LOVE SOAKED

CHAPTER 11 - Shiny new things

TRISHA
The pounding in my head felt like a drum solo gone bad. Every groan escaped my lips as I tried to claw my way out of the tangled mess of sheets and last night's bad decisions. My phone, vibrating frantically on the bedside table, finally managing to pierce the fog of my hangover. Mom's name flashed on the screen was definitely not what I needed right now.

"Hello?" I croaked, my voice a hoarse whisper.

"Trisha! Finally! Where have you been? There's a young man named Asher here asking for you. Says he's your..." Mom paused dramatically, "boyfriend?"

My heart lurched into overdrive. Boyfriend? Asher? At my parents' place? Panic clawed at my throat. I'd completely forgotten to tell the office about moving out three months ago, maybe that's why he was at my parents house instead of my apartment. When did i get a freaking boyfriend! Besides,what on earth had I spewed at Asher last night? The terrifying memory of my drunken call sent chills down my spine.

"Mom," I managed, my voice shaky, "there's been a huge misunderstanding. I... Ill be there soon." Is all I managed to get out before I grabbed my things and booked an auto.

The ten-minute drive felt uncomfortably long. Every turn of the auto brought me closer to a potential disaster zone. Visions of a furious Asher confronting my bewildered parents flashed before my eyes. Finally, pulling up outside my house, I took a deep breath and braced myself for whatever mayhem I had brought upon.

The sight that greeted me was... unexpected to say the least. There was Asher, sitting on the living room floor, sparkle, our overly enthusiastic beagle, who hates strangers, sprawled contentedly on his lap. Dad, a man of very few words, was actually... smiling? And Asher? Asher was speaking... Kannada? Idyavaga aythu?( when did this happen?)

"Kitchen alli en madta idira aunty, nam jothe banni, matadi, trisha du childhood bagge heli." (What are you doing in the kitchen aunty, please come sit with us and tell me stories about trishas childhood.) he asked, his pronunciation surprisingly good. Mom was bustling around the kitchen, the familiar aroma of her sambar filling the air.

"Ayyo bande bande, dose ready ide, dinner ge iddu hogappa." (Oh, ill be out in a second, dosa is ready , stay for dinner n go asher.) Mom replied, offering him a South Indian pancake.

Huh? Did my mom?who hates every guy I bring home, offer Asher to stay for dinner? What the fuck did I miss? What is going on? Were the only two things running in my head. before I could process anything.., Asher spotted me. A relieved smile spread across his face. I wanted to ask him what in the world was going on but..., he was on his feet, pulling me into a hug.

"Trisha! There you are. I was worried sick about you," he whispered in my ear. Still feeling a little tipsy I let out a soft moan, which he heard and that asshole smirked. I knew one thing then and there, I hated him. Hated him for how he made my body feel, hated him even more because he knew what he was doing.

Yet I couldn't help but feel the warmth of his embrace, the concern in his voice, momentarily short-circuited my brain. But before I could even process last night, Mom's voice cut through the awkwardness.

"Trisha Sharma!" she boomed, hands on her hips. "Care to explain why you never mentioned you had a boyfriend?"

Asher, seemingly unfazed by Mom's formidable presence, cleared his throat. "Actually, Aunty," he began, being respectful, "we just started dating a few days ago. I'm sure Trisha was going to tell you..."

Mom seemed partially convinced, her gaze flickering between us. Asher, ever the smooth talker, took advantage of the lull.

"Perhaps," he suggested, a charming smile playing on his lips, "we can discuss this further over dinner? I wouldn't want to impose, but Aunty's offer of dosa is too tempting to resist."

Mom wasnt going to let this go easily but after a moment, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Alright," she conceded. "But you better have a good explanation for why my daughter smells like a distillery."

My cheeks burned. So much for a smooth exit. Asher, however, just winked at me.

"Let's just say," he said, his voice low and husky,close enough that only I could hear, "we had an eventful night. One I'd love to hear more about... in private."

My heart hammered in my chest. He remembered the call, everything I'd said. Yet, here he was, still wanting to talk things out. As he opened the car door for me, a strange mix of fear and anxiety bubbled within me. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to explain the chaos of last night and navigate the uncharted territory of our newfound... relationship? Or whatever this was.