THE DESTRUCTION

chapter 3

I'm Agastya ," he says as he holds his hand out to shake mine.

Oh God, now I have to be polite. I shake his hand. "Hi, Agastya. I'm saanvi."

His eyes dance with mischief. "Hello, saanvi."

His eyes are big, bright blue, and dreamy, the kind I could get lost in. But why is he looking at me like that?

The plane begins to travel slowly down the runway, and I look between the earphones and armrest. Where do these plug in? They're high tech, the kind that overconfident YouTubers use. They don't even have a cord. I look around. Well, this is stupid. How do I plug them in?

"They're Bluetooth," agastya interrupts me.

"Oh," I mutter, feeling stupid. Of course they are. "Right."

"You haven't flown first class before?" he asks.

"No. I got an upgrade. Some weirdo threw my bag across the airport when he was drunk. I think the guy at the desk felt sorry for me." I give him a lopsided smile.

He rolls his lips as if amused and sips his champagne; his eyes linger on my face as if he has something on his mind.

"What?" I ask.

"Perhaps the guy at the desk thought you were gorgeous and upgraded you to try to impress you."

"I hadn't thought of that." I sip my champagne as I try to hide my smile. That's an odd thing to say. "Is that what you would do?" I ask. "If you were at the desk, would you upgrade women to impress them?"

"Absolutely."

I smirk.

"Impressing a woman you're attracted to is crucial," he continues.

I stare at him as I try to get my brain to keep up with the conversation. Why does that statement sound flirty? "And do tell . . . how would you impress a woman you're attracted to?" I ask, fascinated.

His eyes hold mine. "Offer her a window seat."

The air crackles between us, and I bite my lip to hide my goofy smile and little blush.

"You're trying to impress me?" I ask.

He gives me a slow, sexy smile. "How am I doing?"

Who am I kidding? I am desperate. I haven't seen a dick in over a year.

I tap on bridgerton. I'll swap one fantasy for another. I've always dreamed of having corey mylcreest
as my personal assistant. The movie begins, and I smile at the screen. I love this movie. No matter how many times I watch it, I always feel love while watching it. lady Danbury is my favorite.

"You're watching a romance?" he asks.

"A rom-com," I reply. For God's sake, this guy is nosy.

He smirks as if he's better than me.

"More champagne?" the flight attendant asks.

Blue Eyes looks over at me. "Here's your chance to order for us."

I stare at him flatly; all right, he's beginning to piss me off now. "We'll have two, please."

"What do you like about rom-coms?" he asks as he keeps his eyes on the screen in front of him.

"Men who don't talk during movies," I whisper into my champagne glass.

He smiles broadly to himself.

"What do you like about . . ." I pause because I don't even know what Cotton Fire at Bombay is about. "Political films?" I ask. "The fact that they're boring as all hell?"

"I just like true stories, regardless of what they are."

"So do I," I reply. "That's why I like romance. Love is true."

He chuckles into his glass as if amused.

I glance over at him. "What does that mean?"

"Rom-coms are as far from reality as you can get. I bet you're the type who reads trashy romance novels too."

I stare at him flatly. I think I hate this man. "I am, actually . . . and if you must know, I'm watching Magic Mike XXL after this so I can watch gorgeous men take their clothes off." I sip my champagne in annoyance. "And I'll smile through the whole damn thing, regardless of your snooty judgment."

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Yours ,
Razaaali