Accidentally Engaged(45)
Somehow she ended up facing him. Legs draped over his, his hand still on her hip and his lips still feasting on her neck. Her chin. Her cheek.
And finally, her lips. The kiss wasn’t the frantic meeting with writhing and gripping she was expecting, but a slow, sensual awakening that curled Reena’s toes. It was immersive. The strong, confident body under her. The scruff of his jaw on her live-wire skin. The heady scent of his amber beer and…him. She pressed closer. He kissed her like he ate her bread—savoring each taste like he’d been gifted a rare delicacy. She could kiss this man forever, making her life bearable as she let everything else blur away. It was frightening how right this felt.
Because it was wrong.
“Stop,” she said, loudly. Okay, that was maybe a little too loud. Startled, he disentangled himself, and she shifted six inches away.
“Stop?” he asked.
“Yeah. Sorry.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him.
“Don’t apologize. I should apologize. Sorry.” He blinked a few times, seeming as off-kilter as she was.
They stared at each other. Heart racing, she tried to put on a casual face. His lips were pursed slightly for a second, before he smiled wide enough for that damn dimple to emerge. God, that perfect little indent was going to be the death of her—she felt sure of it.
“Appears we both have this Canadian apology thing down pat,” he said.
“Yeah.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “Give me a sec, I have to collect my thoughts.”
Thoughts. Thoughts. What were they, anyway? Not surprise, she’d seen this coming. They had been carefully inching over that line of appropriate behavior for a while now. Reena got that “just friends” didn’t give innuendo-laced foot rubs. Or agree to go on a national cooking contest as a couple. Or spend almost every evening together for the last week. Denial wasn’t just a river in Africa. After two weeks of insisting she wouldn’t marry the man, she’d let this current between them take her closer to something even more dangerous. She’d developed feelings for him. Real ones, not just the physical lust expected for a man who looked like…him.
She inhaled sharply before speaking. “I’m just trying to make sense of you and this weird relationship. We’re getting closer…as friends, I mean…” She exhaled. “You confided in me, and I confided in you, and we’re here for each other, but…”
“I’m sorry, Reena. Really. Don’t freak out. I won’t cross the line again. You can trust me.”
Could she trust him? She squeezed her lips together. With her body, yes. She did trust him. Even with her feet. But with her heart? Could she trust him to be honest about his true feelings?
“I don’t…” she started. “I mean, if we’d done that yesterday, I’d be…receptive…I mean, I wouldn’t have stopped. But after what you just told me…”
He tensed slightly. Any other person may not notice it, but she could read this man like she could read the bubbles on the surface of her starter. She saw when it was sour.
Nadim came to Toronto to marry the girl his father had chosen to make up for some big bad mistake he made. And despite the number of times Reena told him she would not marry him, he came on to her tonight. He kissed her, with a clear intention that he wanted to do much more. And she almost let him.
Was it really her he wanted? Or to placate his father? Or to please her father, the man he respected so much?
Reena bit her lip. “Do you really want me? I’ve told you I wouldn’t marry you, but it’s what both our fathers want. And now…I just told you about my job. I’m upset. Vulnerable. It’s a good time to soften me, right? What’s riding on our marriage anyway?”
“No! Reena, I—”
She put her hand up to stop him. “I have no way of knowing what you think of me. Honestly. No matter what you say or do, we’re tangled in our parents’ web, and our own actions can’t be separated from them. I don’t know what you promised your father, or what he will do if things don’t go the way he wants. And since I can’t know how you actually feel about me, all I can look at is my own track record.”
Reena stood. “I’ve been laid off three times.” She walked over to the kitchen and put her empty mug in the sink, carefully avoiding Nadim’s gaze. “I’ve had twelve boyfriends in the last fifteen years,” she continued. “Four were relationships that lasted over a year. Not one man said he loved me. The relationships didn’t end with a bang, they just kind of fizzled when the convenient sex and home-cooked meals lost their novelty. I’m the middle kid. My older brother, Khizar, is perfect. Kind, brilliant, successful. My little sister is brash and high-maintenance. I’m just there. Unmemorable. Weird hobbies and boring career. Easygoing, but not particularly good at anything.” She stood near her bedroom door. “I don’t know what deal our fathers made, but your father was definitely sold a lame horse.” She smiled sadly. “And despite that depressing pity party, I do have self-respect. Those twelve guys may not have been in it for the long haul, but at least they were into me for me. Not to impress their father or mine. They chose me. Good night, Nadim. The door locks automatically.”
She walked into her bedroom and closed the door. Had she been harsh there? Yeah, probably. She hadn’t even given the man a chance to defend himself. She knew what he’d say—that he cared for her. That she was a good friend when he needed it. That she could trust him.