Page 26 of Entangled Vows

“You don’t need carbs this morning,” he said, closing the distance between them.

Mahika blinked, totally thrown off. “You can’t decide what I eat.”

“Too bad, I already did. You need something to help detox last night out of your system.”

“How do you know what I did after you left last night?” she snapped, tilting her chin up in defiance to look him in the eye.

The moment she did that... oh, hell no. Their chests brushed. And of course, she wasn’t wearing a bra. The sudden contact sent a jolt straight to her core, and her body responded instantly, betraying her in the worst possible way, even through the barrier of a cardigan. She stepped back, but naturally, he only leaned closer. His warm, overly familiar breath tickled her neck, and the brush of his lips against her ear sent her brain into sensory overload.

“Who do you think tucked you into bed last night, sweetheart?”

Mahika stilled, her eyes wide as she tried to process his words.What. The. Hell?She staggered back, nearly losing her balance, and in that moment, he pushed past her, forcing his way inside.

“No way,” she hissed, clearly angry. Watching him walk into her house like he owned the place made her shriek. “Vikram, what the hell?”

Vikram entered the living area, his eyes sweeping over everything with that same inscrutable intensity that always unnerved her. Mahika crossed her arms, bracing herself for what was coming. He wasn’t here for shits and giggles. He was here to judge her. Like always.

Heat rose in her chest as she got more irritated, and her cardigan suddenly felt tighter. She knew the mess around would catch his attention, and he’d say something annoying. And as expected, he didn’t disappoint.

“Chaos,” he said, his tone far too critical for her liking.

She rolled her eyes and, without thinking, snatched the bra from the couch and stuffed it behind a cushion. Hopefully, he wouldn’t notice it.

And if he did? So what? Girls had the freedom to be comfortable in their own homes. Having a bra within reach was perfectly practical. He had no right to judge her based on that.

“Perhaps I would have cleaned if you had warned me,” she said, but she knew she was lying. Mahika crossed her arms as he surveyed her house critically, acting all superior. She could almost imagine him plotting hard how to restore everything to its gleaming, utensil-like state.

“Grizzly. Stop thinking about ways to fix this place. This is my home,” she snapped. “And I like it lived-in. Not everyone wants to live in a showroom.”

Although she hadn’t visited his Mumbai home, she could picture it as a stylish, sterile, and eerily quiet pad.

“And not all of us live on takeout,” he muttered, his eyes lingering on the greasy containers.

“I was busy, you nosy food freak. Fucking sue me.” She crossed her arms and fumed as Vikram cleared a spot on the counter. He wordlessly set down the flask of slimy green liquid and then pulled a container out of his bag.

Wait. Was he carrying a bag? And… was that a box of salad? She scoffed. Indeed, it was.

She liked healthy food, but come on! Indulging in a few carbs wasn’t a crime.

“Rabbit food? Wow. My roommate would adore this. But we’re all stocked up, thanks.”

His brow twitched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see,” she said with a devilish grin. “FYI, after a hangover, I always go for a breakfast loaded with carbs.” Shepointed at the salad, “No way I’m eating this ghaas-poos… and that too first thing in the morning.”

“Do you even realise what junk you’re putting into your system?”

Mahika sighed to herself.Seriously? Who made him the food police all of a sudden?

“Grizzly, stop trying to run my life. I work out, I do yoga, I eat clean… most of the days. But I also eat junk because, newsflash, I like enjoying life.” Her eyes flashed as she added, “Not that you’d know what it’s like to loosen up and have fun.”

He scoffed. “Junk is junk. There’s no such thing asgoodjunk. And Idohave fun,” he said, his voice clipped.

Mahika rolled her eyes. “Sure. Sounds like a riot… boring sex on rotation with airheads who think deep conversation is talking about their nails.”

He chuckled darkly, as if she were amusing him rather than tearing him down.

She scowled. “What’s so damn funny?”