Kiara Mehta never expected her final year at university to turn into a whirlwind of temptation and desire. When the dangerously charming Agastya Agarwal steps in as an intern professor, he becomes the center of every whispered conversation and stole...
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The next morning, something had shifted.
Not in an earth shattering, dramatic way. But in a soft, almost imperceptible way. Like the hush right before sunrise.
Kiara could feel it. The memory of last night still lingered on her lips, and every time she blinked, she saw Agastya’s dark gaze from when he whispered you’re mine.
Now, as she stepped into the breakfast area with her friends, her eyes instinctively scanned the crowd, and there he was. Sitting at a table near the window, coffee mug in hand, sunlight dancing on his hair.
He looked annoyingly good for someone who ruined her sleep with thoughts she had no business entertaining.
As if sensing her stare, Agastya looked up.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
But that second felt like an entire conversation.
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips tugging up into a knowing smirk. Kiara’s heart did a somersault. She quickly looked away and sat beside Aarohi, who unfortunately noticed everything.
"Oh, you two are so obvious now," she whispered, nudging Kiara. "What happened last night?"
"Nothing."
Aarohi arched a brow. "Your lips say nothing, but your eyes scream ‘he kissed me and I liked it.’"
Kiara glared. "Lower your voice."
Across the room, Agastya was still watching her.
🦢
Later that day
After breakfast, the students were led toward a lakeside area for the day’s activity: kayaking and small group games by the water.
Kiara was struggling to fasten the life jacket when a voice murmured behind her.
"Need help?"
Her fingers froze.
Of course, it was him.
Agastya stepped close, reaching around her to tighten the straps gently. His touch wasn’t overtly flirty, but it was there gentle, deliberate, warm. Close enough to make her breath hitch.
"You’re doing it wrong," he muttered near her ear, tone calm.
Kiara didn’t move. "You’re doing it on purpose."
"What?"
"Standing so close."
A soft chuckle. "I’m just helping, sweetheart."
He fastened the last strap, his knuckles brushing her ribs.
