Chapter Nine
Nine
Priya waited until the apartment fell silent and her parents were fast asleep. Then, flashlight in hand, she eased open the door and stepped out into the cool night. Moonlight filtered through the trees, creating soft patches of light as she made her way to the coach house.
The stone building stood still and dark, its walls blending into the shadows. Riffling through the keys she had nabbed earlier, Priya let herself in through the side entrance that led to the storage area. The door opened with a mournful creak.
Inside, the air hit her like a wave, thick with the solemn scent of ashes and aged wood.
A pang of familiarity swept over her, stirring childhood memories.
She recalled the smell that clung to Puppa when he returned from the crematorium, covered in a fine layer of dust. It was a scent rooted in her family’s traditions, hanging in the air like a phantom that refused to fade.
Priya’s flashlight cut through the darkness, over rows of unclaimed cremated remains.
Scanning the area, she spotted the exposed pipe she was looking for.
Clenching the flashlight between her teeth, she stepped onto a shelf and climbed higher until she could reach it.
Steadying herself with one hand, she struck the flashlight’s metal body against the pipe again and again.
Each clang reverberated through the coach house, hollow and eerie, like the tread of a shackled soul.
A sly grin tugged at Priya’s lips as she pictured Ethan bolting out of bed, his unflappable confidence shattered by the ghostly racket.
Just as she was hitting her stride, the door flung open.
Startled, she lost her footing, arms flailing for balance.
Her hand shot out, grabbing an urn on the shelf, but it slipped from her fingers as she toppled backward.
Priya landed hard on her backside, and the urn bounced off her head, its lid popping open.
A cloud of ashes burst into the air, covering Priya from head to toe with the remnants of someone long gone. Fine powder clung to her eyelashes, and she could taste the dust in her mouth.
Ethan stood in the doorway, momentarily frozen.
“Hello?” he called, his voice cutting through the ash hanging in the air.
Priya managed a hoarse reply before giving in to a sharp burst of coughing.
“Priya?” Ethan felt his way along the wall, searching for the light switch before turning it on. Seeing her, he asked, “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I…uh…” Priya sputtered as he helped her to her feet. Her eyes darted around, finally landing on the empty urn. “I came for this,” she said, snatching it up.
“At this time of the night?”
“It’s an emergency,” Priya blurted.
“An emergency ash retrieval?”
“Yes, actually.” Her eyes dropped to the label on the urn. “This person’s brother contacted us to claim the remains. He’s coming to pick them up first thing in the morning.”
Ethan took the container from her hands. “Babulal Gupta,” he read. “It says he passed away thirty years ago, aged eighty-nine. You’re telling me his brother is still alive?”
“Did I say brother?” Priya backtracked. “I meant his brother’s family. Specifically, his brother’s son. So, Babulal’s nephew. His younger brother’s eldest—”
“Priya.” Ethan pressed his finger against her lips. “Let’s get Babulal off you. And me,” he muttered, noticing the ash on his finger.
Equally eager to rid herself of Babulal, Priya followed Ethan out.
“That was quite the tumble,” Ethan said, glancing at her. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you just turn the light on?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she lied.
“Oh, and all that noise didn’t disturb me?”
“What noise?”
“The banging and clanging. Christ, Pri, I thought an army of the undead was coming alive.”
“I didn’t hear anything,” she said innocently.
“How could you not? It was practically shaking the walls.”
“Maybe it’s something in the walls?” Priya offered with a shrug. “I did warn you, didn’t I?”
“Well, I’m still waiting to meet this Bhooa masi of yours,” Ethan replied, letting her into the coach house.
As the door clicked shut behind them, Priya’s thoughts spun in a hundred directions.
What now? Her attempt to spook Ethan had gone sideways.
He didn’t look the least bit rattled. In fact, he seemed as calm and collected as ever.
And then it hit her. This didn’t have to be a total loss.
She was alone with Ethan Knight in the middle of the night.
It was the perfect setup for her other plan—a fun, thrilling, casual fling to hit the reset button in her life.
This was her chance to be bold, spontaneous, and a little reckless.
“Do you mind if I hop in the shower?” Priya asked, her heart thudding in her chest. If she was going to take advantage of this moment, she needed to act fast.
“Oh, I insist,” Ethan replied, gesturing toward the trail of powdery prints her shoes had left behind.
Priya offered a small, sheepish smile, slipped off her shoes, and headed to the bathroom. Once inside, she shut the door and leaned against it, taking a deep breath.
Okay, step one complete, she thought, peeling off her dusty clothes. She’d found an excuse to hang around.
As Priya scrubbed her skin and worked shampoo through her hair, a pool of grime collected around her feet.
Gross. She shuddered and rinsed out her mouth.
If there was even the tiniest chance of a kiss, she wasn’t about to let Ethan taste Babulal on her lips.
A mix of nerves and excitement coursed through her as she plotted her next move.
She didn’t want to be obvious, but she couldn’t play it too safe either.
The balance had to be perfect. Flirty but not desperate, confident but not over the top.
Turning off the water, Priya reached for the towel and froze. The rack was empty. A soft laugh escaped her as she realized that fate had already handed her the next move.
Poking her head around the edge of the stall, she called, “Ethan? Can you grab me a towel?”
“Sure thing.”
Priya’s heart raced as she waited. The steam from the shower clung to her skin, but it wasn’t the heat that made her feel lightheaded. Why does this feel so huge?
When the knock came, it jolted her like a shock wave.
Aaand action, her inner director announced.
“Just, um, leave it on the counter?” she found herself saying. Suddenly, the idea of stepping out of the shower, wet and naked, sent her stomach into a wild tumble. She needed a second to pull herself together, to shake off the heat prickling at the back of her neck.
Ethan’s silhouette appeared through the misty glass as he stepped into the bathroom, the weight of his presence filling the room. Priya expected him to leave after setting the towel down, but he didn’t. He paused, close enough for the space between them to feel electric.
Priya swallowed, her mind racing.
What is he doing?
Is he waiting for me to invite him in?
What if he slides the shower door open and steps inside?
Am I ready for Ethan Knight to see me naked?
I haven’t shaved.
Oh lord.
The silence stretched, charged and heavy, making her cheeks burn.
And then Ethan’s shadow retreated, and the door clicked softly behind him.
Priya let out a shaky breath, her hand flying to her chest as if to keep her heart from bursting through her ribs.
What is wrong with me? she thought, half laughing at herself, half wishing she’d done something, anything, different.
She finished drying off and looked for her clothes, but they were nowhere to be found. Spotting Ethan’s T-shirt on the hook, she put it on. As she twisted her wet hair into a towel on top of her head, his scent wrapped around her—a spicy, clean mix of cologne and something that was undeniably him.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Priya’s eyes searched for Ethan. The faint hum of the washing machine caught her ear, and she stopped in her tracks.
Oh. He’d been collecting her clothes in the bathroom. While she’d been gearing up for a swoon-worthy Hollywood moment, Ethan had been doing something thoughtful. The gesture left her warm and fuzzy, a soft glow blooming in her chest.
The sound of running water led Priya to the kitchen, where Ethan stood by the stove, leaning over a saucepan. It wasn’t until she got closer that she noticed how little he had on. In his rush to check on the earlier commotion, he’d only managed to throw on a loose shirt over his boxers.
Priya’s gaze swept over him. The way his sleeves were pushed up to reveal his forearms. The set of his shoulders. The solid lines of his legs. She swallowed, her thoughts drifting to how his skin might feel under her fingers, or how warm his neck might be if she leaned in to kiss it.
As if sensing her presence, Ethan turned around.
“Hot chocolate?” he asked, but the words faltered as his eyes landed on her, and he did a quick double take.
He took in her oversized T-shirt—his T-shirt—the neckline slipping slightly to reveal one shoulder.
The hem grazed the tops of her thighs, leaving her legs bare and exposed.
Her hair was twisted into a towel, but the strands framing her face caught the light with shimmering beads of water.
The fabric did little to hide her nipples, leaving no doubt that Priya wasn’t wearing anything underneath.
“Is this a secret strategy to get guys to do more laundry? Because it’s working.” Ethan’s voice had a teasing edge, but Priya caught the subtle flicker of his throat as he swallowed.
It’s working, she thought. I have his attention. She felt both powerful and on edge. Could she truly handle a fling with him?
“Well, if it works, who am I to argue?” she said, lifting her chin, enjoying the way he was looking at her.
Inside, she was practically vibrating, her skin buzzing under his gaze.
“Thanks for looking after my clothes,” she said, taking the mug he held out.
Spinning on her heel, she made her way to the couch.
Enjoy the rear view, Ethan Knight.