Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
Bhanu
The air sparked around us. Was Sunny…touching my butt, and more importantly, did I like it? I did not, could not, be attracted to Sunny. Ludicrous, unsound, to feel this way about a grump who’d made it his career goal to irk me at work every single day.
However, twisted insides and roller-coaster thrills and a fired-up body were telling my brain to shut up. If the chemical reactions raging through me could be a voice, they would collectively say, “Sunny is getting your dried-out wheels lubricated. You need this.”
Ugh. The obvious explanation was that this stupid fantasy tied up into the fact that I hadn’t been touched by a man in a long time had finally unraveled any good sense.
For however long this interaction lasted, I allowed myself to enjoy it. But never would I cave. I would never melt into him, never squeeze him back, never flirt, never let him know what his touch did to me, never act on these ridiculous impulses. Never, ever, ever.
At some point, we had to part. Sejal had brought a basket of breads, sweets, fruit, and cheese onboard. We hadn’t had time for breakfast this morning, and this was a welcome treat.
“Please, help yourself,” she told me. “And I’m so sorry. Truly.”
Sunny, even while biting into a croissant, seemed suspicious.
“Perhaps I didn’t respond well,” I began to say when Sunny wrapped an arm around my waist and pecked my hair, stirring butterflies in my belly. But I had to remember that he was playing a part, and maybe he was even acting more for his ex.
“You responded correctly,” he said.
Sejal’s shoulders deflated, and here I was truly expecting her to snap. I really wanted to know so many things that no well-mannered person would ask in this moment, but…what the heck happened between these two and did they still have feelings for each other? Was Sejal jealous? Was Sunny playing her game? Slowly, the idea of him wanting her back turned sour.
I chewed on decadent goat cheese and rustic bread knowing this was going to make me bloat in a matter of minutes, but I didn’t care. It tasted so good. And I needed something to do.
“I did not mean to manipulate anything,” she confessed, then said to Sunny, “But I’m glad that you’ve moved on and are doing…better.”
“Better” didn’t sound like a compliment, not the way Sunny tensed.
Maya and April, who wore cover-ups shaped like short kaftan dresses, joined us with effervescence and excitement about breaking out the bubbly. I’d learned that Aamar and Maya had sprung for the boat and Sejal had brought all the drinks and food.
Sunny excused himself to find the restroom, and shortly after, April took a call and Maya had to calm her down from a possible “flower disaster.” I didn’t envy brides, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I mused over how Indian brides got through planning multiple events and days of traditions and parties.
Sejal didn’t slip away to calm her friend. She must’ve seen my curiosity because she explained, “I’m backup. I have no idea how to fix wedding things. Honestly, Aamar and Maya have taken that role and they’ve been pretty good at it. I might keep them in mind when my wedding arrives.”
“Are you and Pradeep considering marriage?”
She shrugged. “That was my hope, but he’s not there yet. There was only one person I’d gotten that far with…”
Her voice trailed off as she plucked a grape from its stem and popped it into her mouth.
I quietly observed.
She said, “He must’ve told you our history?”
Ah, so she did mean Sunny was the one she’d wanted to marry, the one who got away.
I didn’t respond; instead I watched her through my polarized shades. My dad had often dealt with people who talked their heads off, liked to argue or shove their privilege down others’ throats, and what he’d learned was to stay quiet. If a person was trying to argue or push a point and the other person refused to argue back, it deflated their antagonization. If he let that person argue until they had nothing left to say, he found that they’d often shut up and realize that he didn’t care and/or they didn’t have much of an argument in the first place. Those people eventually stopped arguing with him, stopped trying to push their narrative onto him, and grew less assured about their stances.
Papa had said it was interesting to watch people with pointless views unravel themselves in the quiet.
Maybe I’d learned my take of no-drama from my father. And this was a brilliant tactic. It worked every time.
Sejal had been saying, “We dated for a long time, were thinking about engagement, you know? Of course you know. Our parents are good friends, and everyone was expecting him to propose, but well, things weren’t at the level they needed to be.”
I didn’t move or utter a sound, yet my body was relaxed.
Sejal, on the other hand, fidgeted with the stem in her hand and her expression subtly changed every couple of sentences. She’d started with haughty, then a tinge of annoyance, a pause for jealousy, annoyance again, and then her confidence eventually broke into uncertainty. Not about the story she was telling—it was probably true—but about my reaction. Or lack thereof.
“We were serious, obviously. But Sunny is a workaholic. All he cares about is work. I wanted more, needed more. He kept saying he was trying, but he wasn’t. Finally, I’d had enough.” She scoffed, as if Sunny had deeply traumatized her. “It wasn’t my fault that I went to someone else who understood.”
At that, I reacted, my brows coming together in a scowl. She’d cheated on him?
“Oh. I mean I left him for someone else, not Pradeep. It was a fling, but I don’t cheat. Anyway. I worked on Sunny for so long, and he improved. I’m sure my work must’ve paid off; he’s come a long way. You seem happy with him.”
No response. Was she expecting me to…thank her?
She shifted under my impassive glare, as if my silence was making her uncomfortable. She tucked hair behind her ear, her once confident gaze flitting to her feet. She swallowed. All signs that she was losing her conviction, questioning herself, maybe even questioning her motive for telling me all this, whatever that might be.
“Was that right?”
I wasn’t sure what she was referring to. It wasn’t right for her to take credit for who he was today.
“I didn’t have a choice. He forced my hand. But anyway. Here we are. I think he’s still mad at me. But it worked out! I hope all the work I did on him doesn’t unravel on you. He’s the type you have to keep after.”
I still hadn’t budged more than the in and out of my chest in regulated breaths.
“I guess…I’m telling you all this because if you want him to be attentive in any way, you really have to work and stay on top of it. And if you don’t mind, then good. But you should have a clear expectation with him.”
On the surface, none of this was cruel or malicious. She wasn’t trying to break us up, I didn’t think. But there was an underlying tone of something. Warning? Passing on intel?
“Oh, I hope that doesn’t affect how you feel about him.”
I smiled. “We seem to have had two totally different versions of Sunny.”
Her expression fell, if only for a second.
Her phone rang and her lips tipped in a smile. “How awkward. His parents are calling me. I have to answer.”
She held up a finger, as if I’d been talking or even interested in this one-sided conversation, and just like that, all her hubris resurfaced.
The video call was on full display for everyone when Sunny reemerged.
Sejal exclaimed, “Hi!…I’m good! How are you?…It’s been an entire two weeks since we’ve talked!…Look at where we’re at!…Yes, of course, Sunny is right here!”
She’d turned the camera to him, and he waved, albeit confused.
“The entire gang is here! Sam and April, Aamar and Maya.” She went around showing his parents everyone. Except me.
It shouldn’t have bothered me. It didn’t. I was the outsider to their college gang. His parents had no idea I existed, nor should they.
Sejal focused the camera on everyone, one by one, as they returned the greeting with waves and cheers and wishing how they could have made it.
Sunny glanced at me almost apologetically. With my shades on, he couldn’t tell if this bothered me. It didn’t. I wasn’t part of his world or hers or theirs. But as a fake boyfriend, shouldn’t he say something about me?
No, of course not. He wouldn’t want his parents involved in our little charade. Still, there was a touch of isolation and feeling wholly left out when his ex’s current boyfriend was waving back at his parents like he knew them, too.
And just like that, the tendrils of anxiety sprouted at the base of my skull. This small group that I’d been around long enough, who had made me feel welcomed, became a blur. Suddenly, the heat was rising, my shoulders were deflating, and my gut was turning heavy. My brain knew this was nothing to get panicked over, but my body caved to the throes of social anxiety. I was typically prepared to battle it going into a party or a crowd, sometimes even a movie theater or a concert. Other times, the unrelenting slide into obscurity came from nowhere, for no reason, and I wanted to fall through the floor of this boat and let the ocean swallow me.
“Yes! Let’s get a picture!” Sejal exclaimed.
She faced me, holding the phone out to capture everyone smiling behind her.
“Wait! What about Bhanu!” April exclaimed.
“No, don’t pressure her,” Sunny said as I shook my head and waved them off and even flashed a smile, despite resisting the urge to escape into a corner.
I didn’t want this lie encapsulated in any of these wedding memories, much less to meet Sunny’s parents this way. Fortunately, the call ended shortly afterward, when it was time to snorkel. I gulped water in an effort to chase off anxiety before it became a full panic attack, and I offered to be the unofficial photographer to, one, have something to do; two, avoid being in said pictures; and three, not get roped into getting into the water.
Besides, taking pictures of a happy couple and cheerful friends was fun. It focused my thoughts and actions, allowing me to gather full control over any lingering bits of anxiety.
Sunny was quietly watching me when he walked toward me. He didn’t touch me, and I was surprised by how much I wanted his hand on my waist, a reassurance and grounding. How strange. While I didn’t like most people touching me, I’d never been bothered by Sunny’s touch.
His brows were narrowed, worried, and I immediately told him, “No heat exhaustion. It’s early enough in the day and plenty of shade and water. I promise.”
His look of concern didn’t wane. “Is there something else that’s wrong?”
“No,” I replied with a smile, neither wanting to share nor wanting to dampen his fun. “Go! Stop using me as an excuse not to party.”
“Okay. Just…tell me if something is wrong.”
I nodded and off he went, but only after Aamar had yelled for him.
I snapped shots of the bubbly—best to be served after water activities—and of everyone getting ready with gear, hugs, and sneak kisses, peace signs, heart signs, and everything under the sun when I noticed Sejal slurping the last of her iced coffee.
She had brought a Starbucks drink onboard, one of the few places on island still phasing out plastic straws. When she pulled the straw out to lick a remnant of whipped cream at the bottom, it slipped from her hand and fell into the water. My heart dropped as I lurched for the straw. My body nearly dangled over the edge before Sunny grabbed my waist and hoisted me back.
“Whoa. Are you okay?” he asked.
Sunny had my back flush against his chest, an arm around me as if I were trying to jump overboard into a frenzy of sharks. He peered over the edge. “What did you lose?”
“Oh, it’s just a straw,” Sejal replied.
“That could hurt an animal,” I corrected her.
“Don’t worry about it.” Sejal waved us off and sashayed away.
I bit back my words, pressing my lips together, but no amount of tension could ease the fumes sprouting out of my nostrils. I’d helped Diya and Kimo on many of their eco-volunteering passes. I’d already loved honu, but once I saw Kimo pull out a bloody straw from one’s nostril, watching helplessly as the turtle yawned in pain, in quiet screams, I’d never loved an animal so much. Every plastic straw gave me flashbacks of that sea turtle.
“You’re shaking. Are you sure you’re okay?” Sunny asked, still holding me like I might jump over.
I dragged in a breath and pushed him off. “It’s not just a straw.”
I walked away when I could no longer see that clear piece of deadly plastic floating around. Ooh, the confined rage. I wanted to curse Sejal out so badly, but I didn’t want to make a scene. These weren’t people in passing on a beach where I could tell them to leave honu alone like the signs said as I walked by.
Sunny approached me, touching my arm, letting his hand slip down to my wrist. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled.
“Don’t do that. You’re going to be in a corner fuming over some shit no one knows about.”
“Oh? Would that exasperate you? Embarrass you?”
“No,” he said pointedly. “I don’t want you having a bad time here, not when I dragged you along.”
“As if you really care?”
“I mean, you started this domino effect, but yes. It would weigh heavily on my conscience.”
“It’ll pass.”
“But it was something. Obviously triggering. I’ve…never seen you pissed.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. Had I never been upset in front of him? Wow, did I know how to keep my crap together at work or what.
He was still holding my wrist, something we both seemed to glance at but neither of us let go of. “Did she say something?” The cut of his jaw turned into a sharp line.
Was he angry? Because Sejal said something mean, or because she’d made me upset? “Not exactly.”
“Tell me.”
I let out a rough breath and looked at the railing where the straw had fallen from. Others were tiptoeing toward swimming, waiting for someone else to go in first.
“She let a plastic straw fall into the ocean and didn’t give a crap.”
Sunny arched a brow. “Okay. I’ll talk to her about pollution.”
“It’s not that…it’s…here. Watch this.”
I pulled out my phone and showed him the very graphic video I took of Kimo extracting a straw from a honu’s nostril with pliers. The amount of strength it took to hold down the terrified animal, the amount of delicate skill it took for Kimo to pull out the straw without hurting the turtle, the way one could hear my sobs in the background.
Sunny looked at me. I blinked away, realizing how on the verge of tears I was. Maybe that straw wouldn’t end up hurting marine life. Maybe it wouldn’t get stuck inside an animal or get lodged in a nostril or a throat or a stomach. But chances were, it would. Sejal didn’t care. Was she even aware these things happened?
“Let’s go!” Sam called at the edge of the boat, diving in after Aamar and Maya.
Sunny grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. He handed it to me, and I didn’t know whether to stare at the shirt in my hands in all of my confusion, or at his defined chest, ridged abs, and a very delectable V-shape at the hips where his trunks sat a little too low. And now I was utterly pissed because he’d ignored me and all it took was a shirtless Sunny for me to momentarily forget about dying endangered sea turtles.
He walked away. So he didn’t care. Wasn’t sure why that surprised me.
He jumped into the ocean. Wait. Hadn’t he mentioned how he would never swim in the wild? Did he think I was overreacting so much so that he literally leapt into his worst fears to get away from me?
I nearly collapsed against the wall of the cabin behind me, exhausted. I couldn’t wait until we got off this boat. This deal was so over. He could keep up the lie or not, but I wasn’t going to spend one more second around Sunny or his clueless ex. Maybe all his friends polluted and didn’t give a flying crap about how their actions hurt others.
April was at the railing, waving me over. I abided, but only because she was the bride, and it wasn’t her fault she got caught in the middle of this emotional fiasco.
“What are you doing way over there by yourself?”
“Taking a breather,” I said as cheerfully as I could manage.
“Are you going to get in?”
“Not my thing. Floating around in the ocean is terrifying. Aren’t you going?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
“No! Go! Please. Don’t hang back for me. This is all for you.”
April smiled and then drifted her attention to the water, where Sejal was complaining, “What are you looking for? We’re supposed to be snorkeling and having fun! Let it go!”
To the right, Sunny, Sam, Aamar, Maya, and Pradeep were looking for something. My guess? Manta rays or something that came out at night, so they weren’t ever going to spot them.
“Found it! Thanks!” Sunny called back, clutching something in his hand as he swam back to the boat. He hurried up the ladder and went for a towel. He wore a look of shock edging toward trauma when he wiped his face and arms.
“I thought you hated the water,” I called out to him.
“I do. Here,” he said, holding out something.
“What?” I asked, annoyed but walking toward him nonetheless.
In his hand, Sunny held a plastic straw. My brain, my body, froze before jerking back to life. “Did you…just jump into your worst fears to find the straw Sejal dropped into the ocean?”
“Yeah,” he said, out of breath. “Can’t endanger any more endangered animals, can we?”
He licked his lips. I could freaking kiss this man in all his sultry, water-beading-down-his-naked-torso glory.
My heart spasmed and then filled with so much bubbling gratitude and hope for humanity that I swung my arms around him and crashed into his cold, hard, wet body. I held on to him as if he’d saved my life. “Oh my god. That was so sweet of you. Thank you.”
He’d gone rigid, but an arm fell around my waist as he muttered into my hair, “I did it for the turtles; don’t know why you think everything is about you.”
I laughed into his slippery neck.
Sunny’s hold tightened. Both arms were now wrapped around me. He was hugging me, gently holding me against him. And not in passing seconds, but what felt like long minutes. He felt incredibly solid, slick, welcoming. Were we having a moment? No bickering, no snark, no tension, just a kind embrace. Maybe even more than that as his chin tilted down. I could very well kiss this man, swept away in this moment.
But it was just a moment.
All right. We’d been hugging for way too long, and when I pulled away, my clothes were damp in the front and clinging to my body, revealing the bright colors of my swimwear underneath.
Sunny glanced down appreciatively (or was that in my head?), before dragging his eyes back to mine. His skin flushed.
“Don’t say it,” I muttered.
The corner of his mouth slowly arched up. Sunny leaned down, brushing his lips against my cheek when he whispered, “I got you all wet, Bane.”
I practically growled. Ugh. Way to ruin a nice moment, but also, holy crap, way to relubricate my dry wheels.
He went to the edge of the boat, held up the straw for all to see, and yelled, “Don’t trash the water again. I’m not going back in there!”
There he was, ardently warning his friends, beaded skin glistening in the sun like a sheath of diamonds, his hair slicked back, his muscular back and shoulders on full display with rivulets of water skimming his taut flesh, and his trunks hugging him in all the right places.
I drew my lip in between my teeth, devouring the sight of him as he stood over the railing like some water-soaked saver of sea turtles. And that was, without a doubt, the hottest thing a guy had ever done for me.