Chapter 2
Two. Chase it.
Patrick
I’m staring at the front door when the bell rings, but I don’t move to open it.
I’m not sure what to expect and I’m terribly nervous about how she might react.
When I texted her, it was with the hope she would agree easily and I realise now I was foolish to assume it would be that simple.
Nothing about my relationship with Tamara has been easy.
It took her a whole twenty-four hours of leaving me on read before she replied.
Tamara Chandy
I’ve always been a mean girl and you don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot be. What do I get out of this conversation? Besides never seeing you again.
Okay, that was mean. But fine. I don’t really have anything to say. I know you’re going to keep texting until I agree, so I’ll be there this afternoon. A quick conversation and you’re gone.
When Elias told me he was bringing Vera and her cousin to our annual Mahabalipuram weekend, I knew I was screwed.
The minute my brother started dating the bombshell CEO, I looked her up and found pictures of a familiar curly-haired goddess on her Instagram profile.
Tamara Chandy, the one that got away. It took a few more clicks before I was staring at Tamara’s profile.
Her pictures are more work-related with a few of her friend group scattered here and there.
None of that mattered since I was so focused on the woman laughing and smiling at the camera.
The very same one scowling at me over the weekend. The same one that was testing my patience in her pink swimsuit and flirting with Bash. He apologised via text because clearly everyone knew there was something going on between me and Tamara. Yet, she’s the only one not giving me the time of day.
I don’t know if what she feels for me is hate or something else.
It was in what she didn’t say that I deciphered her feelings.
Or lack there of. If she could have, if Elias and Vera let her, Tamara might have cut me into tiny pieces and tossed me in the ocean.
To think there was a time in our lives when we were so obsessively in love with each other.
Inhaling deeply, I convince myself this will be a breeze. Then pull the door open.
This is the first time I’ve been grateful for the blistering summer Chennai suffers through ninety percent of the year.
Tamara’s wearing a floral dress tied at her waist. One tug of the string and the whole thing will come undone.
She’s always been a voluptuous woman, soft in places I didn’t know you could be.
The years have made her more supple and delectable.
Her hair, once a weird curly mop, cascades down her back in ringlets.
Her legs are bare, feet tucked into plain black strappy sandals.
Even without makeup, her face glows and her soft lips are bright pink.
Her eyes meet mine and my insides turn to mush.
Tamara’s always taken my breath away—at twelve when I started crushing on her, at fourteen when we first kissed and now, at thirty-seven, she’s got me twisted up in ways I can’t explain.
It takes me a minute, but I finally step aside and let her into the house. “Thanks for coming over.”
Scents of honeysuckle and cinnamon slide through my senses, discombobulating me as she moves past. She says something and it takes me a minute to realise she’s talking to me.
“Uh, sorry?”
Tamara glances at me, a familiar look of irritation flashing through her eyes. “Elias lives here alone?”
I nod and look around the house. It’s a four bedroom, five bathroom place with a giant kitchen, a backyard he can fit a tiny pool into, and large main spaces.
There’s a smaller home in the back for Kuriakose, the family driver.
“He bought the house a few years ago with the hopes Nina or I might move in with him.”
She hums and looks around pointedly. I don’t dare interrupt her, but when she moves to the kitchen, I follow in her delicious scented wake.
It’s taking serious amounts of effort not to stare at her ass or admire the curves of her body.
Since the beach house, I’ve had dreams of stripping her naked and tasting her.
The number of times I’ve woken up with my hand wrapped around my cock would annoy her.
Like when we first met, Tamara has me addicted. And we haven’t even touched yet.
In fact, this is the longest we’ve been alone since summer camp. Not for lack of trying on my part.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
She turns to me, her shrewd brown eyes narrowed in…frustration? I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t reach for her. Looking at her now, I realise she’s almost a foot shorter than my six-three. But at this moment, I feel like the smallest man in the world.
I know she hates me; I just don’t know why.
“I don’t intend to stay any longer than necessary, Patrick.”
Ouch. The emphasis she puts on my name sends a shot of something to my dick. There was a time when she loved me. Now she feels a certain something else for me. Something I can’t seem to comprehend.
“The drink can even be water.”
“Fine,” she drawls and leans against the counter.
I fill two glasses with cold water and slide one to her.
She takes a sip, eyes still moving around the kitchen while I continue to admire her.
I remember lying in the grass behind an abandoned shed, tracing her face with my fingers while she read from one of the romance novels she smuggled into camp.
We’d laugh at the descriptions of genitalia, take turns reading the sex scenes and spend countless hours kissing.
Those summers were some of the best I ever had and truly the highlight of every year.
Getting to see her, knowing she was waiting for me, having her tucked in my arms during campfire nights—nothing could ever compare.
I’ve run through everything that happened back then, trying to figure out where we went wrong.
The only problem is, there are gaps in my memories.
We had five great summers together where we explored sports and each other thoroughly.
We had two big fights, but made up before we parted ways. So where did I go wrong?
“Why do you hate me?”
She groans and puts the glass down harder than necessary, but still doesn’t say anything.
“If you plan to kill me, maybe we should do it outside?”
Tamara continues to ignore me, but she moves to the window and peers into the garden.
I stay where I am, afraid if I move something will go wrong.
It’s like being around a wild animal; you don’t want to taunt them, but you also want to find a way out of there.
The difference is, I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want her to walk away either. So I’m doing everything possible to keep her in place.
“This was a mistake,” she says and flips her dark hair over one shoulder. Another scent hits me and my knees wobble. Seriously, being this well-built should make me more steady. In Tamara Chandy’s presence, I’m nothing but the gooiest man on the planet.
“Lot—” the rest of her nickname freezes on my tongue when she turns around and glares at me.
“We don’t need to talk.”
“I really think we should.”
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. “Why? Nothing’s going to change.”
“For one we’re going to be in each other’s lives because of Vera and Elias. Two, I’m not used to people hating me for no reason.”
She scoffs, her cocoa brown eyes sparkling dangerously. My cock twitches and I grit my teeth. Oh fuck. Maybe I find Tamara hotter when she hates me, because my dick is ready to rise up and fight battles for her.
“You better get used to me not giving a shit about you then.”
There was a time when I could read her moods and adjust to them.
She’s harder to figure out now. Her eyes don’t give her away, and her body language is the same as it was when she walked through the front door.
Over the years, she’s clearly gotten really good at hiding her feelings and I fucking hate it.
“Why did you accept my invitation, Tamara?”
“I don’t know,” she says, voice flat and emotionless. “You seemed desperate.”
I can’t help the smile that stretches across my lips, but she meets it with narrowed eyes. My options are limited—fight for her time and make her angrier, or let her walk away. The former is dangerous and the latter is a mistake, but I don’t know how to navigate this icy slope we’re on.
“Just answer one question for me, then.”
She tips her head up to meet my gaze as I close the gap between us.
I allow myself a few seconds to count the freckles on her face, remembering when they started to appear during summer camp.
She always hated them while I thought they were cute.
I want to touch and hold her, brush those curls out of her face, count each mark and remind her they’re still perfect. But I don’t want to die.
“Patrick.”
I blink at the sound of my name and Tamara’s frown greets me. Right, shit. Clearing my throat, I say, “Do you hate me?”
For the first time since she got here, I see something other than anger flicker through her eyes.
It’s gone just as fast. She looks away and I watch her every move.
She tucks hair behind her ear, fiddles with the thick gold hoop in her lobe and very lightly shakes her head.
There are no words, no firm answer to my question and I realise there won’t be one.
My shoulders drop and my jaw relaxes as I lean against the counter in defeat.
“Fuck it.”