Page 64 of Not In Love

Kash stood just inside the entrance with Mona, Chaaru, and Tia, the soft golden light catching on her hair and gilding the edges of her pink pantsuit like a halo.

The fitted cut of her jacket hugged her body with sharp, precise lines. The gold tube top beneath it shimmered every time she shifted her weight. A small, high-waisted gold belt cinched the jacket close, and delicate sandals flashed at her feet. It was impossible to look away from the stunning figure she made.

Around him, the noise of the hall swelled—clink of glasses, a bass-heavy Bollywood beat thudding from the speakers, the laughter of cousins spilling over from the bar. Spanish and Hindi mingling and separating, like a river and its tributaries.

And yet, to him, the world and its sounds and its sights narrowed down to Kash.

Fairy lights crisscrossed the ceiling, throwing playful reflections over her cheekbones and the strong line of her jaw. She laughed at something Mona said, her head tipping back just slightly.

Diego’s heart clenched so hard it hurt.

She was stunningly beautiful. She had always been.

But tonight, something was different.

He watched, helpless at this point, as she and her friends made their way deeper into the crowd. Saw her mother Neena intercept her halfway across the hall in a flash of green and gold sari and tightly pinned hair.

For a second, Diego tensed, instinctively bracing for Kash’s guarded smile. How she bowed those proud shoulders just a little, as if she needed to protect herself. He was all the way across the hall and was glad to see Mona and Char stick close to her.

Neena leaned in and said something, her hand resting briefly on Kash’s arm. Kash stiffened, the old reflex kicking in.

Diego saw her almost pull back, mask herself. And then she didn’t.

A soft, tentative smile touched her lips at whatever her mother said before patting Kash’s hand. His own relief was like laying down a boulder.

God, how he adored this woman, how he would put the world at her feet if only she asked him to.

As if she could hear his thoughts, or maybe sense his desperation, across the shifting sea of guests, Kash’s eyes found his.

A single, electric second passed between them. Not a smile. Not a wave.

Just a stillness, charged and private, in the middle of the noise.

Diego couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

He wanted to go to her, wanted to close the distance, pull her into him, hold her tight, make plans for their future together.

A sharp tug on his sleeve broke the spell. “Come on!”

One of the women at his side laughed. “You can’t come to a Sangeet and not dance. It's basically a crime.”

Someone else, a cousin or maybe one of Muriel’s friends, was waving him toward the dance floor where a group was gathering, the first beats of a popular Bollywood song pulsing under the fairy lights.

With a sigh, Diego let himself be pulled along.

Kash was watching him—he could feel it like a brand on his skin—but she hadn’t moved.

He stepped into the surge of dancers, his body moving automatically to the rhythm, his heart hammering for a different reason altogether.

Just wait, he told himself. Trust this connection between you two.

She would come to him when she was ready. And when she did, he would never let go again.

* * *

The banquet hallexploded in color and light the moment Kash stepped through the open doors with Mona, Chaaru, and Tia at her side.

For a second, she simply breathed it in—the heady mix of spinning lehenga skirts, bursts of laughter, the thick pulse of bass reverberating under her heels.

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