14. Sona
SONA
“ D id Mom ask you about us?” Mihir said when we were in his car.
“No.”
“Then what were you two talking about?”
“Wow, you’d think two well-read women have nothing else to talk about but you,” I said with a stern look. “That’s some hardcore male arrogance right there.”
“Come on, Sona, you know what I mean. Did she bring up anything that made you uncomfortable? Anything I need to apologize for?”
“What do you think?”
He let out a hard exhale. “You’re right, she wouldn’t.”
I placed a hand on his thigh. “I hope you realize how lucky you are, Mihir.”
He eased his foot on the pedal and drifted to the slowest lane. “So, are you having coffee with Grant?”
I retracted my hand. “I haven’t decided, although he’s terribly charming. And gorgeous! And that accent…oof.” I fanned myself with my left hand.
Mihir’s brows drew in, and his face turned somber. “I must warn you, he’s more feral than he appears.”
“Is he?” I pulled a face. “Or are you just jealous, Mihir Seth?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“ Hands off her , really? So territorial.”
His face quickly turned to me with eyes that displayed as much incredulity as embarrassment. “Fucker told you!”
“Better. He showed me.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Grant said he can see why you like me. He also said I was too good for you,” I said to incite him further.
“Of course he’d say that.”
I laughed, but something occurred to me. “Grant and you are so alike. Have you dated the same woman before? Is that why you sent him that text?”
“Dated is a strong term. We both dabble, but yes, we have. Why?”
“I’m trying to figure out if it was a not her text or a not yet text.”
He threw a quick glance at me. “ This is what Grant meant. You’re too smart for either of us.”
“That wasn’t an answer to my question, Mihir.”
“I realize that.”
The dreaded monster of fear was already growing inside me, fear of falling for his charm, the doubt if I would be able to get away intact.
But before I could panic, he said, “Now, where do you want to go? Grab a coffee, a bite? Maybe a late lunch? We have plenty of time before your flight.”
I didn’t answer.
“Sona?” His deep, throaty voice caused my heart to take a tumble. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Maybe someplace quiet?”
He thought for a moment. “Do you like tacos?”
“I love tacos.”
“Have you had Tex-Mex before?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’ll love it,” he declared as he turned into a spacious parking lot of a taqueria.
I picked the shrimp and chicken Tinga while he got the carnitas and al pastor. They were the most flavorful tacos I’d ever tasted.
“There’s another place in Plano I love. We should go there the next time you are here.”
“Easy, playboy! You might have another playmate the next time I’m here,” I teased, licking off a spot of the cilantro cream sauce off my finger.
I caught him watching me. I might have temporarily calmed the monster of fear, but there was another baring its fangs now. Desire. I wanted him. More of him. A lot more.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, glancing at my furrowed forehead.
I shook my head and dug into the last of my tacos.
Well, if it was going to end anyway, I should enjoy him as much as I can. This was a line of thought I could really go with. He was, after all, a fantastic lover. When was I ever going to meet another man like him? Never, that was the right answer. Never.
“Mihir,” I blurted before I could change my mind. “What would you say if I wanted us to go to your place?”
He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth. “I’d say it would be a terrible thing if we didn’t.”
His confident response made my heart sing. “And you don’t have any other lovers hiding in the grotto, do you?”
“Not at the moment, no,” he quipped, taking a gulp of his tamarind Jarritos.
“Did you suspect I’d ask, or was it a part of your plan already?” I asked with narrowed eyes.
“A bit of both.”
Sitting across from him at an unpretentious taqueria, sipping on mandarin and tamarind Jarritos, felt like living in eternity. The golden silence between us spoke everything I could have never dared say to him. The determination in his gaze told me everything I needed to know, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more, just him and me, holding the comfortable silence between us.
He smiled, but I couldn’t muster the courage to return one. I merely blinked and drank in his beauty.
“Let’s go,” he said, looking at his watch. “I have a meeting in a bit, but I can take it from home. It won’t be a long one. That will give us enough time to drive you to the airport.”
We were out of the taqueria and into the car in a flash. He tapped down on the accelerator with such haste, I thought we’d end up in jail—or at the rear end of another vehicle—but we didn’t. He drove us safely into the driveway of a majestic house in a neighborhood with old trees and clean, clear lakes.
From the car, he unlocked the door with his phone, then carried me inside and dropped me on his bed. Before I knew it, my jeans were off, and he had his face between my legs. My wanton thighs were spread so wide, you’d think I had mastered every yogic stretch. My fingers thrust into his hair, my groans getting louder and more urgent with every flick of his tongue. I hardly trusted it to be my voice anymore.
When I begged him to let me catch a break, he paused to undress and roll down a condom. The rest I have no registered memory of. I let my body take over, conceding completely to his movement. The weight of his big, tall body delighted me into frontiers of pleasure I’d never treaded before. I forced myself to keep my eyes on his happy face, but they didn’t heed. I surrendered loudly and unequivocally. This time, I did scream his name, multiple times.
My face was hot, my body cold, my thighs trembled, and my lips were sore when he finally crashed down on me. Neither of us spoke a word. He wrapped me in his arms, and I pulled mine around him as fear began to grip my heart again. I’d had sex before. This wasn’t sex.
“I can’t seem to get enough of you, Sona. Come back for the Diwali weekend,” he said finally, and I withdrew from his arms to pull the duvet over our bodies. “Mom throws a grand party every year.”
My heart bubbled, and I almost acceded before my rational brain reminded me of what was at stake.
“I want to see you again,” he repeated, this time with an unmistakable yearning in his voice.
Now was the time to tamp it down. “Well, I can’t visit, not until December anyway. The weekend after next, I’ll be in Montréal for a conference, and there’s much to do before and after. Maybe this is for the best. I’ll see you at the wedding in December. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to meet your new playmate.”
He ignored my redirect. “What does your schedule look like in Montréal?”
“Why?” I rolled away to look at him.
“I can come see you there.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’ll just fly up to spend two days with me?”
“Sure, why not?”
“In a different country?”
“Canada is hardly a different country. I don’t even have to worry about a visa.”
“Oh yes, I forgot you can travel anywhere with your passports.” I rolled my eyes. “See, this is where I have a problem with those over-the-top gestures in romances. The ultra-rich guy can just swoop off his lover to a foreign country on a private jet. Hellooo…what about a visa? And passport? Such things are only meant for people from certain countries. Try falling for a person from a developing country with visa restrictions and see how quickly that spontaneous gesture flies out the window. Try whisking them away to a gorgeous island and see how promptly your private jet is returned to its origin. Plus, why is the guy always the rich one?”
His sophisticated chuckle quickly turned into raucous laughter. “I had definitely not expected this to turn into a lecture,” he exclaimed when his amusement had ebbed.
“Well, once you’ve studied critical theory, it’s hard to enjoy most things in life, things steeped in sexist, racist, and colonialist tropes.”
“You don’t watch movies, then?”
“I don’t watch the ones that use women and people of color as props to the storyline.” I smiled and traced my fingers along his chest. “Now you know. I’m not an easy person to deal with.”
“You didn’t answer me. Is that yes to Montréal?”
“You are persistent, aren’t you?”
“The secret to my success.”
I sat up. “Maybe to Montréal.”
“A solid maybe?”
“I need to use the restroom.”
He pointed to a door for an attached bath.
“I’m going to slip out of the covers now,” I warned. “I better not catch you looking at me while I’m walking to the bathroom naked.”
He pushed his hands under his head and set his eyes on me as I got off the bed.
“I’m not kidding,” I said. “I will clobber you. Close your eyes.”
He dropped his eyes shut with a warm smile, a smile that hurt my heart. I didn’t want warmth. I wanted distant, preferably rough, sex. I knew I was in trouble as I walked across the room to his ridiculously lavish bathroom.
I needed to use the restroom, sure, but it was also an excuse to get away from Mihir.
Something had changed last night. I had begun to trust him. It’s like there were two versions of him in my head: a player I needed to stay away from and a confidant I could blindly trust. There had to be a reason why I was able to spell out my fears to him that way without the dread of ridicule.
It was getting too real, too fast. The fire had engulfed me, and I seemed to keep walking deeper into it.
I wasn’t in the bathroom for long but when I returned to the bedroom, having composed myself, Mihir wasn’t there. I got dressed and remembered the meeting he had mentioned. As I walked into the formal living area, I heard his faint voice coming from a room I reckoned was his study.
I decided I had been granted a golden opportunity. If I slipped out unnoticed, I would be effectively severing whatever it was that we had. As much as it would hurt us now, later would be worse. Sure, it would be awkward when we saw each other at Tara’s wedding, but that was precisely why you shouldn’t mess around with your best friend’s friend. Because you never know when the fun and games might turn into something more serious.
Pulling out a notepad from my purse, I tore a page, scribbled a quick note for him, and put it on the bed. Then I called for a cab on my app and carried my luggage to the front door.
In a few minutes, I was on my way to the airport, complete with the heavy baggage from my past.