When Dimple Met Rishi
Page 34

“Okay, fine. But that dress goes with these boots.” Celia reached into her closet and pulled out a pair of trendy, pseudo cowboy boots. “I mean, they’re like a set. You’ll wear them, right?” She looked genuinely concerned Dimple might say no. “I just want you to have a good time. And I know you’re going to rock his socks off as you are, but this would really complete the ensemble.”
Dimple smiled, touched at the realization that Celia really thought of them as friends. This was her way of showing she cared; she was 100 percent invested in this non-date. Dimple had never had a friend quite like her before—a generous, glamorous fellow coder. “Sure, I’ll wear them. Thanks, Celia.”
• • •
Rishi smoothed over his hair. Did his floppy front bang things look better tilted to the right or the left? He flipped them one way and then another. Would Dimple even notice something like that? No, definitely right. Left made him look like an engineer. The kind with pocket protectors, not the cool kind. And for gods’ sake, why was he wearing this shirt again? He was fairly sure he’d been wearing it the first time they met, and, well, that wasn’t exactly the best association, was it? He was unbuttoning the top button when there was a knock at his door.
“Who is it?” he called, moving on to the next button.
“Um, it’s me. Dimple. Sorry, I know we said you were going to pick me up, but I got done early and thought . . .”
Crap, crap, crap. She was here ? She was here. Too late now. Rishi buttoned up again and pulled the door open, his heart in his mouth. But the minute he saw her, it thumped back into his chest, where it began thundering at warp speed.
Holy hotness, Batman.
She. Looked. Phenomenal.
Rishi couldn’t form a coherent thought.
“Wow.” He breathed out and rubbed his jaw, feeling his cheeks heat up when he realized he was staring at her thighs. Eyes up, Patel. “You look, um, just . . .”
“Yeah.” Her cheeks were staining a dusky purple as she tugged the hem of her dress, as if she could will it longer simply by sheer physical strength. “Celia sort of bullied me into this and I don’t know. It’s really not me, but—”
“No, no. You look amazing.” He gestured at her, making sure to keep his eyes on her eyes this time. Hard as that was to do. “Good job, Celia.”
She blushed even deeper, which made Rishi want to gather her in his arms. And then Dimple bit her lower lip and his brain immediately reminded him what it felt like to kiss that mouth, how soft her lips were, how silky her tongue felt that night at the party. Great. Thanks for that, brain.
With a lurch Rishi realized his brain was also diverting blood flow to other parts of his body. He immediately began to think of Nani, his grandmother with the hairy mole on her neck jowls. Yep. That did it. Whew. Crisis averted.
“So, are you ready?” Dimple asked, looking back at him.
“Yeah. Let’s do it.” He closed the dorm door behind him and stepped out into the hall with her.
Even under the sickening fluorescents of the hallway, she was beautiful. The ugly gray walls did nothing to mar her perfect cinnamon complexion, although it made most people look like walking zombies. How was that possible? Was it lust?
Rishi had heard once you were attracted to someone, your brain could actually rewire itself and make you think all kinds of sucky things about them were perfect. And then, once you’d been together awhile, bam. The gauzy lust-curtain fell away and you realized you’d married an alligator with bad breath.
Dimple glanced at him sideways, in that sneaky yet piercing way she had. “What are you thinking?”
Crap. He could not tell her he’d been engrossed with thoughts of halitosis-suffering marine carnivores. Not on their first date. Non-date. Whatever. “Just, you know. The brain. It’s an amazing organ, don’t you think?”
Dimple twisted her mouth to one side. “Yeah. Sure. You looked like you’d eaten something really gross though.”
Okay, time to change the subject. “Speaking of gross, you know who I heard from today? My little brother, Ashish.”
“Oh yeah? How’s he doing?” They arrived at the elevator, where a group of guys were noisily discussing the merits of wet T-shirt contests. Morons. Dimple, looking uncomfortable, pressed the down button, even though it was already lit.
Rishi glared at the group, but they were oblivious to anyone else except their own obnoxious opinions. “He’s doing great,” Rishi said loudly, hoping to drown them out. “He got some interest from an SFSU basketball scout, so my parents want him to come up here, maybe check out the campus and meet with some of the team. They’re here for practice, I guess. Ashish was here last summer for a camp, but this would be different, since he might actually go here for school.”
Dimple looked genuinely impressed. “That’s really great!”
The elevator doors pinged open, and the group of obnoxious guys stepped in.
“Wait for the next one?” Rishi murmured, and Dimple nodded gratefully. One of the guys held his hand out so the door wouldn’t close, but Rishi smiled brightly. “Oh no, you go ahead,” he said jovially. “Our brains need a break from all the unchecked, casual misogyny.”
The guy immediately smiled and waved in response, but as the doors closed, they heard him say, “Wait, what’d he say?”
Rishi looked at Dimple, and she burst out laughing. He thought he could maybe listen to that music all of his life. “You always surprise me,” she said, shaking her head.
“In a good way?” he asked, smiling too, not wanting to show her how much he cared.
“In a really good way,” she said, holding his gaze just a moment longer than she had to before turning to push the down button again. “So, you think Ashish is going to come stay with you?”
“Probably. To be honest, I think he’s mostly just interested in ogling college girls rather than checking out the merits of the campus.” Rishi rolled his eyes.
“Oh, like that thought never occurred to you when you were coming here,” Dimple said.
The doors opened to an empty elevator, and both of them stepped in. Rishi turned to her as the doors closed. “It didn’t,” he said seriously. “I was only thinking of you.”
CHAPTER 31
Without thinking, Dimple leaned in closer just as Rishi inclined his head toward hers. Some faint, still coherent voice inside her intoned that this was already feeling a lot like a date and absolutely nothing like a non-date. Before they could kiss, Dimple’s phone began to play “Ride of the Valkyries.” Perfect.
She jerked back and pushed her glasses up on her nose, registering the way Rishi’s face fell as he backed away too. Dimple knew how he felt; the ringtone had doused stomach acid on the butterflies fluttering pleasantly in her stomach. “Sorry.” She rummaged in her bag, noting with alarm that she was mostly disappointed, and only a very little bit relieved, that the mood in the elevator now lay shattered in a thousand pieces at her feet. Seriously. She needed to get a grip on this thing, whatever it was, before it got out of control. Sliding the screen to silence the noise, Dimple took a deep breath and said, “Mamma. Can I call you back?”
“What’s so important that you can’t speak to your own mother? I have to tell you what that Ritu auntie did to Seema. You know she wanted to see that Hrithik Roshan film, na? Vishal was about to take Seema for a date night, and then Ritu decided she was going to go with them! At the last minute! Can you believe it? I told her, Ritu, give the kids some private time—”
Dimple rolled her eyes. Rishi was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Of course he could hear Mamma, Our Lady of the Voice Like a Dentist’s Drill. “Mein friend keh saath hoon , Mamma. So I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Friend? Who’s this friend?”
She sighed and looked at Rishi. He raised his eyebrows, like, Well, now you have to say it . Dimple wished she were a better liar under pressure, but she knew if she lied now, with no preparation, Mamma would instantly be able to tell, and then she’d just get even more unbearable. Better to get it out of the way. “Okay, it’s Rishi Patel. But please don’t get any ideas—”