CHAPTER 27
Dev
I’m more afraid of facing a house full of aunties than I am of climbing into my car before a race.
Alisha’s wedding will be in Malibu – a three-hour drive from San Diego – so I optimistically thought that would prevent our family from descending on us at home in the weeks leading up to the big day. Unfortunately, it seems like everyone has decided to join us here, and I can’t escape.
Every time I try, I’m cornered and interrogated about where I’m going and what I’m doing with my life and when I plan to settle down. If I wasn’t making so much money, they’d also be complaining about my non-traditional career choice – a.k.a. anything other than doctor or lawyer or engineer. Even so, they still lob underhanded comments about how Dad encouraged me to follow my racing dreams.
Thankfully, Mom comes to my defence whenever she hears those remarks. She’s good at reminding them that I’m more successful than the majority of our family members. She also can’t help but throw in a little humble bragging, either, about how at least one of her kids is following in her footsteps of being a doctor.
It’s been a week of this. A week of being trailed by little cousins and accosted by uncles wanting Grand Prix tickets. A week of making wedding favours and pulling out my credit card to pay for last-minute additions. A week of being forced apart from Willow.
I knew the transition from spending most of our time together to having to keep our distance would be hard, but this has been fucking torture, especially knowing she’s just next door.
Oakley, on the other hand, I’ve seen plenty of. He got pushed into helping out with wedding stuff too, while Willow lucked out and found herself being invited along on shopping trips with my mom and hanging out with Alisha to do whatever brides do before they get married.
As grateful as I am for the time with Oak, it’s killing me not to blurt out, ‘Hey, man, I’m in love with your sister, and for some bizarre reason, she loves me back. Please don’t break my ribs.’
Yeah. I’m suffering.
‘I can’t believe you roped me and Chava into dancing at the garba night,’ Oakley grumbles for the millionth time as we stuff trinkets into tote bags monogrammed with Alisha’s and her fiancé’s initials. We’re sitting in my parents’ living room, raising our voices over the sound of cackling aunties and shrieking kids. ‘How come you’re not making Mark do it?’
‘Because he’s a little too’ – I point at my palm – ‘for that.’
‘You and I are literally half white,’ Oakley says, scoffing. ‘How do you know I didn’t get my dad’s horrible sense of rhythm and his love of Steely Dan?’
‘You lose your mind every time a Panjabi MC song comes on. Stop acting like you’re not excited about this.’ I shove a box of horrendously expensive chocolate truffles into a bag. ‘Besides, do you really want to witness Mark trying to shoulder shimmy?’
Oakley grimaces, surely imagining our extremely long-limbed friend attempting it, just like I am. ‘All right, never mind. No one needs to see that.’
No, they don’t. To be honest, I don’t want to be seen dancing either. The guest list is huge, and there’s no way clips of me won’t end up on the internet minutes after we finish our performance.
Shit, with my luck, it’ll probably be live streamed. Maybe I can beat them all to the punch and have Willow do it. If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, right?
Again, for what must be the millionth time today, my thoughts shift to her. Our date last week feels like a lifetime ago, and if I don’t get her alone in the next twenty-four hours, I might combust. But the only way to do that is if I sneak out of here tonight – and sneaking out of a house full of nosy aunties? Forget it.
As Oakley continues to shove favours into bags and complain about it, I pull out my phone and send a text to Willow.
Dev:I’m coming over later. Leave the hall window unlocked
Her response comes within seconds.
Willow:When exactly is later?
Dev:Just don’t go to bed early
All I get in return is a string of question marks, but I don’t bother to reply. She’ll see what I mean tonight.
‘Who’s got you smiling at your phone like that?’
My head snaps up. Oakley squints at me, top lip lifted in a hint of a sneer, but there’s a curiosity behind it all. Shit.
Clearing my throat, I lock my phone and slip it back into my pocket. ‘Just the drivers’ group chat. Thomas was saying stupid shit again.’
Oakley grunts in response, though I can’t tell if he believes my lie. Thankfully, we’re interrupted when Alisha bursts through the front door, struggling under the weight of what looks like fifty garment bags.
‘Any one of you fuckers want to help me?’ she huffs, glaring at us, then at the other guys sitting around.
‘Language,’ Mom snaps as she comes in the door behind Alisha, but her expectant gaze lands on me. ‘Well? Are you going to help or sit there like lumps?’
Oakley is the first to scramble up. He mumbles an apology to my mother and swoops in to help Alisha. I don’t miss the sidelong glance he gives her, lingering just a moment too long. He used to be more obvious about it, back when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. But I was.
He’s had a thing for my sister for ever, even if he’d never admit it, and I never pressed the issue. It wasn’t like Alisha was ever going to look his way. Being five years older than us and (unfortunately) cooler than we could ever dream of being, she was so out of his league they were playing different sports. Guess that’s why I just ignored it.
It gives me leverage when it comes to the Willow situation, though. He can’t blame me for falling for his sister when he obviously fell for mine. And here he is, still looking at her like that a week before her wedding . . . Yeah, I’ll use it for ammunition if I have to.
I just hope it won’t come to that.
——
By midnight, the house is quiet. The aunties have been a rowdy bunch the past few nights, staying up until two and three in the morning, but maybe they’ve finally gotten it out of their systems. Better for me. At least Willow won’t have to stay up half the night waiting.
After sneaking downstairs and through to the dark kitchen, I peek out the back door and across the yard. Lo and behold, Willow’s bedroom light is still on. The rest of the Williamses’ house is dark. Hopefully that means I won’t have any run-ins tonight.
With one last glance over my shoulder, I head out into the backyard. I slip around to the side and stick close to our shared fence, then dart onto their property. I’ve done this so many times, it’s like muscle memory. Except it’s only ever been to sneak in to play video games with Oakley past our curfews. Never to sneak in to (fingers crossed) do something less than wholesome with his sister.
Once I’ve made it to the Williamses’ house without setting off the motion-activated floodlight, I reach for the wisteria-covered trellis that stops just under the window of the upstairs hallway – the window I told Willow to leave unlocked for me. Now I’ve just got to hope she did.
I start my climb, putting one hand over the other and hooking my sneakers into the holes of the lattice that I swear have gotten significantly smaller since the last time I did this. Then again, the last time I did this, I was probably fifteen. Fuck, I’m too old for this shit.
Still, I make it up to the window without breaking a sweat and hold my breath as I shove up the glass pane. It moves without a sound.
I may be a little less than graceful as I slip through the opening and essentially somersault onto the soft carpet that, thankfully, dulls the volume of my impact. I’m in. And it looks like I’m in the clear since the lights are still out and no one is—
Oh, fuck. I’m not in the clear. I forgot all about one family member. The worst of them all.
I forgot about Herman.
The St Bernard is standing six feet away, head lowered, his eyes locked on me and his tail wagging slowly. I scramble to my feet and put my hands up so I can ward off the impending attack of slobber and kisses. The behemoth of a dog would never bite me, but when he gets excited, he gets loud.
‘Herman,’ I whisper, slowly stepping closer to the wall as his tail picks up speed. ‘You’re my boy.’ I inch along the carpet, Willow’s closed door in sight. ‘Do me a solid and don’t blow this for me, all right?’
The dog steps closer, the tail wag morphing into a full body wiggle. ‘Herman,’ I warn, still slowly sidestepping. ‘Herman.’
The gods must be looking out for me tonight because I get my hand wrapped around Willow’s doorknob just as Herman lurches for me, and I slip into her room a split second before his lolling tongue can find my leg. But I’m in and he’s out, and all is right in the world.
‘Dev? What are you doing?’
At the sound of Willow’s surprised question, I turn and press my back to the door. She looks too fucking cute in her messy bun and linen pyjamas, the blue fabric dotted with little lemons. The fruit choice and colour palette remind me of the Amalfi coast, so I make a mental note to take her there the next time I have a break.
Like I told her before: I’m rich. The world’s our oyster. And I’m taking her everywhere as soon as I can.
‘What am I doing?’ I repeat, keeping my voice low and hoping Herman can’t hear me. If he gets any more excited, he may start barking. ‘I’m performing a grand romantic gesture by sneaking into your home at midnight and trying to avoid a make-out session that your dog is very insistent on having. I feel like that calls for a better greeting than “what are you doing?”’
Willow rolls her eyes, but she’s trying to tamp down a smile. ‘If you’re here to have sex, you might as well turn around. That’s absolutely not happening with my brother and parents across the hall.’
‘Not what I came here for.’ It’s sort of what I came here for. ‘I really wanted to see you. And Ellie.’ I nod to the stuffed elephant still sitting on her bedside table. ‘I came to tuck you both in.’
The corners of her mouth flick up a little more. ‘How considerate.’
‘I wouldn’t climb up a trellis and risk being slobber-attacked by a dog for just anyone. Too dangerous.’
‘Says the race car driver.’
I finally crack, grinning so wide it almost hurts. I’m just so glad to see her again, up close and personal. ‘Come here, Wills.’
Despite her sarcastic comments, she doesn’t waste a second throwing herself into my arms. I gather her body to mine and hold her close, inhaling her sweetness. With each breath, a little more of the stress of the past seven days washes away.
‘I missed you,’ she mumbles, her face buried in my chest. ‘You’ve been next door this whole time, but it felt like miles.’
‘You know you could have come over, right?’ I tease as I rub her back, grateful to feel every divot and groove of her spine. I want to memorize every inch of her. ‘You could have come up with an excuse to steal me away. I’m sure there was social media stuff to be done. I’m disappointed with your lack of creativity and effort.’
She snorts into my shirt. ‘Yeah, right, and have all your aunties descend on me? I don’t think so. Besides . . .’ She drops her hands from my waist and pulls back as far as I’ll let her. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt your time with Oakley.’
It’s kind of her to give me that opportunity, but she’s forgetting that I’ll have to learn to balance my time with her and with her brother soon enough if we’re going to make a relationship work. I hope this doesn’t mean she’s having any second thoughts.
‘You still in this with me?’ I ask, dipping my head to catch her eye. ‘No doubts?’
She regards me straight on, eyes nearly black in the low light. ‘No doubts,’ she says firmly. ‘I want to tell Oakley after the wedding. I don’t want to risk ruining Alisha’s day – well, days – if telling him goes wrong.’
‘Yeah, if he beats the shit out of me, I won’t be able to dance,’ I joke.
Willow doesn’t seem to find the humour in it. ‘I really hope it doesn’t come to that.’ She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, glancing away. ‘And I don’t think it will. He only did that to Jeremy because of how terrible he was to me.’
‘So don’t be an asshole, and I’ll be fine. Got it.’
She blows out a breath, shoulders slumping. ‘Dev . . .’
‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly, cupping her face so she looks at me again. ‘You know I resort to terrible jokes when I’m nervous.’
I’m desperate to change the subject now, to get away from anything that steals her light. I scan her room, honing in on the Desi clothes hanging up on the edge of her closet door. ‘Are those your outfits for the wedding?’
She brightens again, leaving me to exhale a small sigh of relief.
‘Yeah, I still need to pack them up,’ she says. ‘You like the colours? Neha Aunty helped me pick them out.’
I survey the chaniya cholis, lehengas and saris, taking them in a little more closely, something nagging at the back of my mind. ‘Do you have them in order? Like, for all the events?’
‘Yep.’ She points at each one as she goes down the line. ‘Pithi, mehndi, garba, wedding ceremony and wedding reception.’ Yellow, pink, green, orange and purple.
It clicks then. ‘I can’t believe that woman.’
‘What?’
I release my hold on Willow and run a hand through my hair as I fight the heat creeping up my neck. ‘I hope you don’t mind colour-coordinating with me, because those are the exact same as all my outfits – which my mom also picked out.’
‘Oh my god,’ Willow whispers fiercely. ‘No. She wouldn’t do that.’
‘She would and she did.’
‘But she doesn’t know about us!’ she practically shouts. Her eyes immediately go wide, and she drops her voice again. ‘Wait, wait, wait. That morning when I had breakfast at your house, right after I started working for you – you said something to her in Gujarati, and she practically fell out of her seat laughing. Why?’
I should have known Willow wouldn’t forget that, and now I have an embarrassing confession to make. ‘Because I . . . I told her that nothing was ever going to happen between you and me.’
Willow blinks up at me for a beat, and then she doubles over in quiet giggles. ‘I can’t believe you,’ she gasps, her body shaking. ‘Literally a minute later, you were telling me you’re obsessed with me!’
I grudgingly pat her shoulder, grateful for the low light so she can’t see how red my face probably is right now. ‘Yeah, all right. Maybe I did. But I—’
‘Don’t even try to deny it,’ she says, grin so wide and dimples so deep that when she looks up at me, I can’t help but dazedly smile back, blinded by the pure joy emanating from her. ‘I guess she was right to laugh.’
‘Truly.’ I shake my head. Mothers are the world’s best fortune tellers. ‘Come on, let’s get you and Ellie to bed.’
She finally straightens up. Taking my hand, she leads me to her bed, and I hold up the sheets as she climbs in. I tuck her in as promised, arranging Ellie beside her before I sit on the edge.
‘Sweet dreams, jaanu,’ I murmur, stroking a thumb over her cheek. She looks so peaceful that I don’t dare ruin it by climbing in beside her, no matter how much I want to. ‘I’ll see you from afar tomorrow.’