Chapter 13
Thirteen
HARSH
“Dude, your girlfriend is already ripping your clothes.”
The sniggered remark had Harsh’s gaze lifting from Raashi’s flushed face to the jackass with his phone leveled at them. If there was one thing Harsh detested, it was being filmed without his consent. He knew it came with the territory, but it pissed him off nonetheless. He would pose for endless selfies if people just asked it of him. But people didn’t ask…they just took.
Ram took a step towards the man but Harsh was faster. He snagged Ram’s arm, holding him back. None of them needed an altercation playing out on prime-time news channels.
“Dude,” Harsh said mildly, mimicking the other man’s inflection perfectly, his hand clenched on Ram’s bicep. “Jealous much?”
The other guy glared but wisely held his tongue as he took in not only Harsh and Ram but also, Harsh’s security facing off with him.
Harsh wrapped his arm around Raashi bringing her resisting form towards him. Her hard head connected with his chest with a thunk. Jeez, trying to fake affection with this woman was going to leave him with bruises, literally and figuratively.
“Let’s go, sweetheart. We both need a drink to cool off after that.” He ushered Rock Head into the house the party was being held at. Ram followed closely behind, his irritation and anger rolling off him in waves.
“Aadhya!” Harsh waved to Aarush’s sister who was sprawled in a bean bag in a corner of the room. Her head popped up as she saw them, and he saw her smile tighten for a fraction before she struggled out of the bean bag and over to them.
“Hi guys.” Aadhya sauntered over to them on heels that looked like torture instruments. She frowned as she got closer. “Your sweater is torn,” she said needlessly. “And why have you got Raashi in a chokehold?”
Shit. He was still holding her. Harsh let go of Raashi like she was a burning hot coal and she stumbled back, blinking myopically around her. She looked like she might be blind as a bat without her glasses. He reached for her to steady her, but she flinched out of his grasp, her aversion to his touch more than obvious to everyone around them. An awkward silence fell around their little group.
Aadhya looked over at Ram and said, “Ram.”
“Aadhya,” he replied with a stiff nod.
Well, that certainly didn’t make anything less awkward, Harsh reflected. A chill draft from the nearest air conditioning vent had him shivering as it caught him through the rip in his sweater. His favourite sweater, he thought mournfully, and she’d torn right through it with her Gandhi glasses.
“Stop acting like I killed your dog,” Raashi muttered. “It’s just a sweater.”
“It’s not just a sweater,” Harsh replied indignantly. “It’s-“
“It’s?” she prompted, blinking up at him like a baby owl who’d tumbled out of its nest.
“Nothing,” he mumbled, scowling at her as he took another sip of his drink. All around them people laughed, joked, and flirted. And he was stuck here in the quartet from hell. He wanted to laugh and joke and flirt, dammit. Not glare and brood and mope.
“Fuck this,” he muttered. “Who wants to dance?”
“Raashi will,” Ram answered.
“No, she won’t,” Raashi shot back.
Harsh raised his eyes to the heavens. “What did I ever do to you?” he asked God.
“You can’t dance with anyone else,” Ram muttered, for Harsh’s ears only.
“People in relationships dance with other people,” Harsh replied sarcastically. “I know it’s probably been a while for you, but you should know that dancing isn’t sex.”
Aadhya snorted, a weird snuffling snort that could have been a laugh or a sneer.
“You know what I mean smartass,” Ram retorted, glaring at Aadhya who scratched the side of her face with her middle finger in response.
What was with these two? Harsh was intrigued. He wanted to poke Ram’s temper a bit more and see where this would go.
“We’re not dancing alone. If we go out there, so do the two of you.” He waggled a finger between Ram and Aadhya. He couldn’t have said who looked more horrified at the idea. The Imp of Mischief that always rode on his shoulder cackled at their expressions.
“Come on everyone! Group dance!”
Three identically aghast faces stared at him. He wanted to laugh but he smoothed his expression into one of placid innocence. This time he didn’t reach for Rock Head. Instead, he put a hand to her’s and Aadhya’s backs propelling them towards the dance floor and leaving Ram with no choice but to follow.
They pushed their way through the packed crowd on to the tiny space designated for the partygoers to dance. Harsh nodded to one of his heroines who waved to him from the corner of the room. He saw Raashi blink in that direction, her already stiff shoulders tensing into a straitjacket.
He leaned close to her, his lips almost touching her ear. “Jealous?” he whispered.
She spun around to face him, her hair slapping him in the face with the movement. “You wish,” she said frostily.
Harsh grinned, grabbing her with one arm around her waist and spinning her out in the limited space they had. Befuddled and still peering into the dimness of the room, Raashi quickly found her feet and started to follow his lead.
Who knew the Queen of Darkness could dance? Her compact, lithe body twisted and turned in tune to his own movements. Amazed, he stepped it up, adding fancier footwork and found that she matched him step for step effortlessly.
He was enjoying himself, he thought bemusedly as he finally cut loose and allowed himself to enjoy the music like he’d been wanting to. He watched Raashi throw her head back and laugh, the same joy in the moment that he felt pulsing through her. And for the briefest moment, he felt something. Something other than the irritation, annoyance, and rage…he felt…
He took a quick step back from Raashi, alarm swimming through the weird bead of desire that had welled up. His elbow hit Aadhya who was shuffling like a mannequin from one foot to the other beside her. She was still a shade better than Ram who hadn’t moved an inch. He was Statue Man in the middle of the dance floor.
“Sorry.” Harsh apologised for causing Aadhya to stop her zombie shuffle. “Didn’t mean to interrupt all the manic fun being had here.” He made circular motions to encompass Aadhya and Ram’s little cone of silence.
Raashi giggled, the sound going directly to his groin. Harsh froze. Was he high? He’d had one beer so far. Nowhere close to enough alcohol to make him delusional and have him hallucinating like this. He turned his head, very slowly, toward Raashi, wondering if she’d morphed into someone else, someone he might find attractive.
But no. It was still her. The same little weirdo with the serrated blade for a tongue. So then, what was happening to him? He shook his head trying to clear it. Before he could say anything, his actress friend sashayed over.
“Harsh.” His name was a throaty purr. “Why are you ignoring me?” she asked, her hand coming to rest on his chest, one long, red nail digging into the rip in his sweater and finding skin.
“I’m not ignoring you, Kajal,” he replied, wincing as her nail scratched him. Had she drawn blood? Would he need a tetanus shot? “I’m just here with friends.”
“Are you done with your friends now?” she whispered huskily, leaning in so her lips touched his ear. “I wanted to talk to you in private.” Her hand reached around him and cupped his ass, kneading it like she was making dough.
“Not sure my girlfriend would like that,” he said, removing her barnacle like grip from his butt and moving towards Rock Head who was watching the whole scene with a strangely indecipherable expression.
“Girlfriend?” Kajal laughed. “When did you get a girlfriend, sweetie?”
For the third time that night, Harsh yanked Raashi to him. She stumbled into his embrace, stepping on his foot and elbowing him in the ribs.
“It’s still new,” he gasped, pain bringing tears to his eyes. And it would be even nicer if his ‘new girlfriend’ would stop maiming him when he was trying to fake affection.
“Oh!” Kajal’s eyes darted between the two of them. “So, it’s not exclusive then.”
His hands tightened around Raashi. “It’s-“
But he never got to finish what he was going to say because his ‘new girlfriend’ turned in his arms and kissed him on the cheek, her lips gently touching his skin, the corner of it grazing the side of his mouth.
Shock ran through him, an electric current that seemed to singe his very soul. It was an innocent gesture, one meant to claim him in front of the other woman but all it did was upend his reality.
“Sorry to disappoint,” Raashi told Kajal, her voice calm and level like she hadn’t just dropped a keg of dynamite into his world. “But we’re exclusive. Very exclusive.”
“You mean-“ Kajal asked, her eyes narrowing.
“He’s mine.” Raashi smiled, a gentle but unmistakable warning in the curve of her lips. “So, hands off sweetie.”