Page 54 of Drunk On Love

“Fine. Turn off the lamps if you want. I’m working on the couch. I’ll crash there after.”

“No.” I crossed my arms. “I told you—I can’t sleepalone.”

He scowled. “Let me make this clear: We’re not sharing a bed.”

“Oh my God,” I threw up my hands. “We’re both adults—I just needsomeone in bed.I’mnot going to accidentally assault your precious abs in my sleep, okay? Relax. You’re not my type.”

His jaw clenched.

Eyes flicked to the bed.

And for a second, he looked like he was bargaining with the universe for patience.

“This isinsane,Kiara.”

“Whatever…” I marched into the room and flopped dramatically onto the bed. “Now, go sell Saturn to the aliens and come back quietly. Your presence is medically required.”

He stood frozen for a long beat, watching me like I was a puzzle with no solution. Then, finally, he groaned again and rubbed his temples like I was giving him early-onset stress disorder.

He didn’t say anything else.

But he didn’t throw me out either.

Victory.

____________

“Kiara…? Kiara…” Manav’s voice cut through my dreams like a persistent alarm that just wouldn’t quit until I finally opened my eyes.

“What time is your interview?” he asked, his face frustratingly flawless, like he’d been up for hours doing a photoshoot instead of, you know, existing like a normal human.

“What time is it?” I croaked, my voice still thick with sleep.

“Nine o’clock.”

“Holy shit!”I yelped, bolting upright. “They’ll be here any second!” Panic surged through me as I scrambled out of bed, sprinting toward the washroom without a second thought.

“Hey… that’s…” Manav’s voice trailed off behind me as I slammed the door shut, cutting him off just as a knock echoed from the front door.

I’m in Manav Oberoi’s bathroom!

First his bed, now his bathroom. And, of course, everything in here was drenched in his intoxicating scent—subtle, woodsy, and entirely too distracting.

My reflection in the mirror wasn’t helping either. Wild hair, puffy eyes, and the faintest trace of drool on my chin.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I stared at the mirror in sheer disbelief. How did this happen? I’d only wanted to quickly wash my feet, but instead, I’d walked right into Manav’s shower—the showerhead hit me square in the face and soaked me from head to toe.

I cracked the bathroom door open, only to be greeted by not one gasp—butthree.

Meeta and Kartik were standing in the doorway, staring at Manav and me like we’d just committed a murder.

Manav’s voice broke through the chaos, dripping with irritation as his scowl deepened. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Oh. Right. Somewhere between realizing my lacy sleepwear was soaked and panicking about the interview, I’d grabbed his shirt hanging on the door. It was a bit… oversized. And clung to me in all the wrong places.

Kartik cleared his throat awkwardly, his face a careful mask of neutrality, though his twitching lips betrayed him. Meeta, however, wasn’t so subtle—she elbowed Kartik hard in the side, her attempts to stifle her laughter failing miserably.