1
It all started with a single glance. On a Wednesday morning, Imlie was waiting for the elevator to reach her floor. As the elevator came, the doors opened with a ding and out came the most handsome man she had the blessing of laying her eyes on. Their eyes met briefly while he passed her and the piercing gaze of the man shifted from her eyes to her lips making butterflies errupt inside her stomach. Imlie couldn't help but stare at his sturdy looking back, broad shoulders, sexy ass until the door to his apartment closed. It took her few seconds into the ride to realise that the man she just had the opportunity to meet was none other than Mr Aryan Singh Rathore, the newest addition to the small list of Indian Millionaires. Her neighbour is an effing millionaire, What in the world.
Imlie came out of her Building complex and entered her friend's car which was waiting for her outside. Komal, her college friend and colleague, saw her and snickered, throwing her the tissue packet and told her to clean her lips. That's when she realised that her lips were smudged with ketchup.
"Mr. Sexy Neighbour saw me like this. That's why he was looking at my lips. How embarassing! What a way to make a first impression Imlie."
She spent the whole day cringing at the memory.
2
"Pour all the ingredients over the flour and knead, as if it was that simple", Imlie grumbled as she struggled with the sticky dough. It was Imlie's birthday and hence she took a leave from office that Wednesday to celebrate it by resting at home. Only an hour ago, a brilliant idea struck her mind and she decided to bake some cookies for herself, for the very first time in her life. Hence the struggle. But Imlie is a fighter if nothing else and nobody can beat her when it come to cooking. That's what she likes to tell herself. That's why after struggling with the batter for next forty five minutes, she finally decided to order some cookies from the bakery. That doesn't mean she failed, No, she is still an inevitable leader of cooking, just baking is not her forte it seems. Nobody is perfect afterall.
As Imlie munched on her instant popcorn, enjoying the current running tv drama, consisting of two sisters fighting for the same man, unaware that the man has been seeing their third sister behind their back, the doorbell rang. Imlie opened the door and came face to face with her Mr. Sexy Neighbour. Wait! What was his name again?
Arnav.. Arvind.. oh yeah Aryan.
"Yes", Imlie asked, making sure to lower her voice to sound a little sexy. It's not everyday that a legit millionaire rings your bell.
"I believe this is yours." He said and his voice. Why? Why God? Was it not enough that he is the epitome of sexyness, why does he have to have the baritone on top of it?
"What?"
"This parcel. I think it's yours."
His eyes lingered on her face.
"Oh yeah, it's mine."
"I was expecting a delivery of my own so I took it from the lobby by mistake. I am sorry."
"No, don't be. Infact Thank you for bringing it for me."
"No problem. Bye."
"Bye, have a nice day."
Imlie shut the door and placed her hand on her chest. Stop beating so fast you traitor!
She couldn't help but feel shy. She just talked to her hot neighbour. He also checked her out. She saw him. Wait! He checked her out. He saw her like this.
HE SAW HER LIKE THIS!!
She was wearing her most used pajama. Her hair was in a high messy bun. Both of her cheek were smeared with flour dust and some of it was on her hair too. He saw her like this.
