The Best Friend of the Bride (COMPLETED)

Chapter Fourteen

Mesmerised by the flowers and chocolate in front of her, Samaira read the note, and re-read it carefully, slowly, once... twice.... thrice.... as many times as it took her to comprehend it's meaning. And when she finally did understand the gist of the ink on the note, she looked up to where Aryan had been, to thank him for his sweet gesture. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Just seconds ago, he had left her on the bed, with the pale luminescence of the spotlight, highlighting his gift, and now she felt the darkness seep in as his presence was no longer felt by her. Scowling, she squinted her eyes, to try to make out his silhouette in the almost dark room, when even the tiny source of light gave way and now the room was engulfed in nothingness. Panicking, she was about to open her mouth to shout at him to turn on the lights, when the feel of his soft lips on hers quickly silenced her.

Losing her senses as waves of pleasure rode through her body with their simple contact; she was baffled by the way her body reacted to his. They finally broke the kiss when breathing became difficult, and that's when she felt his hand run through her hair, and fix something in place behind her right earlobe.

Reluctantly bringing back her hands that had somehow carved themselves round his back during the course of their breathtaking kiss, she felt one of the roses in her hair. Smiling up at his obscure figure, she looked straight into his eyes, hers having gotten accustomed to the dim and mumbled a thanks nervously and hoped that it was audible above the steadfast beating of her heart.

"You're welcome Chocolate, I hope you liked the roses," he said.

"Yes, very much. They're perfect," she replied.

"It's not them that are perfect, it's you," he countered. And before she could even open her mouth in bewilderment, he added, "I'm glad you liked them. They're just a part of your gift."

"There's more?" she asked. "What more do I need?"

"Answers, Samaira. I believe I owe you some answers," he stated simply.

Hearing him say Samaira for the second time that day sent shivers down her spine. It felt so good, so irresistible. So many people called her by her name, or Sam, but it had never felt like this before. The sentiments that pulsed through her veins when he called out her name gave rise to Goosebumps across her flesh.

She didn't have any questions at this point. She didn't want any answers. All she wanted was to be with him, then and there, the way they were seated; happiness and comfort cruising through every fibre in her being due to their proximity.

"Oh that. The most important one was answered. I know you didn't kiss that girl. There's nothing you owe me that I'm not obligated to return, I guess," she said, mouth agape with numbness.

"All the same, you'll get them tonight. How about I give you eleven questions? One each for the red roses, and the last one we can devour together?" he asked with a mischievous glint in his grey orbs.

"If you insist, though I rather that we get to the part where we relish the chocolate rose right about now," she replied, affected by each word he uttered. He was making her insane with his breath so close to her face. Having his lips within kissing distance and still unable to kiss him, is not something that was easy.

"Not so soon, Princess. Honestly, I know you're bursting with questions. Ask away," he said, getting up and fumbling with the switchboard before turning the lights on to a romantic setting. Coming back to the bed, he sat himself on the other side of hers, keeping as much distance between them as was possible without falling of the bed.

"Very well, then. If you'd rather I ask you something, my first question is this - tell me why you're sitting so far?" she asked with a pout.

Chuckling, he replied, "So that we both have clear heads while we finish this interrogation. I don't want to be distracted with you in my arms."

Giving him such a puppy dog look that would melt even the deepest of icebergs, as if daring him to just forget what he stated at get as close to her as humanly possible, she said, "Ok, we'll just get this over with then. Second question - what's your favourite colour?"

"Red," he replied without hesitation. "The way you carry it off should be illegal. It incites feelings in me that I didn't know existed. You're beautiful, do you know that?" he finished.

Turning scarlet, Samaira replied, "Somebody did mention it a few days ago. Anyway, he's here, somewhere on this plane, and I'm sure he remembers it. So third question - what's your favourite pastime? Apart from making money?"

"I didn't know the pilot said that you're beautiful. As soon as we land he's getting fired!Only I can get to call you that!!" Aryan replied with mock fury. And then looking into her brown eyes, he adds, "I like to draw. I sketch anything and everything that catches my fancy. But don't really have the time to do that anymore. There's too much work to do nowadays."

"So maybe one day I'll get to see your paintings?" Samaira asked hopefully.

"Yes, maybe. No one's seen them yet. Not even that annoying sister of mine who's trying to listen to our conversation with her ear against our door. She doesn't know this door is soundproof," he added smirking.

"How do you know Anaya's doing that?" asked Samaira.

"Oh, it's just a childhood habit that she shared with my brother. They used to wait outside my door, trying to listen to something, anything, I was too quiet for their liking," he said with a far of look in his eyes.

"You have a brother too?" she asked shocked.

"Had. Now your next question?" he cut her off.

"Ummm... what's your favourite painting subject?" she asked trying to lighten his mood by bringing up something he liked. Surely, he didn't want to talk about the brother he had lost, she could see whatever had happened was hurting him, and the safest way was to talk about something he liked.

"Nature. Mountains, waves, sand, trees, stuff like that. There's a raw beauty to them. Just like yours. It's difficult to explain," Aryan replied, still a little shaken from the brief encounter of talking about his brother.

"Ok. What's your favourite food?" enquired Samaira. Not knowing how to distract him, she asked that first question that got into her head. Wasn't the way to a man's heart through his stomach? Maybe the question would deflect his thoughts.

"Noodles. Chocolate, are you even going to ask me the questions you really want to ask? Or are you just going to waste the next six with meaningless ones too?" He added with a sigh.

"Hey, I like getting to know you, these questions aren't meaningless," she replied. "They give me a better understanding of you. Isn't that necessary when we're dating," she countered.

"Samaira," he said slowly, pausing so as to get her complete attention on what he was going to say next, "You're right. Even so, I'd like you to ask me what you've been holding out on asking since this morning. I know you were hurt today, and I know I've hurt you before. I know somewhere you don't trust me, or the concept of being close to someone. I want to know how I can clear all your doubts about us. I can help you understand me better, get to know me better, understand us better, just ask me the right questions," pleaded Aryan, "You know I'll answer anything you ask."

"I know you'll answer anything I ask you to, truthfully. Isn't that enough? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with my uncertain questions," said Samaira sighing.

"Ok, let's start with the easy one then. Leave the next six questions to me. I know you've been dying to know how I got your number back in India, haven't you?" asked Aryan.
Yes. That she had. Who was she kidding? She wanted those answers, even though she didn't want to ask the questions.

"Just ask me what you really want to know Chocolate. I'm all yours tonight," he said sincerely, "Or do you want me to tell you what I think you want to know?"

"I think I'd like that, Drink Boy," Samaira said closing the distance between them and leaning in for a kiss.

She just couldn't keep to herself around him!