Stuck With Me - Melissa Brown Page 0,73
a rap and hip-hop guy.”
“Most of the time, yeah. But I love me some Harry Nilsson.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Oh man, he was this wacky guy in the sixties and seventies. He inspired the Beatles, I guess. In fact, you’ve probably heard a couple of his songs and don’t even realize it. I’ll send you a playlist. You’d probably love his version of “Over the Rainbow,” actually…since you love that supposed classic.” He used air quotes when he said the word classic, enunciating each syllable in an eye-rolling ridiculous way. But it was kinda cute.
“Oh my God, what is your problem with that movie?”
“I’m just playin’,” he said with a shrug.
“I’d love to hear his version of the song.”
“Oh, have you seen that Tom Hanks You’ve Got Mail movie?”
“Yeah.”
“It plays at the end when they meet in the park.”
“Oh yes! I love that one—it’s so romantic. I had no idea who sang it.”
“My dad watches that movie all the time, just to get to the song. I keep trying to get him on iTunes. No dice.”
“I’d love to meet your dad. He sounds like a really interesting guy,” I said, genuinely intrigued by Dev’s family. “Would they be upset that you’re dating someone who’s…”
“What? Not Indian?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Nah, not at all. Trupti was my first serious relationship with an Indian girl. My parents just want me to be happy.”
“That’s nice.”
“I could ask you the same thing. Will your parents be okay with me being Indian and not Latino?”
“Yeah, they don’t care either. My mom’s been trying to marry me off since I turned twenty-one.” I closed eyes tight, mortified. “Not that we’re getting married or anything. Geez, sorry. I had to make it awkward.”
Dev laughed, reaching across the table to take my hand in his. “Lyra, I’m crazy about you. It’s not awkward at all.”
“Thanks.”
“So, now that we know our parents aren’t racist…” he deadpanned, a devilish look on his face. “I guess it’s safe for us to continue with our date.”
“To our parents,” I said, raising my glass. We clinked glasses just as three servers arrived, carrying trays with all of our food. Dev and I made as much space as we could on the table and even then, everything barely fit. You couldn’t even see the peach-colored tablecloth below.
“Wow,” I said, looking at everything in awe. Steam rose from each of the plates, and the smells were captivating.
“Okay, try this first,” he said, placing a little fried pastry pocket on my plate. “And I guarantee you’ll want another one the second you finish.”
“Samosa?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Aren’t you worried you might be overhyping this?”
“Nope.” He shook his head, his expression confident. “No way.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile, raising the samosa to my lips, blowing on it.
“Pull it apart a little to let out the steam. I don’t want you to burn your mouth.”
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
“Sure,” he said, his eyes locked on me as I opened my mouth.
“You can eat, too, you know.”
“Not until you have your first bite.”
“You’re crazy.” I shook my head before biting into the slightly crunchy pastry. The first thing to hit my senses was the rich, savory taste of potatoes and spice. “Mmmmm.”
“Right?”
“Oh my God,” I said after chewing the rest of the bite. I was hooked. It had just the right amount of spice to offset the comforting taste of cheese and potatoes. “We need to order more.”
“That’s what I’m saying! Okay, now you need to try tikka masala.”
“I’ve heard of this,” I said as he scooped a small serving onto my plate. Large chunks of chicken swam in a rich sauce that almost resembled pumpkin soup. I took a bite and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. “Oh…my….God. It’s sweet!”
“Yep.”
“Holy crap, how have I never had this before?”
“No idea, but I have a feeling you’ll be eating it often now,” Dev said, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “And I’ll be happy to bring you here as often as you like.”
“Give me more. I want to try all the things!”
“Music to my ears,” Dev said, scooping another chicken dish onto each of our plates. With each bite, I was enjoying the spices, the flavors and the rich, creamy sauces. My taste buds were in heaven, and I was reveling in how Dev was treating me. As soon as I finished a dish, he served me again…and again…and again. Making sure to order drink refills and place naan triangles on my plate in case I