Page 19

Amelia

I was wiping the excess lipstick when I left the bathroom. I had needed to reapply it after eating those damn mini quiches.

But God , they were worth it.

I wanted to rip into Sebastian some more for pulling the shit he did but I knew he was drunk. Not that it excused anything.

Worst part was, I couldn’t find Kabir after. I hoped he hadn’t seen the kiss.

I hoped that if he did—he still remembered my words from the speech.

Just as I turned the corner towards the courtyard, I suddenly found myself pressed hard against the cool wall, Kabir’s imposing figure blocking any escape. The heavy scent of alcohol on his breath mixed with the unmistakable sharpness of his anger.

“Kabir, let me go,” I demanded calmly. He was clearly too inebriated to sense me struggle against his hold.

“You fucking love torturing me. Don’t you, Lia?” His voice cracked, betraying a hint of vulnerability beneath the fury.

“Kabir… calm down.” I shifted, trying desperately to get out of his hold. I did need to talk to him, but not like this.

His nostrils flared. “I saw the kiss. I saw him use you. And that’s a freshly reapplied lipstick, isn’t it?”

“You’re drunk, Kabir. We can—”

He laughed, not a hint of humor in his voice. “Tell me. Did you sneak off to make out with him some more? Or are you using him?”

I gasped, a shiver making its way up my spine.

“Tell me,” he growled. “Did you imagine it was me who was fucking you that night instead of that boyfriend of yours?”

His lips almost touched mine when he spoke next. His voice was gentle, coaxing. “Did you imagine it was my cock you choked on every fucking night, Lia?”

I stared at him, wide eyed. He had never talked to me like that before. I didn’t think I ever heard the term cock leave his mouth.

Should I tell him I never had Sebastian’s… oh lord!

I swallowed against the sudden urge to kiss him just then. “Did you just say that to me?”

This wasn’t what I’d imagined my prelude leading to.

Kabir’s eyes narrowed, rage ebbing away. “I did.”

I shoved him slightly. “You can’t just fucking ask me that!”

“Why? It was a rhetorical question,” he smirked, anger fully forgotten. “Wait… was the answer yes?”

Fully shoving him away from me, I rounded him to escape him. My elbow was suddenly wrapped in his hand, and he turned me to face his stupid, gorgeous, punchable, handsome… shut it!

“Was it?” He asked, his voice soft with awe and hope. He swayed and shuffled on his feet a bit, unable to keep upright.

I stared at him, trying to find a way out of this ridiculous situation. So, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“What is cock called in Hindi?”

He blinked. Then blinked again. When his eyes grew distant, I knew— knew —he was actually distracted and trying to translate the damn word.

“I actually don’t know,” he mumbled, seeming adorably defeated.

I nodded. “Think about it. We’ll continue this tomorrow, okay? We do need to talk, remember.”

“Yeah…” he sighed. His eyes glazed, he stepped away from me, letting me take my exit.

I had taken a few steps before his voice had me looking at him over my shoulder.

“Lia…” he blinked rapidly. “Was the answer yes?”

I swallowed hard before forming a response.

This was it, wasn’t it?

Even if he was too drunk to remember, I knew I had to just get the word out. So, I did.

“Yes.”

Kabir

Yes .

She’d said yes!

“How’d it go last night, Kabz?”

I jumped as Logan’s voice cut through the remnants of my hangover just as I was piling carbs onto my plate. Much-needed carbs. The kind that made you forget you’d made an ass of yourself the night before.

“Kabz?” I blinked at him, unimpressed.

He just grinned, smug as hell. “Zarek’s ‘Zar.’ Dylan’s ‘Dyl.’ So obviously… Kabir is ‘Kabz.’”

I cleared my throat, dragging my feet toward the next tray of food. “You remember that, huh?”

He nudged me with his elbow to keep me moving through the buffet line. “Of course I do. I’ve been brainstorming names for you all night.”

“Okay, no.” I spun to face him, holding up a finger. “Don’t ever call me that again. It sounds like a disease. And we both know my celibate ass isn’t catching crabs anytime soon.”

My eyes widened at a sudden realization. Wasn’t constipation called Kabz in Hindi?

Fuck. I didn’t want to tell him that it was a disease twice over.

Yeah… no.

I hoped Logan never fucking searched the damn term. He snorted mid-sip of his coffee, nearly choking on it.

I kept going. “If you have to give me a nickname—”

“Absolutely I do.”

“—then use what my parents call me. Kabira. It’s a desi thing. Affectionate spin on my name. Take it or leave it.”

Before I could grab a glass for juice, Logan swiped it from my hand and filled it for me. “I’ll take it,” he said, grinning. “Kabira.”

I rolled my eyes and scanned the lounge for my woman.

I mean… Amelia .

Shit.

One life-altering speech and I was already back to being a whipped idiot. I still needed answers though.

“So… how did it go?” Logan was clearly not dropping the subject.

“Unresolved.”

“Did you say something stupid?”

I glanced at him. “Define stupid.”

He chuckled. “You know… if you made any references to her being yours. Just… overall being a jealous idiot.”

“You sound like a man speaking from experience.”

“I am.” He gave me a side-eye as we walked toward the dining area. “But you’re not nearly as screwed as I was. I said awful things. Stupid is better than awful .”

His voice dropped to a whisper as we neared the table. Everyone was already seated and eating—which made me wonder if Logan had timed this on purpose. Moron.

“Stupid, then. Definitely stupid,” I muttered under my breath.

He snorted again before sliding into his seat beside Kaylan, immediately pulling her closer with a casual arm slung over her shoulder.

And me?

I walked straight over to the empty chair beside Amelia. Took my seat like I belonged there. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Because it used to be.

God , I missed this. Her. Everything.

She stiffened slightly as I sat down, but didn’t look at me. It had been weeks since I sat down next to her.

I rested my hand casually along the back of her chair—deliberate. Intentional. And I could feel the little tick in her jaw as she sipped her juice.

Progress.

Sebastian was across the table, watching me with that damn smirk on his face like he knew exactly what I was doing.

His smirk faded slightly when Logan grabbed his mug and sipped it.

The mug was never returned back to Sebastian which made me slightly curious about what was happening. I had my suspicions, though.

Sebastian shook his head and launched into some low, heated discussion with Zane about Romlinson and their latest theory—something about diverted tech shipments. Zane was already grabbing a tablet. Kaylan and Logan were listening in.

Everyone was engaged.

Which meant the moment was perfect.

I glanced sideways at Amelia, noting how she finally relaxed enough to sip her juice again.

“You know…” I said to no one in particular, dragging the words dramatically just as her lips met the glass, “I recently learned that cock in Hindi is called Ling .”

Chaos.

Amelia choked—violently—on her juice, coughing as she leaned forward, her eyes wide and glass nearly slipping from her hand. I took it and set it aside like the gentleman I was.

Dylan, seated on her other side, didn’t even blink. He casually patted her back while continuing to chew.

I barely held in my laugh. Barely.

Logan wheezed from the other end of the table, clutching his side. “Ling? As in… Gao fucking Ling?”

And just like that, the table exploded with laughter.

Zane actually choked on his toast. Delara muttered something about morons with clearance levels.

Kaylan was covering her mouth, giggling.

Sebastian had his head in his hands, shaking it.

If Ghost and Leora were here and not on their honeymoon in the next building, I was sure they’d be losing it too.

And Amelia?

She glared at me between coughs, face flushed. “You’re the worst .”

I just grinned, smug as hell, my hand still resting behind her.

“Ling, Heeriye ,” I whispered, my lips brushing her ear. “There’s your answer.”

She blinked at me, still recovering from the near-death juice incident. “Is that… a nickname? Other than Lia?”

I tilted my head, eyes twinkling. “Yep.”

“Heeriye?” she repeated carefully, tasting it like it was a foreign candy.

I nodded once, like I hadn’t spent years obsessing over what to call her.

She squinted at me. “Okay but… what does it mean?”

I gave a nonchalant shrug. “My diamond. My powerful, unshaken foundation.”

And just like that—her mouth parted, her breath hitched, and the world fell away. No more plates clinking or Logan’s dumb laugh or Kaylan’s tiny snort at something I missed. Just her.

I couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t stop the urge crawling up my spine to grab her hand and drag her out of this lounge. Not to talk. Not to convince. To show her. She was it. My everything. My ending.

And then she ruined it.

She smirked, smug little menace. “You do realize your first ever romantic nickname for me is forever tainted because you said cock in the same breath, right?”

My smile died on impact.

A string of curses slipped past my lips. Hindi? English? I didn’t even know.

I sighed dramatically, slumped back into my chair like I’d been shot in the pride. “How can someone so beautiful be so damn cruel?”

But I rallied.

Because if she thought that was going to stop me, she didn’t know me at all.

“You know… maybe I did mess up the timing,” I muttered, shifting close again, voice low and thick. “But there’s no way in hell I’m giving it up now. Not until I take my last damn breath, Heer .”

Her whole body went still.

I leaned even closer, my lips a breath from her neck. “And I’m definitely not giving you a damn choice .”

A shiver rolled down her spine. Her hand jerked for the juice glass like I’d just whispered nuclear launch codes in her ear. She chugged it like her life depended on it.

I bit back a full-on laugh, victory blooming in my chest.

And when I glanced up, Logan was watching me from across the table, one brow raised, a little impressed. He gave me the smallest smile, then turned and pressed a kiss to the back of Kaylan’s hand, like a smug approval stamp from the idiot older brother I never asked for.

I was still close to Amelia’s neck, her pulse fluttering like a trapped bird. So, I let my lips brush the top of her shoulder—barely there, barely proper—and then casually went back to my carbs like I hadn’t just wrecked her entire nervous system with a few words and a nickname.