Incense and Sensibility (The Rajes #3) - Sonali Dev Page 0,76
called in a loud whisper.
“India?” he loud-whispered back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why do people keep asking me that?”
She pressed a hand to her heart, then made a circling motion with it. “Do you want to come inside?”
Do you want me to? “I can’t go home.”
She looked like he’d punched her in the heart. Some more spinning of that hand followed, as though he didn’t know that he’d have to walk around the restaurant to get to her door. It wasn’t like he could fly straight up to her, no matter how badly he wanted to.
“Come on. I’m opening the door.” With that, she was gone from sight and his feet moved, because he had to have her back in his sight again.
Chapter Sixteen
India’s hand shook when she opened the door. Her hands never shook. She was India Dashwood. She was unshakable. Her emotions were unshakable.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m standing at your door.”
She waited. Hoping her face said the Aand . . . ? she was thinking.
“I was craving the overnight oats. Can’t stop thinking about them. Or about the sweet pus nectar.” His smile was tired. So tired.
Her lips pursed, but she moved aside and let him in. He looked terrible. Haunted. Every trace of luster gone from his golden aura. Those quicksilver eyes sunken behind shadows, that usually clean-shaven jaw starting to show stubble. Okay, that part wasn’t exactly unattractive. His usually meticulous hair was tousled by his own fingers, his shirtsleeves rolled up, but not in their usual let’s-get-to-work way, but in an I-feel-trapped-inside-my-clothes way. Those unfair forearms on full display.
Had it been just a few hours since she’d seen him?
“Yash?” she said, her tone weary with questions.
“India?” God, his eyes. Why was he letting her see so much?
“Why did you say you can’t go home?”
“I’ve been living at my parents’ house since the shooting.”
“That makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.” The Rajes were the most tightly knit family India knew, and no family should let someone who’d been shot out of their sight. “You shouldn’t be alone.” Would he be alone, though? Where was his girlfriend in all this? Why was he here right now instead of with her?
Why was India letting him in?
Because she helped people. That’s why.
“I just can’t go back there,” he said, making her heart squeeze. She needed to get him on his feet and out of here. Fast.
Turning away, she walked to her office. He followed at a distance. Careful not to get close, but not careful enough to hide how hard it was to do.
“Sit. Are you really hungry?”
He shook his head. “Ashna just fed me to within an inch of my life. But I didn’t lie. I am craving the oats.”
That made her laugh, but his eyes were so tortured she sobered again. The man was a master at sticking to truth on a technicality, at Yudishtiring it. How badly he wanted to not lie, that was the part of him she couldn’t look away from.
“Why don’t you want to go to your parents’ house?” She dropped down in the chair across from the couch.
His pause was long, his struggle to find words painful. “The last time I lived there was after my accident.” His hand went to his hair, then pulled away. “Most of my sophomore and junior years in high school I was fighting to get out of a wheelchair. My senior year was spent relearning how to walk. By the time I felt like myself again, I moved to UCLA.” Unlike the rest of his family, and her, he hadn’t gone to Berkeley. Now she wondered if it was because he’d needed the distance. “I’ve only been back for overnight stays every now and again. But . . .”
“Being sick and having everyone fuss over you brings back memories.”
He looked at her like she’d found an exposed nerve and plucked it. He didn’t respond.
“What about your apartment?”
“I don’t . . .”
“Never mind. You don’t want to be alone.”
Suddenly he smiled.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re actually answering questions for me,” he said, still smiling, and she realized that she was. She was giving him answers he should be coming up with for himself, but he’d scared her with those haunted eyes.
“What is it you need from me, Yash?” she said, somewhat harshly.
I need you, his eyes said, and if he said those words she was going to scream. “I need your help.”
Springing off the chair, she went to her bonsais. One of them was out of alignment with the rest and she straightened it.