In a world where art and technology collide, two lives are bound by secrets, danger, and and undeniable connection.
She is the nation's most beloved artist, her work capturing the hearts of millions. Her paintings, rich with emotion and hidden mean...
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After Aditya headed off to his office, Aditi and I spent the day in a lazy, relaxed haze.
We decided to cook biryani together, and with Aditi being a chef, she took the lead, teaching me her tricks.
“Esha, I’ll send you Bhai’s number,” Aditi said as we cleaned up.
“I’ve already passed along all the details about Rishi to him, leaving out your personal life. He’s more than willing to help you out. Just text him and ask when he’s free, so you can fill in the rest.”
“Sure, I’ll reach out to him, but I need a few days to recover first. These last two weeks have really worn me out,” I replied.
“Of course, take your time. He’ll be available by then,” Aditi assured me.
After we finished cleaning up, we goofed around a bit, savoring the last moments of the day together.
Aditi had to head back to her place since she had an early flight to California the next day.
She was off to attend a week-long course with a renowned pastry chef—something she’d been dreaming about for ages. Finally, after a long wait, she got in.
Aditi and I are the clingiest of best friends, practically inseparable.
The thought of spending even a day apart is unbearable for both of us. Knowing she’d be gone for a while, she made sure to spend the entire day with me before she left.
Feeling a bit lonely after Aditi left, I found myself scrolling through our chat. She had sent me Aditya’s number, and, with a smirk, I saved him as *Aditya [PERVERT]*.
Of course, he wasn’t actually a pervert—it was just my way of teasing him. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault. He tried to brush it off, but my stupid brain was too flustered to let it go.
One thing I realized was that Aditya talks—a lot. And somehow, his chatter brought out my own talkative side.
Despite the embarrassement, I didn’t feel uncomfortable around him.
In fact, I found myself increasingly attracted to him.
There was something irresistible about the way he made coffee, just the way I liked it—neither too strong nor too milky—and that avocado toast he made nearly made me moan.
