Page 4

Three. What if I was trouble?

Elias

T he night was going differently than I imagined.

It started as a break from my regular routine of staring at four walls. Then turned into being surrounded by unruly fans hating on my team.

And finally meeting the woman I know is going to change my life.

I’ve lived in Chennai for a while and this is the most I’ve explored the city. Shameless flirting, bar hopping and dancing in a club were not on my list of things to do that year , let alone that evening. But it felt really good. So good I ignored every twinge in my shoulder from all the ways I’ve pulled her into my arms. I can sort it out in PT later. Tonight is about forgetting who we are for a few more hours and enjoying what we can.

I’m also ignoring the promise I made to not fall in love with her. I’m not there yet, but I doubt it’s a promise I can keep. She doesn’t need to know that though .

My team flailing tonight is long forgotten and dreams of winning the championship trophy have been replaced by her . She’s stumped me at every turn. I don’t even care someone recognised me at the club, because she’s all that matters.

Especially since she’s speaking Malayalam.

I’ve never thought of our language as sexy, but it’s clear Vera could make anything seductive. Then it dawns on me that she understood what Kuriakose said earlier and I wince.

“Shocked I speak the same language?”

I laugh at her smug expression. “Surprised.”

“Vera Thomas. Born in Kottayam and raised all over the place. My grandparents insisted I learn to read Malayalam so I’m pretty fucking good at it.”

“Elias Joseph. Born in Kochi, raised in Bangalore and now living in Chennai. I can’t read or write, but I pride myself on speaking it fluently.”

She leans forward and in Malayalam asks, “What about you, Kuriakose?”

“I’m from Trivandrum, been working for the family for a few years. When he moved to Chennai, I also came,” my constant companion replies.

There are bits I don’t want to tell her yet. Being this version of myself is refreshing and I’m in no rush to lose my anonymity.

“Does this mean you’re finally going to tell me who you are?”

Should have seen that coming . After a long moment of battling with myself, I ask, “Would it make a difference if you knew every detail about my life?”

“I don’t want to know about your life. Only what you’re doing having someone drive you around and why you walked into a dark bar wearing a cap.”

She pulls said cap out of her bag and I turn it over in my hands. My fingers brush over the tears in the stitching, the faded logo of my childhood cricket team—Chennai Crease Crew—and my number nineteen on the front.

“Trying to keep a low profile.”

“Are you famous?”

“ Vera ,” I grind out and she rolls her eyes.

“I’ll google you later.”

“Why is this important?”

“I’ve spent the whole night with you and it’s been great. But there are moments when panic flashes through your eyes and I don’t know how to help!”

“You don’t need to help.”

“Why are we always running out of places?”

I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose as I close my eyes. I run through the various ways I can tell her who I am, without giving too much away.

“I’m sort of famous, I guess. I don’t always get recognised, but it might happen. You’re the first person I’ve met in years that doesn’t know who I am. So forgive me for wanting to live in this bubble where I get to have the attention of the most beautiful person in the world not because she knows who I am, but because she wants to have a good time.”

The car is silent, even the traffic sounds have softened. I look up to find Vera staring. It takes her a few minutes to react and the first thing out of her mouth is, “The most beautiful person in the world?”

Because that’s what she is, even if she can’t see it. She’s unfiltered and slightly messy, but I like that. The only makeup I can identify is around her eyes. Two piercings blink back at me from her ears and her wrists are covered in friendship bands, bangles and a digital Casio watch. Her hair is wild and untamed, her eyes are bottomless pools I want to get lost in.

Vera Thomas is exactly the kind of woman I have been looking for.

“Yup,” I say softly. “Almost knocked me off my feet when we first met.”

“I have a tendency to make people feel that way.”

Kuriakose clears his throat. “Is this the place?”

I look out the window and see a dosa stand with a few people milling about.

“You okay eating here?” Vera asks.

“As long as I can wear my cap.”

“As long as you let me take it off you later.”

She’s gone before I can formulate a response. As I get out, I ask Kuriakose to eat as well. As much as he works for me and drives me all over the damn city, I always feel guilty when I keep him out late. When he decided to move to Chennai with me, I built a house in the back for him. He’s family and while he refuses to let me thank him, I find little ways to show him my appreciation anyway.

In crisp Tamil? 1 , Vera orders our food and walks over to me. Kuriakose, as always, is making friends with the men at the stall. But my focus is entirely on my date. Can I call her that? She’s frowning at her darkened phone screen, huffing before putting it away and looks up at me. The crease between her eyebrows disappear and she smiles—my heart does a funny hop, skip and jump thing I can’t quite identify.

It’s rare to spend this much time with new people because most of them want something from me. Vera isn’t shy about her demands and I want the same thing: be alone with her, continue kissing and strip each other naked.

I need this woman injected into my soul.

Her eyebrow lifts and I step forward until the insistent buzzing of my phone stops me. With every intention of ignoring it, I lean in and Kuriakose says my name. Frustration drives me to pull out my phone and I see Dhruv Panicker calling flash across the screen.

“Don’t go anywhere,” I tell her.

“I’ll try,” she teases.

Shaking my head, I walk around the car and lean against the side as I answer my agent’s call.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he grumbles.

“Nice to hear from you too, Dhruv.”

“Don’t fuck with me, man. You’re supposed to be resting, not gallivanting around the fucking countryside with some piece of ass.”

I growl low, knowing he’s saying it to get a rise out of me. “I was resting. At a bar.”

“ Multiple bars. Who is she?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“She better not be some influencer who’ll cause havoc.”

I look over and she’s laughing with Kuriakose. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

“Then what are you doing?”

“Having fun, for once.”

He sighs and I can picture the way he rubs his forehead in frustration. “There are photographs of you at these bars and at the club. Where are you now?”

I remember the guy who bumped into us at the club, the way his eyes widened when he recognised me. The hand flailing backwards to get the attention of his friends while tripping over my name. I’m not really famous , but when cricket is religion and the ICL is going on, I’m suddenly thrust into the spotlight.

“Elias.”

“Getting dinner.”

He sighs again. “What the fuck is so special about her?”

Everything . Dhruv only needs the bare bones of whatever tonight is. He doesn’t believe in love, flirts with anyone that looks his way and I don’t judge him for it. When I signed on with him, we bonded over our single lives and it’s worked well all these years. Even his grouchy personality can be ignored for how good he is at his job.

“She’s interesting.”

“Are you going to tell her who you are?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Now, I need you to keep a low profile and go home.”

“Okay.”

“This is going to be a shitstorm to navigate, so don’t make it worse,” he reminds me.

“Once we finish eating.”

“Do not fuck her.”

Of course I want to fuck her, but I also want to be with her. “No promises,” I tell him.

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

I chuckle and hang up, fully aware he’s going to be blowing up my phone for the next few hours. I trust him to keep me safe and employed with a roof over my head. But telling me what I can and cannot do with my personal life? Not part of the contract I signed.

“Everything okay?” Kuriakose asks as I join him and Vera.

“Just Dhruv being Dhruv.”

Vera holds out a plate of vadas. “Ordered these while they got the rest of our food ready.”

I’m glad she doesn’t ask any questions about Dhruv or why my shoulders are practically up at my ears. She knows something is wrong by the way she rubs my arm while I bite into a vada. The hot, greasy, crunchy palm-sized snack is a weakness. One my nutritionist suggests I don’t eat. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt either of us.

Kuriakose returns to his conversation with the men at the stall, leaving us alone. There are a few people leaning against the tall tables, also looking like they’ve also arrived after a wild night of drinking and partying. The fact that Vera knows about this place—and all the spots we visited—makes me wonder how much of a party girl she really is.

“If you’re not careful, your face will get stuck like that. And for a handsome fellow, that would be such a shame.”

I blink, confused by her words until my forehead relaxes. Now she’s holding two plates with dosas? 2 and what looks like chicken curry. My mouth waters as I take one from her, my stomach rumbling loudly to remind me how hungry I actually am. When Vera moans with her eyes closed as she enjoys her meal, Dhruv’s warning to not fuck her echoes in my head. If that’s what she wants, I won’t stop either of us. And if our night ends here where I only get to hear her moan over dosa and chicken curry, then so be it.

My phone pings loudly in my pocket, earning a confused look from Vera. With my cap down, I am keeping a low profile. But my agent is going to worry about this until I’m safely tucked away in my bed.

“Whoever Dhruv is, he clearly doesn’t like you spending late nights out of your house.”

I chuckle. “He’s looking out for me. Making sure I don’t get into any trouble.”

“What if I was trouble?”

We haven’t been subtle about our attraction to each other and we’ve said we’d like to fuck the other enough times. But there is something about the way she says it that makes my dick twitch. I wouldn’t hesitate to get into her kind of trouble.

“Don’t start with me,” I warn her.

“Or what?”

“I can think of a few suitable punishments.”

She smirks and licks her fingers. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

I don’t even know what I’m capable of, but I can’t wait to find out .

“I can’t wait to find out,” she says, echoing my thoughts.

I eat faster than I ever have before, eyes trailing after her as she walks to the counter. She says something to the men and all of them laugh, including Kuriakose. She cleans her hands, still cracking the staff up before she whips money out of her purse and hands it over. I wanted to pay for dinner since she kept beating me to the punch with our drinks all night. Like she knows I’ll have something to say about it, Vera looks over her shoulder and winks.

Wicked woman .

Once I’m done, I give them my plate and wash my hands. Kuriakose makes promises to come back and see his new friends and we pile into the car. Before I can ask Vera what she wants to do, she’s directing us on where to go. Which happens to be a five minute drive to an apartment building. Turning to face me once the car has stopped, she smiles.

“I don’t want to assume the night is over…”

“It’s not,” I tell her, shaking my head. “We’ve got a few hours before it gets too late.”

“You want to spend a few more hours with me?”

I’d like to spend all of the hours with you .

“Kuriakose, I’ll make my own way home.”

“Understood,” he says in Malayalam, turning to give Vera a bright smile. “Good night, Miss Vera. It was wonderful meeting you.”

“You too, Kuriakose. I hope we see each other again soon.”

She slides out and after a stern look from my driver, I follow her. The car pulls away and she holds a finger over her mouth in the universal sign of ‘be quiet’. I nod and trail behind her as she carefully opens the gate to her building. Staying close, we go up the stairs to the third floor where she unlocks a dark door and guides me inside.

“Welcome to where the magic happens.”