Page 149 of Snap Shot

“There's no Diwali tree,” I continued. “No gifts under it, either.”

His hand crossed the tense flesh of my stomach, goosebumps returning in the gentle touch's wake.

“There are gifts, usually new traditional clothes. Or cash for good behavior.”

Pillowy lips traced the column of my neck up to my ear as I screwed the chandrabali earring tight. “And what's considered good behavior?”

I laughed at his suggestive tone. “It's, like, an understood rule. If you bow down and touch someone's feet in reverence and wish them a happy new year, they place a hand on your head and give you an envelope of cash. A blessing for your respect.”

“Interesting.” Landon rounded my hips until he faced me, rough hands sliding down the silk silhouette of my legs while lowering to his knees. Long fingers reached under the bottom hem, their light touch crossing the straps of my heels. Eyes roiling with adoration, he revealed a carefree smile, one dimple pushing into his cheek. “Well, Indi? Aren't you going to bless me?”

“You bow to your elders.” My hand cupped his jaw. “I'm younger than you.”

He circled my wrist to drag it onto the top of his head, closing his eyes while my fingers stretched through silken threads of his brown hair. Landon sighed from his nose before they reopened with renewed mischief. “Bless me anyway.”

“Didi!” Esha whisper-screams at me, halting the mindless pouring of the rich pink powder into a single flower petal's design.

“Sorry.” I cough. “I spaced out.”

Nik clicks her tongue as she drops a series of dots along the border, then flattens their peaks with her fingertip. “If we lose the competition this year, I blame you.”

“Don't be too mad, girls.” Gabe palms my sisters’ shoulders while matching Bea’s knowing grin through the iron spindles lining the stairs. “Your sister's mind is occupied.”

A fistful of rangoli powder lifts above my head in threat to my obnoxious friends. I should release a chalky cloud upon their smug little heads. But they're not wrong. Landon has burrowed his way into my thoughts, whether he's around or not. The man is infuriatingly sweet, despicably hot, and turns my brain into squashed bananas in his presence.

Oh, my God. I'm in love with him.

My face heats at the thought. I go upright. “I need to use the washroom.”

“Indi.” Gabe looks repentant, but she has no reason to be. She was telling the truth.

Unlike me. The lie is starting to hurt.

“Come on, we’re messing around.”

“I know.” I play it off.“I'll be back.”

Hands clasping the edge of the sink, I count while taking deep breaths. Up to ten, down to ten. The initial panic settles. This is exactly what wasn't supposed to happen. I study my reflection in the gaudy, gold, ornate mirror. Hating him was easy. Adoring him from afar was easier. I spent years denying it, bludgeoning the idea to death because it would never be real. But it's real and scarier to admit.

I've loved Landon Radek for fifteen years.

Like a dormant seed, the love was never nurtured, neglected long before anything sprouted from it. Yet the roots held strong, too stubborn to give up.

Three knocks rap on at the door. “Indira?” My mom's voice isn't as hushed as she thinks it is. “Are you okay? Is it your stomach?”

“No, Mom.” Not embarrassing at all. “I'm using the—”

“Because remember last Diwali when you ate too much khandvi? You were on the toilet for so many—”

“Mom! Can you stop?” Unbelievable.“I'll be out in a second.”

“Okay, sorry. I didn't want you to miss Aarti. We'll wait for you.”

It's not my gut I should be worried about anyhow. My heart's the one shitting itself.

Our hectic schedules put a few more days before Landon and I see each other again, giving me enough time to retract my heart from my sleeve back into the locked chamber of my chest.

—————

---