thirteen Too Close for Comfort #2
I meant to tell her yes—I was safe and sound, albeit stuck at the office.
What came out instead was a flood of frantic, unhinged word vomit.
‘I’m fine, I’m in the office, it’s flooding, I’m stuck here with Neil, yes Neil, and he was wet …
and his abs and his stupid face and this stupid rain and he picked today of all days to suddenly be smart and come up with a brilliant idea and now—’ I sucked in a sharp breath.
‘Now he seems so much hotter for no reason and I think my brain has melted into some kind of horny soup and I can’t stop thinking about him shirtless and I don’t know what to do …
how do I make it go away?’ When I finally stopped talking, I was gasping and slightly dizzy.
There was a long silence on the other end before Nikita’s voice came through, calm and amused. ‘Babe, it sounds like you have a crush.’
I blew a raspberry into the receiver. ‘Shut up, I do not.’
‘No, this is so great.’ She was beginning to sound breathless too. ‘You’re literally living every romcom girlie’s dream right now. Stranded in the office in the middle of a storm with the hot dude you’ve been hating on? Come on.’
She didn’t wait for me to respond. ‘Babe, you have a chance to do it at your workplace. That’s been on my bucket list for ages!’
‘Nikita—’
‘The conference room, your boss’ desk, the washroom … the world is your oyster.’
‘Oh my God, you need to stop.’ I was mortified.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Neil getting up from the bench with the plastic bowls in his hands.
I quickly turned my back to him, worried that if he saw my face, he’d somehow read every inappropriate thought Nikita had just planted in my head.
‘I’m just saying, it’s a great opportunity.’
‘I’m going to hang up now, okay?’ I disconnected the call and stood there for a moment, forcing myself to inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth.
Note to self: Do not ask Nikita for life advice unless you want to be pushed off a cliff without a parachute.
Rajat’s office felt less intimidating with the overhead lights off.
We’d killed the fluorescent glare an hour ago because it was giving me a headache and switched on the lone floor lamp in the corner.
It threw a warm puddle of light over the couch and the coffee table, leaving the rest of the room in a dark shadow.
I’m not sure when it happened exactly, but the awkwardness and the hyper-awareness of being stranded here with Neil had dulled as the hours slipped by and we got deeper and deeper in conversation.
I had stopped bothering to check the Uber app a while ago—there was no point.
The deafening thunder had made it pretty clear that nobody was going home anytime soon.
By midnight, we had slipped into the kind of comfort that was far too familiar for two people who’d only met about a month ago (and had hated each other’s guts for most of it).
‘But still … two and a half years is a long time to be single,’ Neil was saying from where he was seated on the other end of the couch, one leg folded under him and an arm thrown lazily over the backrest. ‘You’re not that annoying.’
I was sitting on the couch with my knees tightly tucked under my chin and a knitted Jharokha blanket draped over my torso, but that didn’t stop me from trying to kick him.
He caught my ankle mid-air, his warm fingers wrapping firmly around my foot.
A tremor ran down my leg and disappeared somewhere deep inside my abdomen.
It’s a good thing I had a blanket to cover me, because my sleeveless kurta was not doing a good job of hiding all my goosebumps.
‘Let go!’ I shrieked, though it came out as a half-giggle.
‘No,’ he said simply, holding my gaze. ‘Not until you stop trying to assault me every five minutes.’ And then, without warning, he gently tugged on my foot. My body slid down until I was flat on my back with my head on the armrest … and my foot had ended up squarely in his lap.
Maybe the world really was going to end tonight, because I didn’t feel the need to pull it back.
‘You didn’t try the apps and stuff?’ Neil asked casually, as if this was a perfectly normal seating arrangement.
I tried to ignore my racing heart. ‘A little bit … went on a couple of dates a year ago. But I couldn’t keep it up. I don’t have the time or energy to date around.’
He let out a dry laugh. ‘What’s keeping you so busy, huh?’
‘Yeah, well, between work and my debilitating commute, I have zero bandwidth on weekdays. And weekends are strictly for recharging. Why would I waste them getting all dolled up to blow my salary on an overpriced meal and a guy whose idea of fun is talking about crypto?’
‘Why are these men making you pay on a date?’ He frowned, his voice dropping just a little. ‘I would never.’
My stomach flipped. Was he flirting with me? Before I could decide how to feel about that, a yawn escaped me. Neil noticed immediately. ‘You’re tired,’ he said softly.
‘Well, it is past my bedtime.’ I grumbled, pulling the blanket down so it covered all of me … and a little bit of him.
‘Mine too.’ He shifted on the couch, unfolding his tucked leg and stretching both his long legs out so they ended up on either side of mine. Beneath the fabric of our jeans, our knees brushed against each other. Neither of us moved away.
‘So,’ he said after a moment, ‘Is there anything you actually like about this city? Because so far all I’ve heard is hateful bashing.’
‘I don’t hate it.’
‘You sound like you do.’
‘I don’t,’ I insisted, tucking the blanket tighter around my legs—our legs—as another yawn hit. ‘It’s just … not what I’d imagined.’
‘What had you imagined it’d be like?’
‘Like I’d come here and find a shitty apartment I could DIY into something cute and cozy …
like I’d spend hours on a terrace watching the city’s skyline …
like I’d meet neighbours and strangers and boys who’d want to get to know me, and snap stunning, candid photos of me …
like I’d become the kind of girl those things happened to.
’ I sank deeper into the couch, letting the blanket cover a part of my face to make up for how exposed I was beginning to feel.
‘Kavya, those things happen to nobody.’ His throaty chuckle travelled through the blanket. ‘Besides, Wake Up Sid is not even a good Bombay movie.’
‘Well, which Bombay movie do you like?’ I borrowed his term for the city that locals like him often preferred to the official name. If I had a rupee for every time a resident has told me ‘Mumbai is a city but Bombay is an emotion’ …
‘Munna Bhai,’ he said without missing a beat.
If I wasn’t completely wiped out, I would’ve laughed harder.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, smiling into my chest. ‘I just didn’t take you for a jaadu ki jhappi kind of guy.’
‘I’m full of surprises.’
‘I’m beginning to realize that,’ I said as my eyes started to drift shut.
It wasn’t long before we both dozed off, curled up on opposite ends of the couch, our legs tangled under the blanket as the rain continued to wash over the city.