Chapter Thirty-Nine
Thirty-nine
Bhanu
White miso ramen on chilly days was true comfort. Sautéed veggies with a sprinkle of green onion made it perfect. Comfort foods to calm down my rising anxiety about a new job, a new place, more in-person workdays.
I pulled my knee to my chest and blew on my bowl of noodles. I looked across the screens as I chewed. I ate while I worked, a blanket on my legs and lap, a cardigan around my shoulders, and answered all inquiries before checking on research feedback.
No matter how in the zone I was, my traitorous eyes kept returning to his virtual box. Sunny was sitting there, working, his eyes skimming across all billion lines of code, probably, while moving across multiple screens.
His stare stayed affixed to one section of whatever he was looking at and I tilted my head, slurping noodles. His background was different. Had he moved to a new room?
He looked at his camera before typing. A chat box popped up on my screen.
You’ve got something on your face.
What! I rubbed my chin and cheek to find sauce on my fingertips. I scowled at the screen, but Sunny simply leaned back in his chair and smirked.
Sometimes I really hated him.
Okay. Not really. It was impossible to hate that playful smile that made me feel so warm and wonderful.
At some point, he’d turned off his camera and muted himself. And then he’d logged off work early. I, however, worked until seven, fully aware that he’d left a voice mail, had texted, and had DMd through work chat. On the one hand, the idea of talking to him made me giddy. On the other hand, he probably wanted to clarify that we should be civil coworkers and nothing more. Thankfully, I was too busy catching up on work and doing extra for the weeks ahead so I could leave the company with their best product. Not to mention starting the daunting task of finding an apartment in Seattle without fainting from the price of rent.
It was dark, late, and chilly before I closed all the blinds. I was exhausted by the time I finally found the nerves, and common decency, to respond to Sunny.
Bhanu: We can chat, but maybe later? I’m not feeling well.
Sunny immediately replied.
Sunny: What’s wrong?
Bhanu: Been busy.
Sunny: Is that all? Not just avoiding me?
Bhanu: No.
Liar! Well, that wasn’t the only reason. Anxiety climbed ever higher. At least he didn’t push for more conversation.
The following morning, I’d drowsily taken a shower and slipped into fuzzy socks, sweatpants, a frayed T-shirt, and a cardigan before making coffee and downing ibuprofen for this mounting stress-induced headache. Finding a place in Seattle, much less within a reasonable budget, had evolved into a nightmare. There wasn’t much time left before being forced into soul-sucking commutes if I continued to live in Tacoma. I’d asked for two weeks, and was now kicking myself for not asking for more time.
I scratched my back and looked through the fridge and cabinets wondering what in the world I was in the mood to eat. Then realizing how daunting a task packing would be.
My phone screen lit up with a text.
Sunny: Are you home?
Bhanu: Headache holding me captive.
A moment later, as the last drops of coffee dripped into the carafe, there was a knock on the door. I frowned. Who in the world was knocking on my door? It better be Girl Scouts with cookies to save the day.
I checked the peephole and had to look twice to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. Sunny was here? Why? No matter the reason, my entire body quivered at the sight of him, at the nearness of him, and just when I’d thought I had this under control.
I checked my phone after the second knock.
Sunny: I’m at your door.
Bhanu: Creeper.
Sunny:
Rebuking jitters never worked; they only got wilder, reverberating against every nerve, snapping them in half. My stomach tied into knots, the kind that sent flutters sweeping through my insides. I swore I was floating away.
I braced for a conversation about how badly we’d behaved and how it could never happen again.
Easy. I was leaving.
When I opened the door, I wasn’t prepared to be devoured by Sunny’s mere presence. Everything in my peripheral vision blurred.
Sunny stood a couple of feet away. So close that I could smell him. So close that his body heat prowled toward me like a hungry lover. He was tall and broad and took up space in the best way.
He had his hands behind his back, stretching the fabric of his black T-shirt over a broad chest and flat stomach, his chin high so that his hooded eyes were looking down at me with a hint of longing. His hair was its usual disheveled mess, and he was wearing the absolute glory out of a pair of gray joggers—that, um, showcased a bulge that I was well acquainted with. Damn, he looked fine. I couldn’t stop staring.
“My eyes are up here,” he said in that husky voice, one brow cocked and looking all kinds of smug.
Heat made its theatrical return across my cheeks and neck. “What are you doing here?” Great! I still knew how to use words, but they came out breathy, labored.
“I was hoping to talk.”
“Sunny. Really?” I groaned.
He closed his eyes, his expression relaxing. “Damn, I missed how you say my name.”
Wait. What? No, don’t jump to conclusions! But hope bubbled through me.
“Mmm.” He took a deep breath. “Did you make coffee?”
I nodded, wanting him to go back to what he was just saying. Who cared about the damn coffee?
He pulled an aluminum tray from behind his back. A reusable bag hung from his wrist. Sunny watched me as I frowned. He slowly peeled back the aluminum top. Okay. He had me intrigued, I gave him that. I peered over the lip, but he raised the container until I was stepping onto the threshold and on my tiptoes.
“What is that?” I asked, inhaling the sweet aroma of something delicious.
He was going too high now. I grabbed his forearms, careful not to make him drop the contents. His skin was warm, and my body raged. His scent of shampoo and soap and deodorant crashed over me. Our body heat met and mingled around us, and I was about one flirty move away from pouncing on him.
Sunny stilled as soon as our flesh made contact, his nostrils flaring. Just my hands on his arms, but enough to command us. Our eyes locked and I lowered his arms down. Well, actually, he lowered them. At this angle and with those muscles, I could probably hang from his forearms like a monkey, and he wouldn’t budge.
I released Sunny so he could proudly reveal a tray of golden triangular pastries with a sheath of glaze and bluish-purple filling that had bubbled out during baking.
“Blueberry turnovers?” I asked, suddenly starving.
“Ube,” he corrected, his voice sleek.
My eyes flitted up. “What!”
He grinned. “Ah, someone’s excited.”
“You came all the way here, in the Tacoma rain, to bring me ube turnovers?”
He nodded, as if this weren’t a big deal, as if people did this for each other all the time.
I smiled. “Where did you even find these?”
“I made them.”
“Shut up. You did not.”
“Come look at the mess in my kitchen and tell me I didn’t.”
“How…where…” I had so many questions, but my focus was pinned to the pastries. “These are for me?”
“If you’d like.”
“I’d like.”
“And extras.” He lifted the bag. “For your anxiety.”
“What?” I choked out.
“Chocolate, ibuprofen, heating packs, candles. I don’t know. I read some articles on how to help. Talking, reading, movies, silence, shutting down tech. You might have to tell me what works for you.”
I stuttered, “How—huh?”
“How did I know? I can tell now, from the moments we spent together, I caught on. I thought maybe you were avoiding me because of what happened…and then I thought maybe you were anxious, too. Then I saw you on work meetings, and I knew.”
“Oh…”
No man, including those I’d dated long-term, had ever identified an episode without me saying so, much less from afar, much less brought me comfort gifts to cope.
He explained, “My mom has a lot of anxiety, and she tends to keep it to herself, too. When you told me about your anxiety attacks, I saw her symptoms in you. I always tell my dad to pay attention and be proactive, so here I am. Taking my own advice.”
I wanted to swing my arms around him and press him to me, to kiss him with the passion of a million kisses and keep him in my embrace for entire lifetimes. And maybe keep my misty eyes from spewing tears. “Sunny! Thank you. That’s so wonderfully sweet of you.”
“I’m aware that I’m quite wonderful.”
“And now you’re back.”
He grinned. Oh, how that brilliant smile lit up my entire world.
“I think I should enjoy my ube alone now.”
He frowned. “The hell. Are you serious?”
I laughed.
“Smart-ass. How about I come in and we can have coffee and turnovers, and if you want, we can talk? About anything that’s on your mind.”
I stepped back to let him in. In true Indian fashion, he removed his shoes, toes to heel so he didn’t touch them.
He followed me to the kitchen counter, where I poured coffee, asking how he took his. But as I replaced the carafe, I felt his body behind mine. It was perceptible, devouring.
He leaned past me, his arm brushing mine to get the cream, dropping a small amount into a mug. And then a big spoonful of sugar.
“Your teeth will rot like that,” I joked, my voice uneven.
Sunny didn’t take the mug, nor did he swirl his coffee. Instead, he hugged me. From behind. My entire body went off in flares, and my heart splattered against my ribs with every notion of love and lust and yearning and need.
I instantly melted against him, my eyelids fluttering closed, and inhaled this moment.
In his guttural voice, he said, “I see why hugs from behind are on your list.”
His arms snaked around my waist. “I hope this is still okay?” His words came out with a pinch of hope, as if he desperately needed me to say, “ Yes , we are as we were last week.”
I nodded; I couldn’t speak, could barely breathe. In fact, my legs were turning to mush, and it was a good thing he was holding me because I might, in fact, melt into a puddle of goo.
His lips were at my neck when he confessed, “I really missed you.”
Goose bumps skittered across my flesh at that stupid Denzel voice, even as my body reacted to how my curves fit deliciously against his. “Well, I am a delight.” How I managed an entire sentence was a miracle.
His body shook with a chuckle.
“Think you can just hug me because you brought breakfast?”
“I mean…I did bring home the ube.”
“That’s cheesy.”
“Is it, though? I thought it was sexy.”
I turned into him like a mistake that I was happy to make. We were so close, our chests grazing, and his hands planted on my hips. He was hunched over me, his head lowered like maybe he wanted to kiss me.
I stared at his chest, wishing I could call down my big UX energy and just say what was on my mind.
“Bane.”
I grunted, lifting my gaze to meet his.
He smirked. “I meant babe.”
“What?” I furrowed my brows. I heard his words, knew what he was doing, but my brain couldn’t seem to compute, to align data with the value of its evidence.
He took a large breath and exhaled. “I’m a grown man who can’t seem to express myself as well as I’d like sometimes.”
“True.”
“But I’m learning how, and honestly, you make me want to. You make it easier. You made me realize how much I wanted to open up to you during our time together. And those days together were the best days of my life.”
His gaze dipped to my mouth for a second before he went on. “You’re unlike any woman I’ve known. You make me different. Better. My true self. You let me shine and you enable me to thrive. We may have started out as a lie, but…”
He swallowed, as if maybe he was taking a huge risk by continuing. But I was ever eager to hear him say it. So much so that I had bunched up the sides of his shirt in my fists. “It never seemed fake to me. It was natural to be into you, because the truth is, I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“You always bickered with me,” I protested weakly.
“Maybe I was just bad at flirting?”
“Horrible, apparently.”
“I think I’ve mastered it by now.” He gently ran a finger across my cheek and tucked wayward hair behind my ear.
I shivered. Masterful indeed.
“I didn’t mean for the truth to come out to my friends the way it did, when it did. And I’m deeply apologetic that it embarrassed you and put you on the spot. But know this, my friends adore you.”
“Really? After all that lying?”
“They said it might’ve started out as a lie, but they could see it wasn’t pretty quickly. And I wasn’t acting after some point. I hope…you weren’t acting, either?”
I shook my head, the words I’d wanted to say for so long releasing. “It’s easy to be with you, Sunny. The lie had become my truth.”
He smiled as if my confession had lifted the burden of a million deadlines from his shoulders. “The only reason I didn’t come after you to tell you how I felt was because my sister called.”
“Oh, no. Was it about your dad?”
He nodded. “Papa had a stroke, and we were worried this was the big one.”
I hugged Sunny close to me, my hands meeting behind his back. “Oh my god, Sunny. I’m so sorry. Is he okay?”
“Yes,” he said into my hair. “Thank you. There wasn’t too much damage and he’s home. It’s why I didn’t come earlier, why I’d been away from work. I was taking care of him.”
I blinked away tears. Here I was, so stupid thinking he didn’t give a crap about me to let me walk away like that.
He pulled away and swiped my cheeks. “Why are you crying? He’s okay.”
I sucked in a breath and shuddered. “I added unnecessary stress to an already hectic time by not calling back, didn’t I?”
“Don’t think that.”
“But I did. And I could’ve been there for you while you were dealing with everything. I wasn’t. I’m so sorry.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up.
“Why are you smiling?” I demanded.
He kissed the tear dribbling down my cheek. “Because you wanted to help me through something so personal. But now, I’m going to get a little personal.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I need to know what happened with the PM position. They offered it to me. Is that why you have anxiety?”
“Sunny! Congrats! I knew they would and it’s well deserved.”
He pinched his brows together, looking anything except happy. “Where does this leave you?”
“At Google. They made an offer, and I took it.”
Sunny lifted me off the floor. “Oh, shit! Big league! Congrats, babe.”
I laughed. “Oh my god! Put me down! Were you worried over my job?”
“Of course. I knew they must’ve offered it to you first, but why wouldn’t you take it, and where did it leave you? Hell, now I know. Google came knocking.”
“And I threw my hussy self at them. Please tell me you took the PM job.”
“I asked for the weekend. I’m going to accept on Monday.”
“Congrats… babe ,” I said, mimicking his Denzel voice and horribly failing.
He lifted his chin. “So does this mean that you’re moving to Seattle?”
“If I can find an apartment. There aren’t a lot of places available near work, or ones that are affordable.”
“You’re not becoming moss.”
I groaned. “My mother will be ecstatic, and I know it’s the right move. I’m truly grateful. But I only have a couple of weeks before starting work, and the anxiety is getting to me. New workplace, huge company, moving, change. Oh my god, I have to pack. There’s not enough time.”
“Hmm. Maybe you can…crash at my apartment until you find a place?”
Warmth crept up my neck.
He quickly added, “I’m staying with my parents in Olympia for a bit, so the apartment would be empty. If you feel comfortable. It would place you closer to work and give you time to look for an apartment. No pressure whatsoever. And if you like, or need, I can stay with my parents longer until we figure things out. I don’t mind.”
“That’s a lovely and extremely helpful offer.” I pecked his cheek. “But I thought you meant return to how things were, just coworkers. Isn’t that what you told your friends?”
“Come here.” He walked me over to an empty counter and hoisted me up in one effortless, fluid movement.
I gasped, grasping his forearms as he slipped in between my thighs. Something that did not go unnoticed by him.
Sunny glanced down and a surge of heat ignited between us. “Damn if we don’t fit perfectly together.”
He pressed his forehead against mine. “I don’t want you to think last week was some fantasy and nothing more. The truth is, I’ve always noticed you. What you’re wearing, what you’re doing, how you smell. You make it hard to concentrate on anything else. You make me want to ignore everything and everyone and get lost in you. You were always the highlight of my day, even when we were bickering. Days without you are meaningless episodes until the next time I see you. Holding patterns waiting for a CTA to be activated.”
“Sunny…”
He brushed my cheek, his touch gliding down my throat, inciting a wave of shivers. “I love when you say my name.”
My legs instinctively tightened around him.
He inhaled. “I love the smell of you.”
I dug my fingers into his sides.
He kissed my neck. “I love the taste of you.”
I gave in to the dizzying sensation.
“You are absolutely the most beautiful, intelligent, creative woman I’ve ever known.” He pressed a kiss to my jaw. “You are a goddess.”
I gasped, heady, my thoughts blooming with euphoria.
Sunny gripped my hips, adding in that deep, gritty tone, “I don’t want to be anything less than a couple. Do you?”
I vehemently shook my head. “I want you.”
“You have me.”
My mouth crashed against his. My body caved to the need of him.
He wound his fingers through my hair and pulled back. His gaze skimmed from my swollen lips to my eyes. “God damn, I am so fucking in love with you.”
“Sunny,” I moaned.
“Keep saying my name like that, Bane, and see where it gets you.”
“I hope it gets me into bed with you and a tray of ube.”
“Then let’s go.”
I yelped, clinging to him, my legs and arms wrapped around his body, as he carried me into the bedroom.
“I remember which door,” he said, walking me into my room.
He gently dropped me onto the bed and backed away. I grabbed the waistband of his sweats and asked, “Where are you going?”
“The ube.”
I yanked him toward me and leaned back so that he had no choice except to crawl onto the bed, his body a delectable heaviness pressing down on me.
“Yes?” he teased.
Trailing kisses across his throat, I declared, “I love you, too.”
“More than ube?” he jested.
“Let’s not get out of hand.”
With Sunny in my arms, and new jobs and a real relationship on the horizon, the anxiety of moving forward in life seemed like a wondrous dream spilling into reality. Like adept code changing the user interface to enhance flawless UX, we embraced the perfect design of us.