Page 32 of When Love Trespassed

Shaurya was seated comfortably on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, drink in hand, looking dangerously relaxed as if he was more than enjoying the attention.

Because right now, hovering around him like he was the centre of gravity, were her friends Jyoti and Kavya, practically glowing as they laughed at something he said.

He looked smug and annoyingly handsome, and worst of all, he knew it.

“Shaurya,” Kavya began, leaning slightly forward with a grin, “why don’t you come to the community pool anymore? We used to see you there every other evening.”

“Yeah,” Jyoti chimed in. “You practically owned the pool for a while.”

“You once said your villa pool was always a mess because of the mango leaves and rotten fruits, remember?” Kavya asked.

Shaurya gave a quiet chuckle, setting his drink down. “That’s still true. It is a mess.”

“So what happened?” Jyoti asked with mock concern. “The pool misses you. We all do.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t found the time lately. I’ve been… occupied keeping a check on Mr. Raichand’s recovery. That takes up my time.”

“But now that Grandpa’s doing better,” Kavya said, nudging him playfully, “can we expect you back at the pool sometime soon?”

Shaurya didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted straight to where Nandini stood silently in the archway between the living room and the kitchen.

Then, his lips quirked. “Yes. Of course. Very soon.”

Nandini’s jaw clenched. Her grip on her glass was so tight that it would probably shatter if she squeezed any harder.

But what truly irked her was that Shaurya wasn’t even trying to push them away.

No, of course not. Mr. Touch-Me-Not , Shaurya Ahuja was suddenly all smiles and civil responses. Sure, he wasn’t exactly flirting back, but he wasn’t pulling away either. And to top it all off?

Kavya had asked him if he wanted the chicken pepperoni pizza, and the man had nodded in affirmation.

Nandini blinked, seething silently. He said no to me… but not to her?

She watched in indignation as Kavya placed a fully loaded slice of chicken pepperoni pizza on Shaurya’s plate like she was just presenting him with an award. And he even said ‘thank you’ with that rare half-smile of his.

Oh, she was going to throw something now. A cushion. A plate. Maybe the entire speaker system.

She marched past them, pretending to adjust the music volume, when in reality, all she wanted was a reason to walk by and glare. But it didn’t work. No one noticed.

Not even him.

Of course , she thought bitterly. Because why would my neighbour, who literally lives next door, who overdoes his push-ups when I’m gardening, who lectures me about junk food and then eats the same junk when Kavya offers…why would he notice me now?

“Deep breaths,” Priya whispered from behind her, having silently walked up to her. “Or the steam from your ears might start melting the fairy lights.”

“I’m fine,” Nandini snapped.

“Sure. That’s why you’ve been staring at him like you’re plotting his slow and painful death via pepperoni.”

Nandini groaned, rubbing her temples. “Next time, no pizza party. In fact, no house party at all where Shaurya Ahuja and these girls are invited together.”

And as if he’d heard her, at that exact moment, Shaurya glanced up.

And caught her gaze.

Their eyes met across the room, and the conversation around him blurred. His eyes didn’t waver. They held hers with that maddening calm confidence. But there was a glint of smug amusement swimming in their depths. The “I-know-you’re-jealous” kind of glint.

She blinked once, then narrowed her eyes as if silently asking him: Really? You refused the pizza from me, and now you’re eating the same pizza because just because she offered it? What are you trying to prove, Shaurya Ahuja?

Her cheeks betrayed her by heating up, and before she could look away, he raised his slice of pizza slightly, like a silent toast, and took a bite, all the while holding her gaze.

The smugness in that one look nearly made her combust.

Her mouth parted in a sharp gasp, indignation practically radiating off her in waves. Unbelievable.

He gave a small shrug with his eyes, as if to say, You offered as a host. She offered as… foreplay.

It hit her square in the gut.

“You’re doomed,” Priya whispered beside her, grinning. “I told you, this is way better than any Netflix rom-com.”

Nandini scowled, turning away with a final muttered curse.

“I hope he chokes on that stupid pepperoni.”

*****************

An hour later

The music had long stopped, reduced now to soft chatter and occasional bursts of laughter from the living room where Varun and her friends still lingered. But Shaurya was gone.

Nandini noticed almost immediately.

Lakshmi Aunty, passing by with some tissues, casually informed her, “He got a call. Sounded like a business one. Went back to his villa.”

Nandini bit back the wave of frustration that swelled in her chest and went to the kitchen to serve the dessert. Choco lava cakes. The scent was rich, warm, comforting and completely wasted on her now-annoyed appetite.

She handed a cake to Grandpa, only to watch in horror as he picked up not one but two cakes.

“Daadu,” she scolded, “that’s way too much sugar.”

He waved her off. “Thank God that Shaurya is not here. He’d have confiscated it already and handed me some dry fruit nonsense instead.”

She blinked.

“But the guy deserves a choco lava cake too. He’s been looking after me pretty well,” Grandpa said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you offer him a cake?”

Grandpa gave a suspicious shrug and popped a piece of cake into his mouth. “He apologised to me today.”

Nandini stilled. “Wait—what?”

“For that New Year’s night drama,” her grandfather explained, licking chocolate off his thumb. “He came clean. Said some things he shouldn’t have. And I said some things I shouldn’t have. Happens.”

Nandini blinked, her chest tightening not with shock, but something far more unexpected. Relief .

He apologised?

She knew Shaurya wasn’t the type to bend easily, not to anyone.

Especially not to her grandfather, with whom he had been exchanging barbed sarcasm ever since they’d become neighbours.

But just the thought that he had taken that step, swallowed his pride, and made peace with him, it sparked something warm in her chest.

A small, surprised smile tugged at Nandini’s lips. “I’m… glad you two talked.”

More than glad, actually. It was like watching two boulders finally stop crashing into each other and settle quietly, side by side. A quiet hope stirred in her. Maybe things really could change.

Grandpa nodded and gestured towards the cake box. “Well, now go give it to him. And don’t ask too many questions.”

She was still processing that when Varun chimed in, lounging on the armrest beside Grandpa. “Yeah, Nandini. Go on. You’re the host. It’s technically your duty.”

Before she could argue, Kavya suddenly offered sweetly, “If she’s too busy, I can take it to him.”

That did it.

“No,” Nandini said quickly, grabbing a box and sliding the cake inside. “I’ll go.”

‘Not because Kavya said so,’ she told herself. ‘Because I need to give him a piece of my mind, too.’

Fuming, she walked out the door, her steps growing more determined with every second. She reached his villa and rang the doorbell with anger. A few seconds later, the door opened, and there he was. Her maddeningly hot and handsome neighbour.

Jeans that moulded his hips and thighs. Black shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Hair slightly tousled. Barefoot and unbelievingly calm.

He stood there, completely unfazed.

And in that moment, he looked just like the choco lava cake in her hand. Sinful, tempting, and irresistible.

She shoved the cake box toward him. “Here. From Daadu.”

Shaurya tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You shouldn’t hand food at the door. It’s rude.” Then, stepping aside, he added, “Come in.”

With a dramatic groan, Nandini stormed inside his home without waiting for an invitation. Her dress swayed with every furious step as she marched straight to the dining table, the very same table from New Year’s Eve. The one that had unknowingly branded itself into her memory.

She set the cake down on the table with a thud, then spun around to face him.

Shaurya had already shut the door and stood before her with the kind of infuriating calm that made her want to scream. He looked like sin wrapped in denim, and she hated that her heart still had the audacity to skip a beat.

“You okay?” he asked. “You look… pissed.”

She jabbed a finger against his chest. “Pissed doesn’t even begin to cover it, Mr. Ahuja.”

Shaurya blinked slowly as if he was studying an art piece instead of an irate woman. He had seen her flustered, annoyed, even exasperated, but never this angry at him.

“All week you’ve been giving me these… looks ,” she accused. “Those intense, unreadable stares that make me question my own reflection.”

He raised an eyebrow, trying not to smile.

“And today?” She threw her hands in the air. “Today, you suddenly decide to be Mr. Community Sweetheart? Letting my friends hang all over you like you’re the last protein bar in a yoga retreat? Letting them talk about you swimming in the club pool like they’re auditioning you for Baywatch?”

“I wasn’t flirting,” he replied calmly. “I was…talking.”

“Talking?” she mimicked with a scoff. “You refused pizza from me but took it from Kavya like she was offering you a gold medal. What was that, calorie-selective diplomacy?”

He stepped toward her, his amusement turning into something darker. Something molten.

“You sound jealous, Nandini,” he said.

She didn’t retreat. Instead, she stepped closer. Her chin tipped up defiantly as looked him square in the eyes.

“I am jealous,” she whispered. “Because you’re my neighbour. Mine. Not theirs. I should have your attention. Not Jyoti. Not Kavya. Not any of them.”

Something shifted in his eyes, and before she could catch her breath, he reached forward and cupped her face roughly but gently, his thumbs stroking the heat blooming on her cheeks.

“Nandini,” he whispered, and just the sound of her name from his lips made her breath hitch. “I remember the last time you said I ambushed you with a kiss. No warning. No breather.”

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

“So this time,” he murmured, his voice a deliberate promise, “I’m giving you both.”

Her lips parted. Her hands clenched the fabric of her dress at her sides to keep them from reaching for him first.

He leaned in, his lips a breath away from hers.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he said huskily, his gaze locked with hers. “And to hell with angles, metaphors, or timing. I promise, this is a fully updated version.”

Her knees turned to jelly, and every nerve in her body buzzed like a live wire.

His lips hovered just inches from hers. “Do I have your permission?”

She could barely speak, but she couldn’t wait to say it. “Yes,” she breathed with certainty.

And then he kissed her, his lips claiming hers in a way that made her world tilt. He sucked on them gently, slowly and made those sounds that proved how much he had wanted her.

This time, there was no confusion. No mistaken identity. No darkness hiding them. It was just him and her and all the heat they’d both been denying for too long.

And Nandini, who had come here to yell, argue, maybe even throw a spoon at him?

Could only melt into him and kiss him back.

Over and over again.

His hands cradled her face like she was made of something precious as he smooched her again and again.

Even when they paused to breathe for a second, their lips found each other, and they kissed again, hungrily.

She clutched his shirt, drawing him closer, tasting him like she was in no hurry to end this kiss.

Shaurya Ahuja was an incredible kisser.

He backed her against the edge of the table, his one hand gently sliding down from her shoulder to her arm and then on her waist, dipping further towards the hem of her dress. She parted her lips right then to let him slide his tongue into her mouth and taste her. She tasted like she was his.

Shaurya fisted the edge of her dress before slowly inching it upward, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her outer thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

She let out a throaty moan as he pulled away and kissed her jawline, his fingers still caressing her legs underneath her dress.

He wanted to freeze this moment forever.

Just him and her. Kissing, touching, and just feeling.

And then…

Suddenly, a voice rang out from outside. Priya. She was calling for Nandini.

She jolted back as if reality had just thrown a bucket of cold water over her. Her face was flushed, and her breathing ragged. Panic flickered in her eyes as she straightened, unsure whether to run, hide, or pretend the last few minutes hadn’t just happened.

Shaurya, still pressed close, exhaled a soft breath and gently withdrew his hands from under the hem of her dress. He placed them on her waist, steadying her as she leaned against the table, her legs still shaky from everything that had just happened between them.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “You came here to give me cake, remember?”

She blinked at him.

He licked his lips and smirked slightly. “Go tell them I ate it… and I loved it.”

Her blush deepened, the meaning behind his words far from innocent. They both knew he wasn’t talking about the cake.

Nandini instinctively reached up, smoothing her hair and patting down the creases of her dress like she could erase what just happened off her skin. With one last wide-eyed glance at him, she turned and rushed out before Priya could step in and witness the storm she had barely escaped.

Shaurya watched her retreat, his lips curved in something between a smirk and a sigh.

He looked back at the table— their table now, in some quiet weird way. Still warm from their touch, still holding the memory of her pressed against him like she belonged there.

But all that remained now was the box of cake, neatly set where she’d dropped it before things had gotten… intense.

He opened it, picked up the cake, and took a slow bite—rich, gooey, and sweet.

But as he chewed, his mind drifted back to her lips, her breathless gasps, and the way she trembled beneath his touch.

He looked at the remaining piece of the cake and murmured to himself with a smile tugging at his lips, “Still not as sweet as her.”

And with that, he finished the rest of the sweet treat.