Dating Dr. Dil (If Shakespeare was an Auntie #1)(56)
“Are you fucking serious?”
Kareena nodded in quick jerky moves.
Prem didn’t waste another moment. He turned the wheel, cut off a honking semi, and sped toward his apartment.
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Indians Abroad News Dear Readers, If your matches have taken a liking to each other, it’s important to keep them apart. Yes, this may seem counterintuitive to building a strong relationship, but oftentimes it’s best if couples do not have an opportunity to spend quality time together alone.
Accidents do happen.
Mrs. W. S. Gupta Columnist Avon, NJ
Chapter Seventeen
Kareena
“I’m not really a bar person,” Kareena said. “Even before I sort of stopped dating to focus on my career.”
“Me neither,” Prem said. “I’m usually working.”
There was a pause that kick-started Kareena’s heartbeat. “So . . . the real version of Netflix and chill?”
His smile was beautiful. “You mean Jeopardy! and jalebis? Yes. Absolutely. That is my speed, too. And Rina? I may be a desi boy, but I do really well with jalebis.”
Kareena looked over at Prem’s profile, then back to her interlocked fingers in her lap. She was a healthy, independent (sort of) woman at thirty. She had every right to have sex whenever she wanted, and however she wanted.
But this was Prem Verma. This was Dr. Dil, the man who vehemently denied that love could sustain a lifelong partnership. He was her polar opposite. She had to wonder if sleeping with him was the smartest idea she’d ever had, or the dumbest.
As they turned down narrow side streets, Kareena knew Prem was right on the money, that bastard. She had been avoiding dating not just because of her busy schedule, but also because failing at intimacy truly scared her. Intimacy was supposed to be the easy part, but for some reason it was always the hardest for her. The older she got, the harder it became to open up to someone else.
Until Prem.
Kareena’s heartbeat quickened. Normally, if she was about to take her clothes off, or do anything sexy with a man, she would think of a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t go through with it, right before she took the plunge. But for the first time in . . . well, forever, she couldn’t think of a single reason why not.
Other than the fear of getting attached to someone who couldn’t love her back.
No, that wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t.
Prem pulled into a parking lot underneath a high-rise. She watched as his palms slid over the soft dimpled steering wheel.
“One day, after my clinic is set up, I plan on moving to the suburbs.”
“Oh yeah? You strike me as a city guy.”
Prem rolled his eyes before sliding into a numbered spot and shutting off the car. “I grew up in a neighborhood with yards and picket fences in California. I want the same when I’m done with my community center. Come on.”
They got out of the car and walked to a bank of elevators across from the lot. He motioned for her to enter the elevator first, then scanned a tiny key fob against a sensor.
“I just realized something,” Kareena said, praying that the nerves would stay at bay. “This is the first time I’m going to see your place. Did you ever think a month ago that this is where we’d be?”
“A month ago, I was thinking of ways to hide your body,” he said. “But I like this result a lot better.”
The way he looked at her had her blushing. And then, the elevator doors opened and Prem motioned for her to step out before he followed. “Last door at the end of the hall,” he said. They walked the short distance, a foot between them, to a black door with brass fixtures. He keyed in.
“Welcome to my home,” he said, and the door swung open. She slipped past him, brushing against his chest and trying to focus on his apartment instead of his ridiculous body.
When he flipped on the lights, Kareena’s jaw dropped. Exposed ductwork in the ceiling. A brick wall to the left. Modern appliances in the kitchen. Floor-to-ceiling windows with a tiny balcony. He had a large living space, with what looked like a soft leather sectional facing a massive flat-screen.
Oh my god.
“This is what I want to do with the house,” she blurted out. “I always thought the open kitchen and living space we had would be perfect for this. All we have to do is take down some more walls, freshen the paint, and put in modern furniture.” She could see it crystal clear, and it surprised her that she and Prem shared the same vision for comfort.
Prem toed off his shoes near a discreetly positioned closet, and she quickly followed suit. “Between my parents helping me out, and scholarships to keep student loans down, I was able to afford this place by the skin of my teeth,” he said behind her as she crossed to the windows. “I want to move into a house, but it makes sense to be here right now until my community center is established.”
“Don’t apologize for what you have,” Kareena replied. She thought about her car, the house, both symbols of so much more than money. “You should never be ashamed of the sacrifices our parents made for us, and the work you’ve done on top of that.”
“I don’t know why, but I always feel the need to apologize. My father used to tell me how if he didn’t come over to the States for medical school, then we would’ve never left Delhi. He has that whole ‘fifty dollars in his pocket’ story that I always think about when I spend my cash on big expenses. Are your stories the same as mine?”