My So-Called Bollywood Life(44)

Winnie rolled her eyes. “It’s hard to explain what true romance is like.”

Dev laughed so hard he almost rolled off the couch. “You think this dialogue and this singing-and-dancing stuff is true romance?”

“What, you think you can do better than the great Shah Rukh Khan?” She snorted. “I doubt that.”

“You know what? Challenge accepted,” he said, facing her. He gripped her hands. “I’m excellent at wooing.”

“Yeah, okay. This I gotta see.”

    “Winnie.”

“Yes?” She giggled. Dev squeezed her hands in retaliation. “I’m not feeling very wooed, Dev.”

“Stop it. Okay.” Dev pushed the coffee table away from them with a foot and got down on one knee in front of her. “Winnie, when I first saw you, this giant lens that I’ve had on my future came into focus. It was like everything was blurry before, and then when you arrived, it was crystal clear.”

“Oh. Oh, Dev.”

“And I’m not going to lie, it hurt when you left for someone else. But I’m glad you’re back and—and, Winnie…I don’t understand why you love the singing and dancing and Bollywood drama, and I never thought I’d direct choreography, but Winnie Mehta, I would dance for you.”

The only sound that Winnie could hear was the pounding of her heart. She wanted to say something, anything. But sometimes words weren’t enough. She laid her palms against the cool skin of his cheeks, leaned forward, and touched her lips to his.

Dev’s reaction was instantaneous. He pressed against her mouth until she was lying on the couch and he was stretched over her. Then there was his mouth and hers, his chest against hers, and their rushing heartbeats synced.

Holy baby Shah Rukh Khan.

His knee slipped between her legs, and his mouth slanted against hers. Her thoughts scattered even as she combed her fingers into his hair. She leaned in for another kiss, another touch, to feel him close to her.

    Winnie’s phone shrilled. She scrambled from under Dev, breathing heavily as she pulled her cell phone out of her bag. The first thought she had was that her mother was calling and that she knew exactly what Winnie was up to.

“Really?” Dev said. “Perfect timing.”

The thrill died when Raj’s name flashed on the screen, and she groaned. After declining the call, she shoved her phone in her bag, but it started buzzing again.

“Who is it?” Dev asked.

“No one important.” She flipped off the sound, but her phone vibrated with a text. She glared at the screen as she read the message.


RAJ: Sorry if you’re busy. At the school. Problem with festival location. They’re renovating the theater we always use.



She hesitated. Raj should be able to deal with it himself. She looked down at Dev, who raised an eyebrow at her. Her phone buzzed a second time.


RAJ: PLEAZZEEE. I NEED YOU. Come down to school. Committee is here. It’s an emergency!!



“What’s going on?”

“It’s a stupid festival emergency,” Winnie said.

Dev groaned. “Seriously? Of course that numbnut would call now. Does he know you’re with me?”

“I didn’t tell him. It’s okay. I’ll stay. He can deal on his own.”

She patted his leg, and he shifted to give her space. She was about to kiss him again when her phone buzzed for a third time.

“That’s it—I’m turning it off.”

“Winnie,” Dev said. “Listen, if it’s an emergency, your mind is going to be on that instead of on me. Why don’t we, I don’t know, have a rain check or something?”

“But we’re only halfway through the movie!”

With a laugh Dev said, “We probably wouldn’t watch the rest of it anyway.”

Winnie blushed. She should never have checked her phone.

“Dev, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said.

Winnie tried to pat her curls into some semblance of order, and then gave up and braided her hair over one shoulder.

“I hope this emergency is worth it,” Dev muttered from his position on the couch.

“Me too.” Winnie gave him a quick kiss, grabbed her bag, and started up the stairs.

“Hey!” he shouted after her.

    “Yeah?”

“You going to the fund-raiser dance with me?”

“I don’t know—are you asking?”

“Yeah,” he said, sitting up. His smile slipped away. “Are we dating?”

“Keep watching those movies,” she said, ignoring his question and the knot in her stomach. “See you in school.”

She practically raced out the door and into her car. When she stopped at a red light on Route 1, she pressed her forehead to the steering wheel. No matter how hard she tried to get away from her horoscope, it kept tapping her on the shoulder to remind her that any man other than Raj wasn’t for her. The only problem was that she didn’t want Raj. She wanted Dev.

On the rest of the ride to the school, she racked her brain for a film comparison that could solve her problem. But she kept drawing a blank, because Dev wasn’t part of a Bollywood story to her.