When Dimple Met Rishi(60)

He burst out laughing, and her heart lifted in mirth in spite of her still bubbling irritation. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad. She's just being your mom."

"Exactly," Dimple mumbled as they strode across the lobby and outside. It was sort of nice that she didn't need to explain the hovering, how it really came from a place of love. Rishi got that this was just what moms and dads did in their world.



       
         
       
        

Dimple took a deep breath, acrid smog and wet mist and herby eucalyptus all mixing together in her lungs. Groups of people and a few couples milled around, all laughing and joking and calling out to each other, some obviously already intoxicated, heading off campus for the weekend.

Dimple began to climb the steep road off to their right that led off campus, imagining that they were going to a restaurant nearby, but Rishi put a hand on her arm.

"Wait a sec." Casually, Rishi grabbed Dimple's hand and they crossed the road.

She tried not to show how flustered she felt, or how much she liked the feel of his big, warm, blunt fingers loosely grasping hers. "Um, where are we going?"

Rishi gestured to a glossy black convertible with the top down. As they got closer, the doors beeped. "Our chariot awaits."

Tossing Rishi a dazed look, Dimple climbed in. When Rishi had shut her door and hopped in his side, she asked, "You drive a Beemer ?"

Rishi looked at her innocently. "What?"

Dimple snorted. "Nothing. It's just that normal people usually take the bus when they want to go somewhere far."

He looked genuinely uncomfortable as he pulled out of the space. "The bus. Right."

Feeling a little sorry for him, Dimple adjusted her tone from mocking to gently teasing . "This is really flashy for a non-date."

Rishi grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, accelerating as they climbed a steep hill. "What are you talking about? Yesterday I ordered a stretch limo when I wanted to run to the store to buy a pack of gum. Isn't that what everyone does?"

Dimple laughed. "Totally. Sometimes I'll even order a private jet."

They were quiet for a moment, feeling the wind in their hair, and then Dimple said, "So, where are we going?"

Rishi shook his head. "Still a surprise. I think you'll like it, though."

There wasn't a single place, Dimple realized, that she didn't want to go right now. Not because she wasn't picky, but because she could go pretty much anywhere with Rishi and enjoy herself. The realization was alarming. Concerning. And not altogether unwelcome.

• • •

The glitzy car dipped and reached, engine purring as it climbed the ubiquitous San Francisco hills. Rishi had turned on the seat warmers when he saw Dimple shivering lightly in the wind, so she was now perfectly comfortable. Dimple watched the buildings of the campus recede as they wound deeper into what looked like a residential district. Squat houses in pastel colors lined the road like rows of sidewalk chalk. Little potted plants decorated their stone porch stairs. An elderly man walking a little white dog looked curiously at them as they passed. 

They came to a stop at a red light. "I feel like a celebrity." Dimple smiled and turned-and found Rishi watching her, unabashed. When their gazes locked, he flushed, the tips of his ears turning pink. But he didn't look away. And Dimple didn't look away. She . . . couldn't.

The moment stretched out, soft and gauzy tangling with dark and heavy. Dimple began to notice other things; how close her bare arm was to his. The heat his body was putting out. The way he smelled-like sunshine and something woodsy and boy.

Rishi rubbed the back of his neck and somehow shifted subtly forward. The only reason she really noticed was that his arm was now rubbing against hers. Something inside her went melty and warm. His eyes were all she could see as he leaned forward. Dimple found her lips parting, involuntarily, even as she thought, This is distinctly not non-date behavior.

The SUV behind them honked. The light had turned green. Rishi started and turned away, the moment gone.





CHAPTER 32




Rishi cleared his throat as they sped down the road. Dimple adjusted her dress awkwardly, wondering if he was just as disappointed as she was. That was twice that a kissable moment had been thwarted.

A moment later Rishi signaled left and pulled up to the curb. Hopping out of his seat, he ran over to open her door, ever chivalrous. Neither of them said anything. There was a little charge of electricity in the air, that feeling of pressure right before a storm. Dimple's pulse raced. Did Rishi feel the same? His face was impassive; she couldn't say.