Accidentally Engaged(33)
He laughed, but he still looked embarrassed. “No, it’s not like that. And I’m not into fishnets or stilettos or anything. I just like bare feet. They are soft and vulnerable but strong enough to carry your weight all day. They are private and hidden most of the time, but then women adorn them with colorful nails and sometimes jewelry. They’re sensitive and ticklish…and I’m going to shut up now.” He lifted his eyebrows and squeezed his lips shut.
Well. When he put it that way, Reena could see the appeal of the humble foot. She slowly leaned down and removed the thin cotton sock on her right foot. Her toes inside were red, still angry after being squeezed in Marley’s boots for so long. She placed her foot on his lap.
“As long as we stay G-rated, this can be a symbiotic exchange for us. I get a foot rub, while you get to admire my lovely arches.”
He laughed as he picked up her foot in his hands. “I can handle that.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised that he was rather spectacular at foot rubs. Those hands, which had been so firm yet gentle on her scalp, would of course be amazing on her feet. She hummed with appreciation as his thumbs kneaded her arch. “You’re good at that.”
He chuckled but continued rubbing.
“One thing I don’t get,” she said. “Why’d you think you told me about this foot thing? You didn’t.”
“I did tell you. The second time we met. You were sitting outside my door barefoot with a bag of bread and I said that you managed to hit all my fantasies. I like feet, and I like bread.”
She giggled. “Well, I bake bread. And I have feet.” Match made in heaven. Except…no. “You also accused me of hating you that night.”
He laughed as those talented fingers moved on to gently squeezing and pulling on her toes. Ahhh…it felt amazing. “Considering you have gifted me with this remarkable foot,” he said, “I’m pretty sure you don’t hate me anymore. We’re friends, right?”
“Yes. Even though you gave me lice. But you also brought my drunk ass home safely, even if you demanded I make you bhajias in the middle of the night. So, friends.” Jesus, they’d been through a lot in the two weeks they’d lived across from each other.
“True.” He laughed. “That reminds me, I’m sure you’re fine, but you have to do the final lice treatment Sunday. I’ll comb out your hair again.”
“Let’s do it Monday. We have to do the contest application Sunday, and I’ll be home late from my friend’s place.”
He focused silently for a while, rubbing all the tension out of her sore foot. “It’s all pretty funny,” he said. “This is not what I expected when I moved to Toronto.”
She giggled. “Yes, yes, I know I’m not the good-girl wife you wanted me to be. No need to keep reminding me.”
He pinched the arch of her foot lightly, making her giggle. “I’m starting to think the good-girl wife concept may be overrated.”
She smiled. “I still have no intention of marrying you.”
He chuckled as he lifted her other foot onto his lap, peeled off her sock, and gently started massaging. God, he was too good at this. “I think my favorite thing about you is that you keep telling me you won’t marry me.”
She laughed softly as that boneless calm she’d last felt when he had massaged her scalp overcame her. She closed her eyes, sinking into the couch. He managed to release the tension she knew she had, and about a truckload more tension waiting in the wings. “Mmm…” she groaned. “I like your hands best.”
“So, you agree that I’m better than your other parent-approved husband prospects?”
She chuckled, nodding. “Seems so. You don’t have a comb-over or a secret after-dinner paan habit, and you know how to make chai.” She sunk lower until almost reclined on the sofa, both her feet on Nadim’s lap. Her third parental setup had been a man addicted to paan—a type of Indian chew which sometimes had psychedelic effects. The man’s teeth were permanently stained red. Nasty. “Then again, I don’t know you that well. If I wanted to know more I could ask around. The Ismaili community is small, wouldn’t take much.”
He stilled, hands clutching the arch of her foot. She opened her eyes and looked at him. His expression looked strange. Oddly frightened and vulnerable. Maybe he did have a secret addiction to legal Indian narcotics. “Don’t,” he said.
“What?”
“Don’t ask around about me.”
She smiled warmly, hoping to wipe that look of insecurity off his face. “Don’t worry, I was just kidding. I’m not much of a gossip.”
He looked back down at her feet, resuming the massage. “It’s just…I came here to start a new life. I didn’t expect to make a good friend here. I don’t want to let our pasts color this friendship, okay? That goes both ways.”
This time Reena stilled. Of course, she hadn’t expected or planned on this friendship when she met him. Back then she was thinking he would be eye candy in a conveniently close location. And once she found out about her parents’ intentions, she tried valiantly to avoid him. But now, they were friends. And she couldn’t deny he had a way of calming her like few could. She needed his friendship to cope with life right now.
But friendships were based on honesty and open communication. And she hid things from him, too. The loss of her job for one, but also her crippling self-doubt. And her past. What would he think if he knew about that scary time when she failed so miserably at life that she was drunk more than sober? Hell, she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to know her romantic history.