There's Something About Sweetie(66)

She looked up at him and smiled, slaying him with that dimple. “You okay?”

“I am now.” It was true, he realized. Everything felt good, peaceful.

She looked down at her feet, still smiling. Oh God. The adorability—that was a word, right?—was too much. Suddenly Ashish couldn’t remember why he’d ever been wary of asking his parents to set him up.

He grabbed Sweetie’s hand and they began walking. “So, are you a basketball star too? Is your plan to just completely annihilate me in every sport?”

She laughed, the sound lighting up the quiet night. “No. This is all about you feeling like a star.”

“Oh yeah?” He let go of her hand and turned to her, running his fingers lightly up her arm, delighting in her shivering. “Because there are a few things besides basketball that could make me feel like that.”

Sweetie looked away and swatted at him, smiling. “Behave.”

He held up his hands, thinking, Man, no one does shy more beautifully than Sweetie.

“I think we should play a round of basketball. Maybe get you to enjoy it again.” She paused, biting her lip, as if she wasn’t sure how he’d receive what she was about to say next. “I ran into Oliver tonight, and he told me you’re still not feeling it.” He crossed his arms, trying not to get defensive, and she put a small hand on his arm. “I just want to help. I can’t imagine anything worse than not being able to enjoy running anymore.”

Ashish forced himself to smile. She was clearly trying to make him feel better; there was no hint of pity or Get over it already in her eyes. “That’s sweetie of you.”

“Ha ha.” Sweetie raised an eyebrow. “You can’t deflect me that easily, Mr. Patel.”

Judging by her outthrust chin, she wasn’t going to let this go. “Okay, fine.” Ashish let out a breath. “It has been pretty sucky.”

She looked at him, those dark eyes like the most expensive black velvet, soft and infinite. “I can only imagine.” Then, standing on tiptoe, she placed the gentlest, lightest kiss on his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth.

Ashish literally could not think of a single word to say.

“So this is my plan,” she continued, completely oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

“Mmm, yes, plan,” Ashish mumbled, blinking the lusty gauze curtain away.

“I want to have a basketball game, maybe something like horse. But we’re going to make it interesting.”

“Oh yeah?” Ashish raised an eyebrow. He could feel all parts of himself tuning in.

“Yeah. We can pick each other’s positions to try to make the basket—the harder the better, obviously. And we have to sing the national anthem while we try to make the basket. You know, to make things interesting.”

Positions. Harder. Ashish was trying really hard not to be a perv, but this was getting a little out of hand. She had said nothing to justify the thoughts running through his head. Get a grip, jeez. Pun wholly intended. “The national anthem, huh?”

“Oh, and I almost forgot.” Sweetie stepped closer, her head tipped up to look at him. “For every basket you make, I’ll kiss you.” Her eyes glittered, and her mouth turned up in a half smile that nearly brought him to his knees. “And you seem to like my kissing, so.”

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t completely oblivious to the effect she had on him.




Sweetie had no idea where all that sass had come from. She had never, ever even dreamed of talking to a boy like this, let alone allow the words to actually leave her mouth. It was like pretending to be Sassy Sweetie was actually changing how she thought about herself. It was making her confidence level rise, melting those icy barriers she’d built before to keep out people who said she had very little to offer.

Like global warming, but with fewer sad polar bears.

She was supremely enjoying the dopey look on Ashish’s face, actually. It felt incredibly good to know that, as hot and funny and nice as Ashish was, he seemed to be really into her, too. She flashed briefly back to what Kayla, Izzy, and Suki had said. How maybe she should play it safe because Ashish might only ever be physically attracted to her and unable to give her anything else. But it couldn’t be true. Looking at him now, she could plainly see that it wasn’t just her body he wanted. It was her. All of her.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him in. He automatically dipped his head toward hers, his eyes dark and serious. She closed her eyes and let her lips find his; his stubble scraped her jaw and she tasted him—his very Ashishness—with a sigh. His arms tightened around her, and she felt his muscles against her own soft curves; she felt every part of him come alive and fuse closely to her.

“Sweetie,” he whispered, pulling away from her for a moment.

She looked at him in silence. He didn’t say anything else, but she heard what he wanted to say, what he meant to say. That he was falling for her, too.




He wanted to tell her so many things. That he was falling for her, but for some reason, Celia still tugged faintly at his mind, like a siren song floating across the ocean. He wanted to tell her Celia had texted him and that they’d talked. He wanted to tell her he’d never felt as happy, as at peace, as he did when Sweetie was with him. He wanted to tell her he was changing, becoming a better person, a gentler, kinder person, all because of her.