Rehaan?Atul is recently divorced. He didn't fight to keep his marriage together, which means he has no real sticking power. Therefore he's not the one for Zoya. Next."
"What about the new guy who hired me to do the video game?" Rehaan suggested. "He saw some of Zoya's sketches and had an instant attraction towards her."
"No." Asad had spent a lot of time with the guy, coaxing him into choosing Rehaan rather than some other computer genius. "He's indecisive."
"And that's a hard limit for Zoya?" Samar laughed outright. "Face it, my man, you don't want her with anyone but yourself."
Asad leaped to his feet, his hands curling into fists. The urge to punch a hole in the wall was strong, overwhelming, and what the hell was he doing? He eased back down, the answer pretty plain. "What about Armaan Malik?" Armaan didn't live in Ratibad Valley, but he met Zoya's other criteria.
Rehaan whistled. "The guy's perfect for anyone. If I was a man, I'd be all over him."
"I remember Armaan." Samar cracked his knuckles. "Keep him away from Priya. Women look at him and experience that, what's it called, love at first sight."
True, but he wasn't a player. Like Rehaan, he was choosey. But unlike Asad and Rehaan, he preferred commitment. He would have married his high school sweetheart, if she hadn't died from cancer.
Asad had spent a summer with him years ago, both of them fostered by the same family. They'd liked each other from minute one and had kept in touch over the years.
Fighting the urge to throw his phone across the office, Asad picked it up and made the call.
"* * *
Zoya expected Asad to come knocking at her door. Not because she'd agreed to spend the evening with him, but because of what she'd done to his bedroom walls. When the entrance swung open, however, he wasn't glowering at her. He smiled and held out a bouquet of pink and white flowers.
"For you."
What the...? "Uh, thank you?" Trying to coax her from her earlier upset? She accepted the gift, a sweet scent teasing her nose. "What are they for?"
"Do I need a reason?"
Yes! But she nibbled on her bottom lip and shook her head.
"They reminded me of you," he said then. "Soft and pretty, delicate and dewy."
"Have you not been home?"
"No, why?"
"Well, uh... I kind of painted my"your bedroom walls."
He frowned. "Kind of?"
"Fine. Definitely painted."
"Why would you do that? I liked my room the way it was."
"So? You'll like it better now."
"I won't."
"Well, you can suck it," she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
The frown morphed into a scowl. "Grab your paints. If you have to work all night, you'll work all night, but those walls will be beige by morning."
"Not even in your dreams. You were willing to keep my paintings when you first moved in."
"But now I'm used to beige."
Frustrating man. "We'll talk about the walls tomorrow."
"Zoya""
"Priya came by, saw what I'd done, and asked if I'd paint a mural at her house. She knows talent when she sees it."
"Did you tell her no, you already have a job?"
"Please. I said yes so fast I broke records. I will work for food."
He went still, sniffed the air. "Did she give you a pie , Zoya?"
"No," she said, and his shoulders drooped with disappointment. "I have two pies. I haven't painted the mural yet, but I demanded an advance."
He pushed his way inside instantly. "Blueberry and apple. Good girl."
She filled two bowls, then joined him at her small table. One bite, and they both moaned. Waiting had been difficult, almost impossible, but somehow she'd managed it, wanting to share this moment with him. And now she was glad she had.
He winked over at her, his brown eyes sparkling.
She smiled at him, unable to help herself.
He reached for her, only to drop his hand before contact. Stiffening, he looked somewhere over her shoulder. "So... I found you a guy."
Denial rose like a tidal wave. "So soon?"
"Yeah. His name's Armaan. I'll get you a laptop so you can look him up on Google. Girls are doing that nowadays."
"Great. Wonderful."
"You should see the pictures people have posted of me. In fact"" He withdrew his phone. "We'll look now."
"No, thanks. Let's keep this about Armaan," she said, just to poke at him.
His eyes narrowed, but he stored the phone. "I've known him since I was fifteen. He's a fireman, and according to the girl who lived next door to our foster family, totally a hunk. He's smart, kind and honest to a fault, but he lives in the city. If that's a deal breaker for you..."
"No," she said. Zoya wanted to play this game, so they would play.
"Take some time, think about it." He threw down his fork, the metal clanging against the glass bowl. "We don't have to talk about this now. I know it upsets you."
Upsets her? "No, no," she said. "Tell me more about him."
Asad pushed his bowl aside, as if he'd lost his appetite, a reaction that thrilled her to her soul.
He couldn't stand the thought of her with another guy, could he?
He scratched his chest, saying, "Want to watch TV? There's gotta be something good on." He tromped back to the bedroom and threw himself on the bed.
"Damn it," he said a few seconds later. "I've got pie on my shirt."
"Go shirtless." Please.
To torment him, she finished her dessert"and enjoyed another slice"before joining him in the bedroom. He'd gotten comfortable, kicking off his shoes and yes, he'd removed his shirt. The sight of him arrested her. He was more than pure seduction and total temptation"he was a dream come true. His pecs were rock-solid, his stomach roped and lined.
How was she supposed to keep her hands to herself?
Better question: How was he?
Almost defiantly, she toed off her shoes and climbed in beside him. "Move over."
He obeyed without protest, even stretching out his arm in an invitation for her to cuddle close.
An invitation she accepted, resting her head against his chest. His heart was racing, pounding like a war drum, pandering to her hope.
She would not make the first move. She wouldn't! But she also wouldn't make this easy on him. "I like the name Armaan."
"Most girls do." His finger jabbed at the remote, switching channels.
"It's sexy."
Another new channel. "It's stupid. Armaan is such an old fashioned name."
Clicked to another new channel, this one a skin flick, filling the room with sounds of heavy breathing, rustling sheets and whining mattress springs, making her pulse jump and her insides go liquid.
She swiped the remote out of his hand and switched off the TV. "Let's play a game."
"Good idea." He toyed with the ends of her hair. "I know how much you like to imagine yourself as other people. The stripper, for instance."
"You can stop right there. I am not stripping for you."
"As if I don't know that. I'm suggesting a role-play. You're a stripper who's just fallen off the pole. I'm a doctor, and I need to give you a very thorough exam to ensure you're able to return to work tomorrow."
She smacked him in the chest. "I'll save that game for my new boyfriend, thanks."
His lips pursed. "Fine. Let's play the quiet game."
"I lose. Let's talk. Vineet is back from his military tour, and he's superhot." Both statements were true; she simply left out the part about Khushi going on a date with him. "He lives in Ratibad Valley. Maybe I should call him instead of meeting your friend Armaan."
Asad clamped the back of her neck in a hard clasp before releasing her. "I've seen Vineet around town, and I'm pretty sure I heard a rumor he stole food from Ratibad Valley Community Center."
"Wouldn't that make him perfect for me, considering I'm a reformed pie thief? Anyway, the center gives food away for free."
"I still don't trust him. I'll look into him, but until then, I don't want you anywhere near him."
Protesting too much, baby? "I hate to break it to you, Mr. Khan, but you aren't the boss."
"Actually, Miss Faaruqui, I am. You work for me. Basically, I own your soul."
She gave him another smack in the chest. "I mean you're not the boss of my personal life."
"How dare you." He caught her wrist and, with a firm tug, pulled her across his body and tickled her under her arms. "I'm the boss of your personal life. Say it."
"No," she managed as she laughed uncontrollably. "Never!"
"Say it."
"Stop...stop...please stop." She flung herself to the other side of the bed, but he just followed her over, the tickling more intense. "I'm going to pee!"
"That will be embarrassing for you. What are the magic words?"
"You're...you're in charge..."
The tickling instantly stopped. "Of?"
Zoya's chest heaved, and she struggled to catch her breath. "You're in charge of...of..." When finally she felt capable of movement, she dived to the floor, calling, "You're in charge of nothing!"
A mock growl left him, and he stood. "You'll pay for that, dumpling."
She scrambled to her feet and backed away from him. Struggling not to laugh all over again, she held out her hands to ward him off, but he just kept coming. From the corner of her eye, she spotted the second pie. The apple. The one he hadn't yet tasted.
She swiped it up, saying, "Come any closer and the pie gets trashed!"
Abject horror shone from his face. "That's taking things too far, Zoya Faaruqui. Too far!"
"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry." Gently she returned the pie to the counter, blew it an apology kiss, and then used her hands to form the letter T. "Time out."
He crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't call a time out, not in matters of love and war."
"Shows what you know I just did." She walked to the fridge, thought for a moment, and grabbed two of Asad's beers, popping the tops and turning to face him. "Time in. Come any closer, and the beers get trashed."
He barked out a laugh, but quickly blanked his features. "Not my favorite beers," he said, rubbing his chin with two fingers. "Anything but my favorite beers... But I just can't seem to stay away from you." One step, two...he approached her.
"I'll do it. I'll pour them out." She held them over the sink.
"Do it, and things will get ugly. I won't be responsible for my actions."
"Oh, yeah?" She placed her thumb over the tops, shook the bottles and, as his eyes widened, sprayed him with the exploding liquid.
When the fizz ran out, he licked the drops from his mouth. "Well, now," he said, his tone even. "I guess things are gonna get ugly." And then he advanced.
He easily confiscated the beers and repeated her actions, shaking them and spraying her with what remained. Laughing hysterically, Zoya tried to escape. He merely backed her into a corner, dropped the bottles and held her in place with one hand while switching on the sink faucet with the other. He doused her from head to toe with water, and after she'd screamed and laughed in outrage, he stepped back to study his handiwork, nodding with satisfaction
His focused went on her heaving bosoms. "You look so sexy ." Husky voice, a little slurred, as if the beer had gone to his head.
Her amusement died, and she began to pant. "Look away."
"I can't." He planted his palms on the cabinets beside her temples, caging her in. Counter behind her, aroused male in front of her.
"Say yes, and I'll kiss you from head to toe."
Her mouth went dry, and her knees . A moment of pleasure awaited her...but only a moment.
He'd just set her up with another man; she had to resist him. "No," she whispered. "My date..."
Fury clouded his eyes before he spun away from her. "Your date. Right."
"You did this, Asad.You. No one else."
"You should thank me. He's Mr. Perfect. Everything I'm not."
"What does that mean?"
"Doesn't mean a damn thing."
Feeling sad for him"for them"she sighed and said, "I think that's the problem. It never does with you."
Book Talk
Ye Hai Mohabbatein
45