A Beginner's Guide to the American West ✓

chapter forty-five

f o r t y - f i v e

*

I wake up to warm sunlight pouring through the window, dappled light draped over my woozy body because we forgot to close the curtains last night. It meant the room was never really dark, glowing all night from the city's illuminations, but that wasn't high on my list of concerns when Arjun was keeping me busy.

Now I'm glad we forgot to draw the drapes because it's glorious to wake up like a sleepy cat on a summer's morning, stretched out in the warmth of the rays on my naked body. It's such a relief to be able to sleep naked at last, barely covered by the thin top sheet in the August city heat, with Arjun sprawled out next to me with the sheet across his lower back.

His back is to me with his arms around his pillow, the way we fell asleep last night after we switched roles and someone in the room next door banged on the wall.

He's out cold, still snuffling to himself when I touch the warm skin of his shoulder blade, when I roll closer and press my nose to his neck and drape my arm over him. I guess I really wore him out last night.

I could stay like this for a hell of a lot longer but when nature calls, I have to roll away and drag myself to the bathroom. It's not even nine yet, still relatively early on our last full day in the city: we only have one more night in San Francisco, and then it's time to fly home. That's all I can think about as I stand under the showerhead and let the water run down my back, washing last night off me with a pathetic sliver of hotel soap.

All good things come to an end. I'm well aware of that.

I wrap a towel around my waist and use a hand towel to dry my hair as I peer in a clear spot of the fogged-up mirror after brushing my teeth, teasing at the skin above my upper lip where I have a couple of pathetic hairs beginning to grow. I definitely don't take after my dad in that department: he has full stubble in the photos of him and me as a baby, when he was seventeen, and I can't even grow a patchy moustache.

Not that I want one. There's a cheap razor amongst the hotel toiletries and it takes all of a few seconds to get rid of my body's weak attempt at facial hair, and a few more to stop the bleeding where the crap blade nicked my skin.

When I return to the bedroom, Arjun's still fast asleep, but he's shifted onto his front and one arm is stretched across my empty side of the bed. The contrast of the stark sheets against his dark skin highlights his muscles, one knee pulled up to show off tight quads and toned calves.

I shed my towel and sit down on the edge of the bed as carefully as I can so as not to wake him, until I'm lying down again – until my phone chirps on the side table and I grab it before the sound of a text message can undo my caution.

I expect to see a text from my sister or one of my parents, but it's Lily's name on my screen, a Facebook message asking for my attention.

LILY GUPTA: advance warning: you may be in the doghouse when you get back. im having coffee with tala and flo, and we were talking about you & your trip & arjun, and it seems you updated your relationship status on FB before you told your little sister. she was v upset that i knew you guys are official before she did

I roll my eyes as I send a reply.

ME: please tell flo she's a drama queen, she already knows we're together. i called her 2 days ago!

LILY GUPTA: apparently she knew you were "a thing" but you never mentioned the boyfriend word. idk about you but im a bit scared of angry flo. more like jilted actually. your mum's trying to pacify her with hot chocolate