Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(55)

Kareena let out a frustrated growl that had his back going ramrod straight. “You don’t get to do that, Prem. You don’t get to send me flirty texts, take me out on dates, then tell me that our almost hookups were real to you,” she said, her voice raising with each word. “Not when I know that your plan is to lie about us getting married then break things off once you get your community center. That still leaves me at square one. No, square zero. Because our very public fight means we’ll have a very public breakup. So many Indian men are infected with misogyny, casteism, colorism, and internalized colonialism. And the ones left may not want the baggage!”

“Then focus on finding a stronger guy who can carry the weight,” he murmured.

“What, and that’s easy? Prem, damn it, I’m trying here. Being with you can ruin me.”

The very thought of hurting her was appalling. That was the last thing Prem wanted to do. Rina deserved to be happy, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that there was no way she’d find it by going on a wild goose chase searching for love. And if she was being honest with herself, then she’d admit she knew that, too.

Prem turned at the next traffic light and tapped the horn when a delivery truck pulled out of a parking spot in front of him. “Rina, if you really want to find your true love, your mythical happily ever after, then why did you wait so damn long for it? Why is it all of a sudden so important to you?”

“Because I wanted to achieve my career goals first, and—”

“Bullshit,” he said, jerking the Audi around a double-parked car and easing into traffic. “I’m calling bullshit. If someone you really connected with had walked up to you in law school, would you have turned him away?”

“No, of course not, but—”

“And I bet if you had a connection with any of the people that you’ve dated since law school, you would’ve straight up eloped.”

Rina crossed her hands over her chest. “What are you getting at, Dr. Dil?”

“I’m trying to tell you that maybe love doesn’t exist! Maybe what you’re really looking for is connection. And you have that with me. You have a connection with me.”

“I don’t believe that,” she said, vehemently shaking her head. “I don’t believe that for a minute. I know better than you what I need, Prem.”

Prem let out a humorless laugh, and before he could stop himself, words kept tumbling out of his mouth. “Or maybe you don’t know what you need at all?”

She gasped like he’d just scandalized her in the worst way. “I know exactly what I need, Dr. Dil. I also know that connection does not make a relationship work, fake or otherwise.”

“Fine. If you’re so convinced that you and I don’t have a connection, then come home with me.”

“What?”

“Come home with me,” he repeated. Lust, frustration, and desperation fisted in his gut. He felt like he was fighting for his life here. “If we don’t have a connection, we’ll figure it out really quick. I can prove to you that we can be together, and love doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

Kareena shifted in her seat so she could face him. “Why?” she blurted out.

“Why come home with me? Other than this . . . this thing between us?”

He came to a stop at the traffic light in front of the Holland Tunnel that separated Hoboken from Jersey City.

“I’m attracted to you,” he finally said, shifting in his seat so he could look her in the eye. “And despite our history, the times we’ve laughed together have been amazing. We’ll both regret never knowing what it’s like to be with each other. If that’s not what you want, then I’ll live with it. But if you want me, too, I think we should— You know what? Fuck this.”

Prem threw the car in park, then slipped her glasses off her face and tossed them on his dashboard.

“My glasses!”

“Eyes here, Rina.”

He leaned across the console and pressed his mouth against hers.

His craving for her was only getting worse as his heartbeat altered rhythm. Her hands came up to cup his face, and her fingertips singed his skin as they scraped through his stubble.

Kareena tasted like coming home. She was sweet, and wet, and fit him like the other half of his puzzle. Their tongues collided, and Prem was desperate to touch skin.

He cursed when the sound of a horn honking interrupted them. He shifted his car in gear and inched forward with traffic. It took him a few more seconds until he’d merged into the right lane and positioned himself for a left turn.

“Well?” he asked shifting so that his knees bracketed the steering wheel, and he could grip the back of her headrest. They were both still breathing heavy. “Are you willing to find out whether I’m right or you are?”

She plucked at the fabric of her pants, and despite the dark, Prem could see that she didn’t have anything on her pants. “Prem,” she said softly. “This is only going to make things more complicated.”

“I’m always going to wonder. Aren’t you?”

When Kareena didn’t respond, he flipped on his signal so he could exit onto the highway.

“No,” she said, gripping his arm. “L-let’s go to your place. One night. Just one night to get it out of our system. Just so I can prove to you that . . . that I’m right.”