CHAPTER 49
ARYAN
There are days when work actually demands my attention. I mean, it always does but I believe in delegation and I tend to do that. Numbers don’t flirt back. Contracts don’t roll their eyes at me. Deadlines don’t blush and look away when I say something they pretend not to like.
They just sit there, being very demanding and unromantic, not phased by my charm. I’ve been at my desk since morning, going through reports, signing things that apparently require my signature to exist in the world, listening to people explain projections like they’re narrating a thriller.
I’m focused which isn’t new but it feels different after Ishika walked into my life. Because somewhere in the middle of all of this, she always had my attention.
Like even right now, I can’t stop thinking about the way she looked last night with her head tucked under my chin. The way she went quiet when she talked about wanting answers. The way she still tries to act like she doesn’t care when she clearly does.
Dating Ishika—I’ve learned—is a lot like trying to befriend a very beautiful, emotionally unavailable cat. Not because she’s cold. People who don’t know her would probably describe her that way. Sharp edges. Minimal patience. Permanent suspicion toward anything that resembles vulnerability.
But that’s not it. She isn’t cold. She’s cautious.
There’s a difference and a very important one.
Cold people don’t soften the way she does when she thinks no one is looking.
Cold people don’t carefully rinse out steel tiffins before returning them because “your mother will judge me if I send this back dirty.” Cold people definitely do not save my failed, rock-solid muffins in their fridge like they’re something worth preserving.
Cold people don’t notice when you get hurt.
Cold people don’t look at you like you matter when they forget to guard their expression.
She does. Every time. Even when she pretends she doesn’t. Even when she’s busy building walls again five minutes later.
And I—I think I’ve become someone who notices all of it. Which is probably why, when the door to my office opens around lunch—I look up immediately. And there she is. Standing there like she belongs here. Like she’s always belonged here.
There’s a small paper bag in her hand. I can hear Ajay ramble about something in the background, but I don’t think anything else can take my attention when Ishika is in the room.
“Did you forget how to speak?” she asks, raising a brow when I don’t respond immediately. I lean back in my chair slowly, letting my gaze drag over her in a way that I know will annoy her.
“Just appreciating,” I say.
Ajay clears his throat. Poor man. Wrong place. Wrong time.
“Sir, the contract—”
“Can wait,” I say without looking at him. My eyes stay on her.
“What’s that?” I nod toward the bag in her hand.
“Food,” she says, like it’s obvious.
“For?”
“For you.” I tilt my head slightly and I can feel the smile that’s forming on my face, because my girlfriend bringing food for me…miracle.
“You brought me food?”
She shrugs, like it’s nothing. “You usually bring your own,” she says. “You didn’t today.”
I didn’t. I knew I was going to have a busy day, besides Ma wasn’t well and I didn’t feel like cooking. “And you noticed,” I murmur.
She rolls her eyes. “I have eyes.”
“I’m glad you use them on me.”
Ajay coughs again and I grin. Ishika shoots me a look.
“Don’t” she mutters under her breath.
“Don’t what, Sunshine?” I feign an innocent smile as I raise an eyebrow loving the way she’s getting worked up.
“Be like this in front of people.”
“Like what?” I ask, fully aware I’m pushing it.
“Insufferable.” Ajay suddenly finds the file in his hand extremely interesting. I lean forward slightly, resting my elbows on the desk.
“You walked into my office,” I say, voice softer now. “Brought me food.”
She narrows her eyes. “That’s basic human decency.”
“Is it?” I tilt my head. “Because it feels a lot like care.”
Her cheeks flush. There it is. My favourite reaction.
I love how she’s so calm and does actually enjoy the flirting or even snuggling when we are at her home but as soon as I meet her in office, there’s a one hundred eighty degree change to her personality and I get it that she’s trying to be professional but man the way she reacts to me is my favorite and I will do anything to see that glare while she turns red from anger, embarrassment and maybe my flirting does the effect too.
“I don’t have time for this,” she says quickly, stepping forward and placing the bag on my desk. “Eat before it gets cold.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She glares and my smile only grows wider. Ajay clears his throat again, clearly debating whether to disappear or stay professional. I decide to make his life a bit easier. “Ajay,” I say without breaking eye contact with her, “anything urgent?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” He nods. And very wisely takes my hint and leaves.
The second the door shuts—She exhales and turns to me fully. “What is wrong with you?” she demands.
“Many things,” I say calmly. “Be specific.”
“That,” she gestures vaguely, “whatever that was.”
“I was flirting.”
“You were embarrassing me.”
“You were blushing.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is to me.” She presses her lips together, clearly trying not to react. Fails.
“I came here to give you food,” she says, quieter now. “Not to be…whatever that was.”
I push my chair back slightly and stand. Walk around the desk very slowly, her eyes never leaving mine “What?” she asks when I stop in front of her.
I don’t answer immediately. Just look at her. Take her in. The way she’s trying to stay annoyed. The way her fingers fidget slightly at her side. The way her eyes don’t quite hold mine for too long.
“Thank you for bringing me lunch, Sunshine.” Her expression shifts. My hand finding her waist, pulling her closer before she can decide whether she wants to step back.
“Aryan—”
Too late. I kiss her. Like I’ve been wanting to do it since she walked in. Her breath catches immediately. Her hands press lightly against my chest—not pushing me away. I tilt my head slightly, deepening it just enough to make her forget whatever she was about to say. She does. Completely.
When I pull back—Her eyes are unfocused. Lips slightly parted. Breathing uneven.
And for a second—she just stares at me. Like I’ve knocked the words out of her.
I smile satisfied as she stands there gaping at me. “Desserts before food is the new right way to eat,” I wink at her and walk back to my desk chuckling silently as I hear her stomp and leave the office.