Page 17 of Glass Jawed
“I remember,” I grit my teeth. “And I shouldn’t have.”
To her, it could seem like I was angry at myself for saying something so appalling. But I just couldn’t lie without actually knowing I had said that.
She doesn’t blink. Doesn’t nod. Just accepts it in silence. That lands heavier than any thanks ever could.
She still doesn’t speak.
Just watches me with that unreadable stare, like she’s deciding if I’m lying.
Which I am.
But not entirely.
I take a slow sip of beer, then set it down with intention.
“I’m not asking for anything dramatic,” I say. “Just... maybe we start over. Have dinner sometime. Get to know each other.”
Her brow arches. “Start over?”
“Friends,” I offer, pausing for effect. “To start with, at least.”
She huffs, amused despite herself.
“Friends,” she repeats. “You’re serious?”
I shrug. “Dead serious.”
She tilts her head. “I don’t think my Program Director will be happy with me beingfriendswith you,Professor.”
Goddamn! She’s teasing me. The way the wordprofessorleft her mouth has me shifting in my seat. I dispel the unwanted thoughts and stick to my plan.
“I’ve heard it makes for a very romantic taboo setup, Ms. Talwar.”
She’s shocked for a moment before she clears her throat. “Are you flirting with me?”
I smile. “Would it make my proposition less awkward if I was?”
She laughs, soft but genuine, and sips her drink. Then, casually, “Are you bi?”
I meet her gaze. “Why, you doing a background check before saying yes?”
She deadpans. “I’ve had bad luck with confused men.”
I force a boyish grin. “Lucky for you, I’m not confused. I’m just greedy.”
That gets her. She snorts, shaking her head.
Hook. Line. Sinker.
“One dinner, Aarohi,” I say—injecting as much softness as I can muster.
“One dinner,” she repeats softly.
I pick up my phone and wiggle it between us. She rolls her eyes, but she’s already reaching for her own phone. “Text me a time and place.”
We exchange numbers and I nod slowly, watching the way her shoulders relax—just a little—as she stands.
She turns to leave, and I make one final comment to smoothen her edges while I sharpen my knife. “You look more like a woman than anyone I’ve ever met.”
