15. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Taking Him Home
Aubrey
I’ve never seen someone’s pupils literally turn to slits before, but watching Sundar transform from “sexy shopkeeper” to “ancient temple guardian ready to throw down” is doing things to me. Things that are completely inappropriate for a nice restaurant where a were-puppy was just using his tail as a chew toy.
Derek’s presence feels like ice water down my back, but Sundar’s tail wraps protectively around my ankle under the table, grounding me. The contrast between them is almost laughable—Derek in his trying-too-hard Armani suit versus Sundar’s effortless power, practically radiating from every gleaming scale.
“I didn’t realize you were into exotic dining experiences now,” Derek says, managing to make it sound like I’m doing something shameful instead of eating really good fusion food with an incredibly hot naga.
Before my brain can spiral into that familiar pit of Derek-induced shame, Sundar’s voice cuts through the tension. “I wasn’t aware proper dining etiquette included interrupting other patrons’ meals.” His accent gets more pronounced when he’s angry, turning his words into something ancient and dangerous.
Derek’s face does this interesting thing where it tries to go red and pale at the same time. “I don’t believe I was speaking to you—”
“And yet here you are,” Sundar interrupts smoothly. “I find it curious that someone so concerned with appearances would display such poor manners in public.”
The way he says “poor manners” makes it sound like a capital offense. Which, given his whole temple guardian background, it might actually be.
Derek’s laugh is ugly. “Come on, Aubrey. This is a bit desperate, even for you. What, did he offer to pay off your debts in exchange for—”
Sundar moves faster than I can track. One moment he’s seated across from me, the next he’s somehow at his full height, cobra hood flared. His tail never leaves my ankle, but the rest of him towers over Derek, golden eyes literally glowing.
“Choose your next words very carefully,” Sundar says softly. “They may be your last in this establishment.”
The restaurant has gone silent. Derek takes an instinctive step back, his carefully maintained facade cracking.
And then something in me just… snaps.
“You know what, Derek?” I stand up, moving to Sundar’s side. “You’re right. This is exactly the kind of place I couldn’t afford when we were dating. Because you convinced me I didn’t deserve nice things unless they came with your approval attached.”
My voice shakes a little, but Sundar puts an arm around my waist, and I feel strong enough again to continue, “But here’s the thing—I deserve better than someone who measures my worth by my bank account. And I definitely deserve better than someone who interrupts my date just to try to make me feel small again.”
Derek’s mouth opens and closes, but for once, he doesn’t have a snobby response ready. Maybe because this is the first time I’ve ever really stood up to him. Or maybe because there’s a very large, very protective naga radiating centuries’ worth of don’t-fuck-with-us energy right next to me.
“Now if you’ll excuse us,” I say, amazed at how steady my voice sounds, “we were in the middle of dinner.”
Something in my tone must finally penetrate Derek’s thick skull, because he actually backs away, muttering something about “having better things to do,” which I highly doubt.
As Sundar and I settle back into our booth, I realize my hands are shaking. Not from fear this time, but from adrenaline, from pride, from the heady feeling of finally saying what I’ve wanted to say for months.
“Are you all right?” Sundar asks quietly, his eyes still tracking Derek’s retreat.
“I think I am, actually.” I take a deep breath, then reach for my wine glass. “Though I could definitely use this.”
After I take a long sip, I notice Sundar watching me closely. “What?”
“You continue to surprise me,” he says, his accent still thick with emotion. “Your strength, your resilience—” He pauses, collecting himself. “That man is fortunate I’m no longer bound by temple guardian laws.”
“Why? What would those laws have allowed?”
“Let’s just say that in my day, those who showed such disrespect rarely walked away intact.” He smiles slightly. “Though your handling of the situation was far more elegant than anything I might have done.”
“Elegant? I’m pretty sure I’m still shaking.” To prove my point, I hold up my trembling hand. “God, I can’t believe I actually stood up to him. I’ve been wanting to do that for months.”
Sundar captures my shaking hand in his, his scales cool against my skin. “You were magnificent.”
How he says it—like it’s just an obvious fact—makes something warm unfurl in my chest. Before I can overthink it, I blurt out, “Come home with me tonight.”
He goes still. “Really?”
“I just… I want you to see where I live. Meet Maggie. See the real me.”
He studies me for a long moment, then brings my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to my palm that makes me feel all fuzzy. “I would be honored.”
“Even though my apartment is basically a shoebox compared to yours?”
“Even then.” His tongue flicks out briefly against my wrist. “Though I should warn you, I take up considerably more space than the average human visitor.”
I smile. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”
The elevator in my building has never felt smaller than it does right now, with fifteen feet of gorgeous naga tail coiled beside me. Sundar’s taken to looping his tail in efficient circles to save space, but there’s still barely room for the two of us. Not that I’m complaining about the proximity.
“Sorry about the tight squeeze,” I say. “The building’s not exactly monster-accommodating.”
“I don’t mind,” Sundar replies, his tail subtly shifting closer. The elevator’s fluorescent lighting catches the gold in his scales, making them shimmer. It’s deeply unfair how he manages to look good even under these awful lights.
“Oh, shit,” I say before pulling my phone out of my purse. “I should really warn Maggie.”
He nods. “By all means.”
I pull up the message app and start typing furiously: INCOMING. I’m bringing Sundar home. PLEASE BE WEARING PANTS.
Maggie responds in quick succession:
HOLY SHIT WHAT
GIVE ME 1 MIN TO HIDE THE EMBARRASSING PHOTOS
Wait does he need like… special accommodations??? Do we have enough floor space???
OMG IS HE READING THIS OVER YOUR SHOULDER
“Your heart rate has increased,” Sundar observes, making me jump. “Are you nervous?”
“What? No. Maybe. A little.” I shove my phone in my pocket. “It’s just… my place isn’t exactly the palace your apartment is. And Maggie’s idea of tidying up usually involves shoving everything under the couch and hoping for the best.”
His hand finds the small of my back. “Aubrey. I spent centuries living in musty, dark temples. I assure you, I have no expectations of luxury.”
“Right, but that was centuries ago. Now you have that gorgeous minimalist apartment with the—”
The elevator dings open, and we both have to shuffle awkwardly to get out without his tail getting caught in the doors.
“—with the fancy cushions and the mood lighting,” I finish lamely, leading him down the hall. “Meanwhile, our idea of mood lighting is the weird lamp Maggie found at a yard sale that sometimes flickers in time to our neighbor’s music.”
“That sounds fascinating, actually.”
“You say that now, but wait until you see it doing the macarena.”
We reach my door, and I hesitate with my key in the lock. “Just… remember that we’re poor millennials doing our best, okay?”
Sundar leans down to murmur in my ear, “The only thing I care about seeing is more of your world, Aubrey.”
The way he says my name could set fire-retardant panties ablaze. But before I can do something inappropriate in the hallway, I press on, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
“Welcome to Casa del Chaos,” I announce, flicking on the light in the entryway—if you can even call it that. It’s more like a four-foot-by-four-foot place to dump all our shoes. “Please ignore any dirty dishes, random craft supplies, or mysterious stains. We’re still arguing about whether that one in the corner is wine or blood.”
“It’s wine!” Maggie’s voice calls from her bedroom. “Probably!”
Sundar enters behind me, his tail somehow managing to look graceful even as he navigates our cramped entryway. His head nearly brushes our ceiling, and I suddenly see our apartment through his eyes—the mismatched furniture, the flickering lighting, the shaggy old carpet.
But instead of judgment, his expression holds genuine curiosity as he takes it all in. His tail makes a slow sweep of the living room, carefully avoiding the precarious stack of books by the TV that Maggie swears is “an art installation, not clutter.”
“This space…” he says thoughtfully, “it feels lived in. Warm.”
“That’s a very polite way of saying it’s a mess.”
“I mean it.” His hand finds mine. “There’s a lot of personality here.”
“Is that what we’re calling my collection of novelty mugs now? ‘Personality’?”
Before he can respond, Maggie emerges from her room like she’s making a grand entrance on a reality show. She’s changed into what she calls her “first impression outfit,” which basically means she’s wearing makeup and real pants instead of her usual day job uniform or pajamas.
“So!” She claps her hands together, barely concealing her nervous energy. “The famous Sundar in our humble abode. It’s weird seeing you without a display case between us.”
“Maggie.” Sundar inclines his head politely, though I catch the slight flare of his hood that means he’s amused. “I was surprised how quickly those anime figurines you traded in flew off the shelves.”
“Oh my God, he remembers!” Maggie shoots me a delighted look. “See, this is why I told you to go to his shop. His customer service game is on point.”
“I remember all my customers,” Sundar says smoothly. “Particularly those who try to convince me their collectibles are ‘basically ancient artifacts.’”
“Hey, that Sailor Moon figure was vintage!”
“I believe your exact words were ‘practically prehistoric.’”
“Well, the 90s were like thirty years ago… which is kind of terrifying to think about, at least for me.” Maggie then cocks her head and smiles. “Anyway, wow. Who would have ever thought me trying to offload my ex’s anime figure collection would lead to you dating my best friend?” She sighs dreamily then looks at me. “You’re welcome, by the way. I expect to be mentioned in the wedding toast.”
I choke on air, not quite ready for the topic of weddings. “Maggie!”
“What? I’m just saying, I have excellent matchmaking instincts.” She backs toward her room with an exaggerated wink. “And now I’m going to exercise those instincts by making myself scarce. I suddenly remembered I have that… thing. At that place. With those people.”
“Subtle,” I mutter.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she calls over her shoulder. “Which, let’s be real, leaves you with a lot of options!”
Her door closes with a flourish, leaving me alone with Sundar in our cramped living room. The silence stretches for a moment before his chest vibrates with suppressed laughter.
“So,” I say, turning to him. “That’s Maggie in her natural habitat. Now, let me show you my sanctuary. It’s the one place Maggie’s chaos hasn’t completely invaded.”
My room isn’t large, but I’ve made it mine in ways the rest of the apartment can’t be. Fairy lights cast a soft glow over my collection of vintage postcards, each one showing a different city I dream of visiting. My grandmother’s old vanity sits in one corner, its surface covered in carefully arranged treasures: sea glass from childhood beach trips, ticket stubs from concerts, pictures of old friends.
Sundar moves through my space with careful grace, his tail sliding in behind us. I watch his expression as he takes in these pieces of me, these small collections that tell my story. His eyes linger on the shelf of books above my bed, all worn paperbacks and dogeared favorites.
“It’s weird having you here,” I admit softly. “In my space. After being in yours.”
He turns to me, his expression softening. “Good weird or bad weird?”
“Good weird. Definitely good weird.” I perch on the edge of my bed, smoothing the comforter nervously. “Just… vulnerable weird? Like, this is really me. All my stuff, all my memories. It’s a little messy. It’s definitely not worth anything. But it’s everything.”
His tail brushes against my ankle, gentle and reassuring. “I see you, Aubrey. All of you.”
“Yeah?” I look up at him, heart pounding. “Even after watching me nearly cry over stupid Derek? God, I can’t believe he showed up like that.”
“You handled him beautifully.” Sundar moves closer, and the temperature in the room seems to rise. “Though I admit, seeing you stand up to him…” His eyes gleam. “It was incredibly attractive.”
“Oh, really?” I reach for him, fingers trailing over his scales. “You liked watching me get all fierce, huh?”
“I liked watching you realize your own worth.” His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “Somehow, it’s made me want you even more. I hadn’t even realized that was possible.”
“Stay with me tonight,” I whisper suddenly. “I want you here, in my bed. I want to fall asleep wrapped up in you and wake up tomorrow knowing this is real.”
His pupils dilate completely, turning his eyes almost black. “As if I could deny you anything.”
When he kisses me again, it’s with an intensity that makes me melt.
And as his tail slides beneath my dress, I realize that maybe being vulnerable isn’t so scary after all.
Not when you’re with someone who sees all of you and still wants you anyway.