Fun fact at the end!

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Chapter 7: I am tired of me being the only one embarrassed all the time."

There is a time in everybody's life when they are far too dazed and baffled to even move. For me, that moment is this one.

I sit in front of the round mirror in Sania's guest room, staring at my reflection. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are still wide open. I blink and shake my head, trying to rattle away the residual of shock.

Did I hear right? I did, didn't I?

He said date. Date, as in a two people together, with the potential of forming a romantic relationship.

Or as per today's generation, a date is something that usually ends with the couple sleeping together.

"Ah, well. I'd take any option." I mutter under my breath.

I have been on dates before, obviously. But none of them had affected me like this. Just thinking about tonight makes my stomach churn and clench in anxiety.

I stand up suddenly and start pacing the room, unable to quell the storm of nerves swirling within me.

What do I wear?

What do I say?

What if Sania comes back early?

What if he changes his mind?

What if he just meant a date as friends – or something professionally? Like a bodyguard date?

And if it isn't clear already. I am an overthinker. I could have a Ph.D. in it.

So, by the time it is 7 in the evening, I am even more of a wreck. I glance at the clock for what feels like the hundredth time.

He never specified the time and I was too terrified to go out there and ask him about it. So now it's 7 PM and I am all dressed for a date that I am not even sure is a real date.

"Oh my God! What is wrong with me? Is this normal? Is this something that happens with other girls too? Or is there something wrong with me?"

I smooth down the front of my blue slit dress, my fingers trembling ever so slightly. The dress features a daring slit that starts at my mid-thigh, showing off my nicely shaved legs. And the sweetheart neckline frames my collarbones. The dress fits me flawlessly, which is exactly why I specifically picked it, it makes me feel confident. But now, standing on the precipice of this dinner date, all I can feel is a gnawing uncertainty.

My hair is styled in loose waves, cascading down my shoulders, and her makeup is modest yet vibrant. I press my lips together, the light mauve lipstick spreads in response.

I look at the time again, it's hardly been 2 minutes.

How does time go slow when you want it to go fast? It's like being in a boring classroom.

"Maybe I should just pretend to be sick and skip this?"

"No, this might be my only chance of having dinner with Nimit. And he's cooking. I can't miss that."

I pace the bedroom, starting feel a little sweaty. With an annoyed grunt, I lower the AC temperature and sit on the corner of the bed so I don't smell like sweat. My feet still continue to bounce nervously.

There's a knock at the door, causing my heart to leap into my throat. I stare at the door, as if expecting it to burst into flames and burn me alive.

I take a deep breath, willing myself to relax. It's okay. It's Nimit. If it's uncomfortable, just imagine him naked!

I blink at the image, it's far too vivid and rousing. I quickly shake my head. Okay, on second thoughts, maybe don't imagine that.

I pad towards the door on unsteady legs and swing the door open.

I gasp at the sight, there he stands, as handsome and ravishing as ever. A bouquet of daisies in his hand.

He is dressed in a navy-blue suit, like always, but something feels different this time. A little less professional and a lot more personal. I cannot stop myself from ogling over him. Gosh, that man is blessed with a fabulous body!

I also don't miss the way his eyes scan me from head to toe, lingering for a while on the bare skin of my thighs. I fight back the smile but the blush appears on my cheeks.

"Wow, you look – wow. Beautiful." His tone is hoarse and gruff. He blinks and turns eyes to meet mine.

"Thank you." I mutter shyly, accepting the bouquet he is holding out. "These are for me?"

"Of course."

My fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment and I shudder at the contact. I take a whiff of the sweet fragrance and feel my chest swell. Who knew that men who give flowers on dates still exist? "Thank you. I love it."

"I know a lot about you but I don't know your favourite flower."

"That's because I don't have one." I mutter and quickly add. "But I love daisies now."

"Good." His eyes twinkle and he shifts on his feet. "I didn't think you'd be ready. I realised that I forgot to tell you the time."

I am just about to reply when something catches the attention of my nose. I scrunch it up and take a deep inhale. "Is something burning?"

Nimit's eyebrows shoot up and his head snaps towards the kitchen. "Oh shit!" he curses loudly and runs into the kitchen. I follow him with a light chuckle.

I find a place for the flowers while Nimit pulls out a tray from the oven. He pokes at the food and then lets out a relived sigh. "Nothing burnt. Phew, that would have been embarrassing."

"Sad. I am tired of me being the only one embarrassed all the time."

Nimit's lip life upwards but it's still not a full smile. "Take a seat. I'll serve. Would you like some wine?"

I sit on the dining table and shrug a shoulder. "I would love wine but we would have to drink from Sania's collection. And she is rather possessive about it."

"I'll replace it later." Nimit assures me.

I contemplate for a minute, struggling between pissing off Sania or having the perfect romantic date with Nimit. The later wins without much effort. "I'll get the wine."

I walk towards her tiny bar and scan the bottles. Too much vodka. Too much whiskey. And only two bottles of wine. "White or red?"

"Your pick."

I pick the red one, that's more romantic, right?

I take two wine glasses and set them on the table. Nimit focuses on the food, leaving me to pour the wine with trembling hands. I inhale deeply, forcing myself to relax. It is just dinner, I remind myself. Just a simple, casual dinner date.

I pour a little more into my glass, needing the liquid courage to get through this evening without fainting. "What's for dinner?" Just as I ask, the rich aroma of spices and rice floods my nose. "Is that biryani?"

"Yes. Among others."

I gasp and shake my head. "Among others? What else did you make? You know I have a low appetite." Especially today, since I am so nervous. I doubt I can eat even one bite.

"It's not much. My two specialties are biryani and lasagna." Nimit moves to uncover a smaller plate. "And for dinner we have chocolate tart."

"Wow, that's quite a mix of cuisines." I joke with a grin, swallowing nervously at the cheesy bowl of lasagna. It looks rather tempting but it only makes my stomach feel queasy.

My heart pounds in my chest as Nimit joins me on the table. I clink the wine glass, the sound echoing through the stillness of the room.

"Cheers." He whispers.

I smile and raise the glass before taking a large sip and almost emptying the glass. Nimit blinks, his glass still halfway to his lips. He shifts in his seat, staring at my flushed face. "If this is uncomfortable for you then-"

"No!" I hurriedly reply. Afraid that he might just walk away. "I am – okay, I am a little nervous. But that's it. I mean – it's us. You know. I – I didn't think you'd ask me for a date."

Nimit clears his throat and I notice a rare blush inch up his neck. It makes me grin. He scratches his neck, not meeting my eyes and in that moment, I realise that this is just as uncomfortable for him as it is for me.

He is doing something he never would have, crossing that line of professionalism and he is still swimming in uncharted area – much like me. And that gives me the confidence and eases a lot of my tension. I smile and sag back into the seat, my tense shoulders loosening up.

"So, who taught you to cook?"

Nimit blinks at the prompt change in subject. "Um, my mother. She was a chef." He too relaxes and takes a sip of the wine.

"Wow. So you can cook everything?" I am truly amazed by that. Is there anything this man cannot do?

"Most of the dishes. But if I look at videos and cook, then everything."

"Even if I look at videos and cook, I will mess up." I grumble, remembering the time I thought I could make Risotto at home. It was supposed to be easy but some how I messed it up and it turned out to be a big white ball of sticky rice.

As the dinner progresses, I get more and more relaxed around him. We talk about hobbies – he loves swimming and running. Both of which I don't do much. We talk about travelling – he has seen the world and I have barely left the city. We talk about families, he knows everything about mine and I don't know anything about his.

"So, how often do you meet your mother?"

Nimit hums in thought. "I used to meet her at least thrice a month but in the past 6 months, I have only met her four times."

"Because you have to guard some stupid politician's ugly daughter?"

"Are you fishing for a compliment?"

I chuckle, taking another sip of the wine. "Maybe."

"I have been in the war, Aisha." Nimit answers, hooded eyes strained on my face. "I have lived on a piece of bread for two days. And yet the most difficult thing I have ever had to do is keeping my hands off you."

My jaw drops and my breath is stuck in my throat. His bluntness shoots a direct current to my core and I squirm in the seat. Oh my! I blush and stare down at my fingers, unsure of how to react. Is that an invitation or just a confession? What am I supposed to do next?

Luckily, Nimit has the answer to that and it's simple. "Let's have dessert."

He clears the dinner plates and I am surprised at the amount of food I ended up eating. Despite my doubts, I ate quite a lot. Maybe I should blame the good company or the delicious food. Probably both.

"You – you cook very well. That was one of the best lasagnas I have ever had. And the biryani too." I say truthfully.

"Thanks." Nimit replies, bringing over the plate of chocolate tart. It's a small one but just one – which means sharing. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

"I am surprised you found all this stuff in her kitchen." I voice. "She barely ever cooks."

"Some of it I had delivered. But most of it was there – tucked away inside the cupboards, dusty and unused." Nimit answers back, bringing over two spoons. "This is a beautiful kitchen, it's a shame no one uses it."

I nod like I understand what he means. But I don't. My kitchen is far larger and more quipped but I have never thought of it as beautiful. Guess I am not a kitchen person at all. As long as it gets the food cooked, I am good with it.

I look at the tart adorned with a dusting of powdered sugar and cut strawberry slices perched delicately on top. The aroma of rich, dark chocolate fills the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. "This looks very tempting. It's too much. I can't possibly eat another bite."

"You can. Come on, dig in." He offers me the fork and I cut a small piece of the tart. The second I taste it, I let out a moan, perplexed at how heavenly it tastes. It is a perfect blend of sweetness and richness that seems to melt into my mouth.

"You bought this from the hotel, didn't you?" I ask, unable to believe that he can make something so delectable.

"No. I made it." Nimit insists, taking a bite himself. He hums lightly. "This is good. It's possibly my best chocolate tart ever."

I take another bite, savouring the taste. "Can you make it every day?"

"I don't think that would be possible at your home. I am not allowed to cook there."

"Oh yeah." His words are a bucket of ice over my heated body. The reality is dark. After a week, I go back to my home where I have to pretend that none of this ever happened. Nimit will be just a bodyguard who can't cook dinner for me. Or even share a late of dessert with me.

Nimit notices the dejection on my face and pats my hand lightly. "But we'll work something out. Don't worry."

"Yeah. Sure." But my reply is half-heartedly now. Neither of us say a thing until the dessert is finished and I'll never agree to it – but I ate more than half of it, despite my said lack of appetite.

"Come, let's dance." Nimit is standing up now, his hand stretched towards me. I blink at the hand and then at him. He has to be joking, right? Dance, here?

I look around the empty silent kitchen and raise my eyebrows. "You want to dance here? Now?"

"Isn't that the rule of a date? Good food, dance... and a kiss." Nimit smirks as he says the last word. "Or should we do the kiss first?"

I hiccup in surprise, wondering what happened to the man who barely crossed the professional line. Now he is so far into it, that the line is a dot to him. I lick my eyebrows nervously and accept his hand. "Dance first." I whisper shyly.

I am pulled straight into his arms and my face falls into his chest. I am panting now, heart racing, stomach in knots and my knees shaking. His strong arms wrap around me and I force myself to look up at him. His gaze is so intense it takes my breath away.

He presses a button on his mobile and suddenly music flows through the room. It's an old song – Can't take my eyes off you.

I smile at the choice of song. It's perfect. It's surreal. This has to be a dream.

He pulls me even closer, bodies aligned in a perfect rhythm, and the world around me seems to fade into a distant hum. I can't think, I can barely breathe. I am consumed by him.

His arm curls around my waist, and he starts to sway. Slowly, to the rhythm. I have never seen this side of Nimit, it's bewildering. I can't help but grin up at him and match his pace.

And I realise there's another thing Nimit is good at – dancing. But, can he move! Wow! He glides effortlessly around the table and into the living room, whirling and swinging in time to the music. His hand rests on the small of my back, his touch both comforting and electrifying. We glide past the couch, towards the tall windows and back into the kitchen.

"You are just good to be true. Can't take my eyes off of you." His sings lightly into my ears. And I can't help but giggle in sheer delight. Is this how it feels to be happy and carefree?

"You should laugh more often." Nimit says, gazing down at me, piercing right into my soul. My cheeks flush further.

"Maybe you should take me dancing more often." I respond back, trying to flirt. But it has the opposite effect. The light smile on his face disappears and his feet stagger a little. His eyes look away and he gulps hard, Adam's apple moving up and down. I quickly scram to save the situation. "I was just joking. You – you don't have to take me dancing. Obviously."

"It's not that, Aisha." His tone is now frustrated and that makes me feel worse.

I force a smile and start to move again. "It's fine. Forget I ever said it." The song soon comes to an end and we part ways. I instantly miss the heat and comfort his body was providing. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and avoid his gaze. It feels a little awkward now. "Um, well. What now? I guess we should just go-"

"I think we should finish the bottle of wine." Nimit offers and without waiting for my confirmation, he pours the reminder into the glasses. It's not much, just a few sips. I take a deep breath and accept the glass.

He moves to the couch and I follow him without a word. My mind is racing with confused thoughts. What are we doing? What the hell is this? A one-time thing?

I sit next to him and he shifts closer, a little too close. His hand is teasingly close to my bare thigh. My breath hitches and I take a large sip of the wine. "Um, Nimit, I-"

"One night."

I blink in confusion. "What?"

"One night." He repeats. "We can have one night."

I shake my head, eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I want you. And you want me. So, we can have one night. Together."

The understanding slowly sinks in and I don't know if I should be appalled or aroused. I choose appalled. I twist and move farther from him, glaring at him, letting him see the fury on my face. His shoulders stiffen and he gulps nervously.

"One night." I hiss out in sheer disgust. "You think I am worth one night? Are you doing me a favour by sleeping with me?"

"That's not what I mean." He moves to touch me but I smack his hand away. I am on the path to violence.

"You think I am dying to sleep with you, to fuck you?" My hands are trembling now, the rage so intense that even my body can't take it anymore. Without thinking, my arm moves and I empty the reminder of the red wine on his face and chest. Nimit gasps, quickly standing up, wiping his face but I don't even apologize. He doesn't deserve it.

Of all the men in my life, he was the last one I had expected to treat me like a whore. "One night. You'll give me one night? You are such a fucking prick! I can't believe I trusted you. Is this what today was? A way to get into my pants? No one is there, we are all alone. What will poor little Aisha do? Just spread her legs for a man?"

Nimit's eyes burn at my words, I can see him restraining his own anger. "Do not disrespect yourself!"

"You are the one who disrespected me!" I scream into his face. "You are the one who made me feel worthless. Like a whore. Like I don't deserve real romance. Or even a date! That I am only worth one measly night!" Tears spring to my eyes but I force them to stay at bay. I cannot weep like this in front on him, not now.

He drops his glass, letting it shatter on the floor. Neither of us seem concerned by that. He grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look into his eyes. They are wide and for the first time I see a hurricane of emotions in them. "I want you, Aisha. You have no bloody clue how fucking much! But you know we can't. I am your bodyguard! It's just wrong on so many levels. I am supposed to guard you not have such intense feelings for you!"

"What about my heart!? Who will guard my heart?" I hiss into his face.

All of sudden, there's a blinding noise of a window shattering. It takes me a few seconds to understand what is happening. But Nimit is quick to jump into action. "Fuck! We are under attack!"

He pushes me behind the couch and I slam my shoulder on the side. I hiss in pain, clutching the shoulder. I glance at Nimit who has removed his revolver and is behind the table, staring at the window, ready to shoot.

I look at the shattered window and blink a few times, my mind still reeling from the sudden change of pace. "Are we – are we being shot at?"

Nimit's face is taut, his jaw clenched and he puts on his earpiece, whispering something into it. He doesn't even look at you. "Don't worry, Ms. Mehta. We'll get you out of this."

I have to scoff at his formal stoic tone. "Oh, it's Ms. Mehta now? That's not what you were saying a minute back when you suggested that we sleep-"

His head snaps towards you and his glower is blistering. He points to his ear piece and shakes his head in warning. I exhale, gritting my teeth. Fuck this life!

"Stay down. I'll handle this." He assures and I roll my eyes. "Yeah, what else can I do anyway?"

"Try not to be too sassy." He grumbles back.

There's no bullets for a few minutes and Nimit says something into the earpiece. I rub my shoulders and scowl at him. "Maybe it was just a warning, nothing serious."

"I doubt that."

And he is right. Because in comes flying bullets, shattering the tall windows of Sania's flat and hitting the walls. "Fuck!" I scream, lowering myself further into the ground.

"Stay put!" Nimit shouts back, inching closer to the window. He yells something but I can barely hear him over the sound of glasses breaking.

Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! I am going to die! Maybe I should have taken up that one-night offer. Now, I'll die without knowing how he feels like.

Wow, Aisha. That's your dying thought?

I close my eyes and take deep breaths but it's hard to stay calm in a situation like this.

There it is, the deafening sound of gunshots echoing through the once peaceful living room. The smell of gunpowder hangs heavy in the air, mingling with my fear. I am terrified and I am not ashamed to say that I am very close to just peeing in my pants! My heart is pounding against my chest like a caged bird, desperate to escape this horrifying situation.

The living room is completely transformed into a battleground, with overturned furniture and shattered glass scattered across the marble floor. Dim light filters through the bullet-riddled curtains and the more I look at it, the more I want close my eyes and hope that this is all a dream.

I am crouched low behind an expensive couch, the cushions barely a managing to act like a shield for the chaos happening around me. I put my trembling hands to my mouth, attempting to stifle my ragged breaths and unsteady gasps. I peek cautiously over the backrest, gasping when a bullet whizzes past me, splintering the wooden frame of the door behind me.

"Get the fuck down!"

I quickly duck down, my dark black hair cascading around my face like an armour. My pulse is racing a million times faster than normal, pounding in my ears like a war drum. How did my life take such a terrorizing turn? One minute I am sipping wine with my crush and the next I am behind a couch, praying that I get to see another day.

What the hell is happening?

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Well, what a date, huh? Not sure if it was a success or a complete disaster! 

Fun fact - I actually thought of the living room shooting scene first and then based the first 10 chapter around it. Lol!

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