Playing With Fire

Chapter 5 - Carpet picnic

Kajol stared wide-eyed around the cardboard maze, trying to decide where to start. Amazing how she'd never noticed how much stuff she really had until she tried to get it into a quarter of the space she had before. The really scary part was the only furniture she had so far was a bed, a dresser and nightstands. How she would fit all this crap in here after she bought the rest of her furniture, she didn't know. Honestly, she didn't care. She didn't need half the stuff she had, anyway. Why not make a clean break?

Start fresh in more ways than just one?

Kajol weaved her way through the walls of brown cardboard. Finding an open space, she pulled a box from a stack and started organizing. Some stuff she would keep— anything with an emotional connection or anything she actually needed. Otherwise she'd donate it. Her heart sped up as a smile stretched across her face. This felt good, and she hadn't even done anything yet. How many times had her mother thrown away a perfectly good lamp when she got a new one? How many times had she herself sat back and watched without making a simple suggestion? Or hell, why hadn't she done it herself?

No time like the present to get started. Box after box, hour after hour, Kajol separated and organized and purged, until her hands cramped, leaving her almost unable to open them. She had eight boxes to donate. Eight! She couldn't wait to bring them to the charity centre in Delhi. Now she just had to figure out how to get them there. They wouldn't fit in her tiny Mercedes unless she made a couple of trips.

A hungry growl sounded in her stomach. Kajol walked through her much clearer living room into the kitchen. The orange glow of the window on her cell phone told her it was already seven p.m. Cooking wasn't an option. Not only did she not have any food yet, but she also didn't have many kitchen supplies, either.

"Hello?" Shahrukh's deep baritone said from behind what she thought had been her closed front door. "Kajol? Are you in here? Your door is cracked open."

Her pulse skyrocketed with just the sound of his voice. How weird. She'd never reacted to a man the way she did him. Maybe Pri was right, maybe her body wanted to cut loose a little bit. Her cheeks burned. Yeah, if she couldn't even think it, she wouldn't be indulging in a fling with her sexy neighbour. "Um, yeah, I'm here. Come on in."

"Hey." He pushed the door all the way open and stepped in. "Made me a little nervous when I saw your door open. I wasn't sure if you were gone and left it open or what."

"I've been here all day getting work done."

"You should be more careful, Kajol. Someone could have easily snuck up on you when you were moving things around in here."

Fear skittered down her spine. "Have you had trouble here?"

He laughed, running a hand through his black hair. "I didn't mean to scare you. I forgot this is your first time in the big bad world by yourself. You're safe here, but you still don't want to go around inviting trouble, either."

Great. Now she looked like she feared living by herself, which she didn't. This move had been prompted by something terrible, but it was the best decision she'd ever made.
"You didn't scare me. I just wanted to be sure."

Shahru winked at her. "Tell that to the look of terror that flashed through your eyes when I first mentioned it."

Ugh, so she was a little scared. Big deal. "Maybe you made me a little nervous, but only for like two seconds. I have no doubt I can take care of myself." Her stomach growled again. She hadn't taken the time to eat anything all day.

Leaning against the doorframe in another pair of blue jeans, a white T-shirt, Shahru looked around the room.
"You decided to forgo the furniture for boxes? You can probably make a whole living room set with all the cardboard in this room."

She smiled at his joke. He had a nice sense of humor. She liked that. Amir wouldn't know a joke of it hit him in the eye. "Everyone's a comedian nowadays. First Pri, now you. I know you can't tell, but I've actually been going through stuff all day. I just had to take a break to go grab something to eat. I'm not equipped to cook yet."

"You like pizza?"

"Yeah. Just ask my hips." Oh, there she went again. The temperature in her cheeks rose. I can't believe I just said that!

"From where I'm standing, there's nothing wrong with your hips."

Kajol felt a swoon coming on. She gripped the counter, her blushing no doubt intensified by his words. "Thanks."

He snickered at her. The man sure did seem to laugh at her a lot. "I ordered a pizza. It came just a few minutes ago. That's how I noticed your door open. I can go grab it so you don't have to go anywhere."

"Are you sure? I don't have a table or anything for us to eat on."

He gave her another one of his sexy smiles, his arms crossed over his chest. "Don't tell me you've never had a carpet picnic. Those are the best kind."

Nope, no carpet picnics in her past. She wouldn't tell him that, though. The last thing she wanted to do was give him another reason to laugh at her. "Of course I've eaten on the floor. I just wanted to be sure it wouldn't bother you."

Apparently she'd still given him a reason to smile. "Whatever you say. Hold on. I'll be right back."

Shahrukh walked out, closing the door behind him. At least she could now form complete sentences around him. She still had a hard time keeping her eyes off him. Even though she'd started to get more used to being around him, the man was still drop-dead gorgeous - charming. Uncomfortably so in the beginning, but he'd somehow erased that discomfort. Well, except when he laughed at her at least.

A knock sounded at the door a few moments later. This time she walked over and looked through the peephole, not because she was scared, but because she was smart. Of course Shahru stood on the other side of the door. Kajol pulled it open. He carried a pizza box, a two-liter bottle of coke, paper cups and plates. "You thought of everything."
"I'm a bachelor. What can I say? I know how to carpet picnic."

The man has such a sexy smile. Dangerous, mischievous, spellbinding.