Page 22 of Carnal Games
“Nathan Singhania.”
“No middle name?”
“No.”
“Indian parents aren’t that big on middle name, are they?”
“I suppose not,” replies Nathan after thinking it over. He angles his body toward mine to make it easier to converse. “I don’t have one, but my father does. What about you?”
“Iris Mannan. No middle name.”
“Did you want one?”
“I sometimes wish I had one,” I admit with a shrug. “It sounds cool. My name is already short, there’s no room for a nickname. If I had a middle name, it could be it.”
“Crazy Iris has a great ring to it,” he teases with a throaty chuckle.
“It only makes sense for you to say since you know the backstory.”
“True.”
I cross my legs, sitting sideways so we’re facing each other, and ask, “What else should I know as your date? Do you have another sibling besides Kian?”
“Just the two of us. Does this mean you’ve accepted my fake date proposal?”
“No, I’m still thinking.” I smirk before continuing with the twenty questions. “How long have we been dating?”
“We could say a month. Is that too long? Or short to be bringing you to meet my parents?”
His answer makes me pause because he appears genuinely baffled. “What’s the longest you’ve dated, Nathan?”
I catch his nervous gesture of scratching the back of his head.
“I’ve never really dated anybody,” he sheepishly confesses.
“OMG! Really? Ever? Not even one person?”
“Oh, come on! Nobody finds true love in high school,” he retorts at my wrinkled face. “It never lasts. I was simply saving my future self and her from inevitable heartbreak. College is the same.”
“Something tells me you left broken hearts along the way anyways.” Raising one eyebrow, I joke, “Just how bad of a playboy, were you?”
He rolls his eyes before admitting, “As cliché as it sounds, I made my intentions clear from the start that I wasn’t looking for a relationship. They knew the score. I left before they could make the mistake of becoming attached.”
“Then how will anyone believe we’ve been dating for over a month with your reputation? Especially your best friend,” I point out smartly. “Won’t he know right away that we’re acting?”
“I think you underestimated me when I said he’d be distracted tonight. My dumb best friend pretends he wants nothing to do with his psycho fiancée but the second she’s close, the rest of the world fades for him. He’s whipped for her. I’ll be surprised if we can get him to say more than hi to us.”
Is it weird that his friend sounds like a male version of me?
It doesn’t make me dumb, though. I’m just going after who I want.
It’s the opposite of dumb; it’s empowering.
A light tug on my hair causes me to blink and focus.
“Hi,” whispers Nathan with a knowing smile.
“Hi,” I whisper back, cheeks flaming a crimson red. “Sorry. God! You must think I’m a weirdo.”
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