The cold water splashed against my skin, a blessed relief after enduring the sweltering, unforgiving heat of India's killer weather. I let myself sink deeper into the tub, the chill washing over me, easing the tension in my muscles. Fifteen minutes in and I hadn't even thought about getting out. The water was too damn irresistible, like a forbidden pleasure I wasn't ready to give up.
Aunt Sheila's voice echoed in my head, still ringing with the sharp scolding she gave that girl—what was her name? Kriti? Yeah, that was it. Poor thing got kicked out so fast it was like Aunt Sheila had been waiting for an excuse to unleash hell. But it wasn't just Kriti who got the full force of Aunt Sheila's wrath. Her pathetic excuse of a son got it even worse. And honestly? He deserved every second of it.
"School project, my ass," I muttered to myself, splashing the water as if it could wash away the memory of his open shirt and the way his eyes had flashed with something I couldn't quite place. Aunt Sheila saw through his bullshit immediately. "You and schoolwork? Impossible!" she'd scoffed. I should have jumped in to defend him—after all, he used to be my best friend—but it's hard to do that when he's glaring at me like I'm the enemy.
He didn't even seem to recognize me, which stung more than I'd like to admit. But I wanted to believe he remembered me, that he was just pissed off. That's all. Just a little anger simmering beneath the surface. But damn it, he looked so different now. Not just in the physical sense—though that was hard to ignore—but in his whole demeanor. He wasn't that chubby, goofy kid anymore. He'd grown up, filled out, turned into something that made my stomach tighten with a mix of confusion and—fuck, I'll admit it—attraction.
I cringed at the thought of what he might have been doing with Kriti. I mean, his shirt was wide open when he answered the door. What the hell was I supposed to think? And as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't stop my mind from wandering to the idea of him as some bad boy at school, breaking hearts and getting into trouble. It was wrong to think of him as hot, but the guy had definitely been working out. A lot. And it showed.
Finally, I decided I'd had enough of my indulgent little bath session. I climbed out of the tub, water cascading off my body as I reached for my favorite towel—SpongeBob SquarePants, because why the fuck not? Judge me all you want; I don't care. It's my towel, and it's soft as hell.
Wrapping it around myself, I opened the bathroom door and slipped out, shutting it quietly behind me. The cool air of the room made my skin prickle as I padded over to the closet that was now mine. I rifled through the clothes, grabbing a random pair of shorts and a top. Nothing special. Just something to throw on. But as I was about to drop the towel, a voice whispered in my ear, sending my heart into overdrive.
"SpongeBob? Seriously?"
I jumped about ten feet in the air, a scream dying in my throat as I spun around, clutching the towel tighter. There he was, standing right fucking behind me, shirtless, with that infuriating smirk on his face.
"Why are you always shirtless?" I blurted out, trying to sound pissed off, but my voice betrayed me, coming out more like a squeak.
He just stared at me, his gaze unapologetically sliding down my body, taking his sweet time. I could feel his eyes tracing every inch of my bare skin, and damn it if it didn't make my heart race. I wanted to snap at him, tell him to fuck off, but the words stuck in my throat.
"My eyes are up here, you pervert," I finally managed to snap, heat rising to my cheeks. I hated the way my body was reacting to his presence, the way my pulse quickened, and how I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.
His eyes flicked up to meet mine, and the smirk that followed made my blood boil. "Don't flatter yourself," he drawled, his tone colder than ice. "You've got a flat ass."
And with that, he turned around and stalked off, leaving me standing there, half-naked and utterly humiliated.
Why the fuck was he even here? I could still feel the sting of his words, the way they cut through me like a knife. But more than that, I hated how his presence lingered, how it made my skin burn in a way that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
He'd changed, alright. But so had I. And if he thought he could just waltz back into my life and make me feel small, he had another thing coming.
I stormed out of the room, my feet pounding against the floor, fueled by anger and something else I couldn't quite name. Sourabh was going to learn that I wasn't the same girl who used to follow him around, wide-eyed and innocent. I wasn't going to let him get under my skin—not without a fight.
But as I reached the bottom of the stairs and caught sight of his retreating figure, my resolve faltered. There was something about the way he moved, the way his muscles rippled under his skin, that made my breath catch in my throat.
Fuck. This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to be drawn to him like this. But there was no denying it—Sourabh was different now, and so was I. The only question was, what the hell were we going to do about it?
I leaned against the banister, watching as he disappeared down the hallway, my mind racing. This was going to be a long summer. And if I wasn't careful, I was going to get burned.
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RomanceIn all my life, I'd never felt anything like this. Lust didn't even begin to cover it. It was a primal, almost savage need that scared the shit out of me. You weren't supposed to have those kinds of feelings for your best friend, but there I was, dr...
