Chapter 28
Emmeline spent the rest of her birthday at her parents’ place.
Samreen was back from Millie’s and made Emmeline a special birthday dinner of mutton korma with homemade naans, and kheer for dessert. The rice pudding was one of Emmeline’s favorite desserts, but it took hours to make, which was why Samreen refused to make it except for her birthday.
Emmeline was glad her mom was home; Samreen seemed more relaxed. Emmeline knew it was probably overwhelming for Samreen to be at Millie’s with all the kids, which was why she had been a bit highly strung.
The next day, Emmeline had work at Inferno, and after, she went to the bookshop. She didn’t really need to spend as much time at the bookshop anymore, since she had done most of the work for her proposal, but she still liked seeing Luke every day.
When she was apart from him, she spent her time thinking about when she would see him again, and when they were together, she was entirely present in the moment with him, not wanting it to slip away.
The week passed in bliss. She hardly got any work done as they distracted one another, stealing kisses when they should have been working, talking when they should have been focused.
They fell into an easy routine, one that made her feel as if it had always existed.
After spending a few hours at the bookshop, they would get dinner someplace in town or in Bayview, a date for every night.
After, they would walk around the lit streets or the lake, talking and kissing and laughing.
They had so much to talk about, an entire lifetime’s worth.
She hadn’t had so much fun in a long time, and each day was just as good as the last, if not better.
On Friday, they didn’t meet at the bookshop; instead, she went over to his place. Emmeline made sure to wear the earrings Luke had gifted her—she had been wearing them almost every day—and when he opened the door, his brown eyes lit up with warmth.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. She loved making him happy. Closing the door behind her, he pulled her into a hug. She melted against him, utterly safe in his arms.
“Hi.” He was wearing a casual outfit for once, a sweatshirt and sweatpants rather than his usual dress shirt and trousers, and she liked seeing this different side of him.
He wasn’t wearing any rings, either, and while she loved his ringed fingers, she liked his hands like this, too, completely bare. She twined their fingers together.
He kissed her cheek, then led her inside, and she held onto his hand, hugging his arm. It had been over a week, which wasn’t a very long time, but Emmeline felt as if they had been together for ages.
At the same time, every moment also felt brand-new, like she was uncovering some hidden treasure. Being with him felt as comforting as reading her favorite book, and yet with every reread, there was something new to explore and discover.
She followed Luke to the living room, where Rhea was sitting with the baby chimeras at her feet.
“Emmy, hi,” Rhea said, smiling brightly when she saw her.
“Hi.” Emmeline went over to hug her hello, then tucked her hair behind her ears to show Rhea the earrings. Rhea beamed.
“Oh, they suit you so well!” she said, touching the end of the chandbali earrings. They made a little jingling sound.
“I adore them,” Emmeline told her. “Thank you again.”
Rhea looked at Luke. “See, I told you she’d like them.”
He rolled his eyes fondly. “Yes, yes, as always, you are right.”
“I finally finished their sweaters,” Rhea told them. “Will you help me get the babies into them?”
She showed them the sweaters she had knitted; one was a buttery yellow while the other was a sky blue. “Adorable!” Emmeline affirmed. She picked up Butternut while Luke picked up Squash, and they both wrestled the bleating baby chimeras into the sweaters, which were perfect fits.
Rhea smiled, overjoyed, and Butternut leapt from Emmeline’s arms to snuggle in Rhea’s lap. Squash soon followed.
Then, Luke led Emmeline to his room, which was in a separate section of the house. It was kind of like a studio apartment with a kitchenette, and after he closed the door behind her, it felt like they were completely separate, in their own private space.
Emmeline looked around, taking in every detail. She hadn’t been in his room before, and he let her explore, making them chai on the little stove. His place was clean and simple, everything white and black.
There was a board with pinned photographs, and she looked over them. While they showed various ages and times, the characters were constant: Sharptooth, Farhan, his parents, and the Din siblings.
“This is so sweet,” she said, pointing to a photo. It was Luke with the Din girls. He must have been about eight in the photo, and the girls were hanging off him, a toddler on his back and the other two on either side of him.
He came over, handing her a mug of chai. He took a sip from his own mug as he looked at the photo she was pointing at, smiling.
“Since I’m the oldest, I was always in charge,” he said. “Basim and Farhan were probably off getting into trouble somewhere.”
“Really?” she asked, surprised. “Basim seems so serious.”
“He is a lot more serious now, but when we were kids, he was as bad as Farhan,” Luke told her.
“So it was always me looking after the girls. You don’t want to know how many times I was forced into their games.
They’d either be sticking butterfly clips in my hair or trying to paint my nails or who knows what else. ”
Emmeline laughed at the thought. “That is adorable,” she said, sipping her chai, which was perfectly made. “You’re good at taking care of people.”
It was a quality she greatly admired. She was so used to taking care of things herself, but around Luke, it felt like she could trust him. He was competent.
“So are you,” Luke told her. “I’ve seen the way you are with your friends and family—you do so much for everyone.”
She shrugged. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” he said.
She ambled over to his bookshelf, looking through his collection.
“So many of these books look untouched,” she said, running her hand along some of the spines.
“I haven’t got the chance to read all of them, yet,” he told her.
“How can you buy books you haven’t read?” she asked, dumbfounded.
“Because I want to read them.”
“What if you don’t like it? Then it’s just taking up space on your shelf.”
He gave her a funny look. “Do you only buy books you’ve read and liked?”
“Yes! I only buy books that I would reread.”
“Interesting.” He made a thoughtful sound. “But then that takes half the fun out of perusing at bookshops.”
“Mm, not really,” she said. “It’s still fun just to walk around, even if you aren’t going to buy anything.” It made her think of Tales she was focused on him. She looked up at him as he read, watching him: the sweep of his hair, the line of his jaw, the brown of his eyes. His eyes were the color of her favorite coffee-roast.
And his voice—deep and a little rough. There was a particular cadence with which he spoke, and she touched a hand to his throat, wanting to feel the vibrations against her fingers, as if she could capture his voice in her palm.
Everything about him seemed entirely one of a kind, like there was no one else like him and there never would be. As if he was made specifically for her.
He continued reading until the passage finished, then took her hand from his throat. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her palm, his eyes questioning what she had been doing.
She felt shy, so she didn’t respond. She loved his voice. She had just wanted to feel it against her skin.
He must have seen something in her eyes because he leaned over to kiss her cheek. She sat up, and he set the book aside, hands going to her waist. His eyes burned into hers, and she leaned in for a kiss.
Heat poured through her as his lips pressed against hers, her pulse quickening in response to his touch. She held onto his shoulders, and he pulled her onto his lap, bringing her closer. She slotted over him, her knees on either side of his hips as he deepened the kiss.
His movements turned frantic, his fingers digging into her hips. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and her stomach flipped, desire pooling low in her belly.
She reached for the edge of his sweatshirt, and he pulled it off, revealing his bare skin. She moved her hands across his chest, feeling every contour and dip, greedily exploring the solid feel of him. He made a desperate sound as her hands went lower.
Then, in a quick maneuver, he had them flipped until she was flat on her back, resting against the pillows, his body hovering above hers. His teeth scraped against her skin as he kissed her throat.
Her body was pulled taut, aching as he trailed kisses over her collar, down to her heart. She held onto his shoulders, nails digging into his bare skin. He lifted up her sweater, pressing a kiss to her stomach.
She made a soft whimper, and his hands went to the waist of her skirt. Her heart pounded against her chest. She brought her hand over his, urging him to continue. He lowered her skirt an inch, kissing her below her belly button, and desire pulsed through her, making her dizzy.
“Please,” she whispered, throwing her head back.
He pulled her skirt and underwear down to her ankles. He kissed her between her legs, and she gasped, holding onto his hair. Heat poured through her, gathering in intensity as he continued to kiss her and kiss her until she was overcome with pleasure.
After, he lifted up, a smug smile on his face as he looked her over. He touched her cheek. “Em,” he said, voice rough. “I really, really like you in pink.”
She felt her cheeks growing warmer, her blush surely deepening, and he smiled.
Her chest tightened. And she knew.
She was falling in love with him. She suspected a part of herself had fallen in love with him all those years ago, but she had buried it so deeply, and now it was rushing to the surface, impossible to ignore.