Bridging Hearts

26. Tara? Dante?

Her

The evening sun had begun its slow descent, casting a golden hue across Dante's living room. I stretched out on the couch, feeling the warmth of the light on my skin as I watched Dante at his desk, hunched over his laptop, focused as always. There was something about his concentration, the way his eyebrows furrowed and lips curled slightly in thought, that made me feel a warmth of my own.

I glanced at my phone-bhaiya had gone out for a long drive to clear his head, something he often did when he needed space. He'd said he might stop by a friend's place afterward, so I figured I had at least a couple of hours before I needed to head home. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

Dante suddenly stood up, stretching, and caught me staring. He raised an eyebrow, smirking that signature smirk of his. "Caught you staring, Petardo," he teased, walking over to me.

"Maybe I just like what I see," I shot back, folding my arms behind my head.

He chuckled, settling down beside me on the couch, sliding his arm around my waist. "That so?" he murmured, his breath warm against my neck as he pulled me closer.

I tilted my head slightly, our foreheads gently touching. He looked into my eyes with such intensity, it sent shivers down my spine.

"What?" I asked softly, grinning.

"You know," he whispered, "you always smell like strawberries when you're near me. It's distracting."

I laughed lightly, raising an eyebrow. "Strawberries? That's the best you've got?"

"Hey," he said, his tone playful, "it's better than vanilla."

Before I could protest, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of my lips. It wasn't rushed or heated, just one of those sweet moments where time seemed to slow. My heart swelled, and for a second, I wanted to stay frozen in that kiss forever.

But of course, Dante being Dante, he didn't stop there. His hand brushed against my cheek, and in a fluid motion, he scooped me up and gently shifted me into his lap. I let out a soft yelp, completely caught off guard.

"Mr. Grump!" I giggled, trying to squirm away. But he just grinned, holding me tighter, his arms wrapped securely around my waist.

"What?" He smirked, leaning back against the couch as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "I'm comfortable."

"You're ridiculous." I shook my head, but the truth was, I loved moments like this-where it was just us, with no pretense, no hiding, just the two of us in our little bubble.

He gazed at me for a long moment, and then, out of nowhere, he reached for a strand of my hair, twirling it gently between his fingers. "You know what, Petardo?" he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

"What?"

"I think I'm falling harder for you than I thought."

My heart skipped a beat. His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. My fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of his jawline as I leaned my forehead against his. "You don't have to fall," I whispered back, "I'm already there."

He let out a breathy laugh. Just as his lips brushed against mine again, the sound of the front door opening made us both freeze.

"Tara? Dante?"

Oh no.

I turned my head slowly, my heart plummeting into my stomach. Bhaiya was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, eyebrows raised, staring straight at us. Dante's hands were still around my waist, and I was, well...on his lap. No hiding. No excuses.