“Yes.”
“Oh.” His expression shifted, distant now as if he were slipping back into whatever dream he’d been having.
“Who is she?” The question left my mouth before I could stop it.
“Who?”
“In your dream.”
“Dream girl,” he said lightly, getting off the bed and putting on his T-shirt.
“But I heard you have dream girls, not a dream girl,” I teased.
He laughed softly. “Yeah, but I dream of one girl at a time. I’m not into threesomes.”
“Who knows… ” I crossed my arms over my chest as I was feeling another wave of jealousy. “I’m leaving now.”
“Are you feeling okay now?” he asked.
He stepped closer, too close enough for me to feel his warmth, to smell his skin. His gaze searched my eyes, slow and careful, like he was trying to find something I had been hiding for months.
“You weren’t well yesterday.”
“I’m okay,” I mumbled, lowering my eyes.
“That’s good.” He lifted his hand and gently caressed my hair. The gesture was soft, and protective.
My chest tightened unexpectedly. My own father had never done this. But Avni’s father treated me like his own, so I knew, at least a little, what that kind of affection felt like.
“Want to join me for breakfast?” Saurav asked.
“Breakfast?” I shook my head. “I don’t eat without bathing and taking blessings from Lord Shiv. First, I need to take a bath and then I go to the nearest Shiv temple.”
“So you believe in God?” he asked, tilting his head, clearly amused.
“I don’t just believe,” I said seriously. “I have a full-time contract with Him. Morning attendance is compulsory.”
He blinked, holding back a smile. “Wow. Even my gym trainer isn’t that strict.”
“God doesn’t accept excuses like ‘five more minutes,’” I replied. “And neither does my stomach.”
He chuckled, folding his arms over his chest. He has this beautiful body. God, save me from imagining myself wrapped around him like a snake. It was dangerous how easily my mind betrayed me. How quickly one laugh, one casual movement, could send my thoughts spiraling somewhere they had no rightto go. I looked away, annoyed at myself, at this weakness that bloomed in my chest every time he was near.
“So… temple first, breakfast later?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Even if I make you the best coffee of your life?” he tempted, flashing that unfairly charming smile.
I hesitated.
He straightened, sensing victory. “Imported beans, expensive machines and foam like clouds. Very persuasive coffee.”
I swallowed, almost surrendering then shook my head firmly. “God comes before coffee. God comes before everything.”
“Respect,” he said solemnly. “What if I come with you?”
I narrowed my eyes. “To the temple?”