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He walked out of the kitchen the moment Billo Rani jumped into the house from the window, a huge smile spreading on his lips as he picked her up in his arms.
Does he know that I'm about to have a stroke in the kitchen?
Does he know that he's the only man who has touched me the way he did?
Does he have to give all the attention to the attention hoe of a cat?
The orange thing purred in his arms as he moved a hand over her back, closing her eyes in contentment.
His eyes met mine when he turned and walked back into the kitchen. I didn't realise when the whisk dropped from my hand and when I started moving back until I bumped into the kitchen island.
A playful smile played on his lips as he stepped towards me, the fluff ball lying comfortably in his arms, the beats of my heart rushed quicker than they ever had that I feared I missed a beat or two when he was just a step away from me.
The cat can pounce on me at any moment.
Sahaj took my hand in his, keeping it over the furry body of the cat. Can he feel my hand shivering?
"See? She's a sweetheart."
Is he talking to me or the cat?
His phone rang before he could say or do anything else, the cat jumped out of his arms the moment she heard the blaring noise of the ringtone.
He took the phone out of his pocket, his hand resting beside me, on the kitchen island.
I think he knows what he is doing.
And I think he is doing it intentionally.
He should kiss me again, I think. I need to test something this time.
My eyes fell on the screen, Anamika's name flashing on the caller ID. A wave of mixed emotions hit me, curiosity and an unexpected hint of jealousy. Why does this woman have to interrupt every good thing in my life? Why is she still calling him?
He answered the call, his voice calm and formal, "Yes?"
The sound of his voice made me hyper-aware of our closeness. I could feel the warmth of his body, and the slight tension in his arm as he held the phone to his ear. My pulse quickened, the flutter in my chest making it hard to focus on anything but the space between us.
I tried to busy myself by picking up the whisk, but my hands felt clumsy, and I ended up knocking over a measuring cup instead.
Sahaj glanced at me, brushing the short strand of hair back from my face, I felt like an open book, my emotions clearly written across my face.
He turned his attention back to the call, I caught snippets of the conversation, though my mind was too occupied with the way his voice lowered slightly before he pushed himself away from me and walked out of the kitchen.
