Chapter 49
Dating Mehul had been slow.
Soft dates.
Flirty moments.
Touches that lingered just a little too long.
But now?
Now, there was no hesitation.
No more teasing.
No more are we really together?
Because Mehul?
He was done waiting.
And tonight?
Tonight, he made sure I knew it.
I should have realized it the moment he texted.
Mehul: Dinner. My place. 8 PM.
My place.
Not a restaurant.
Not a café.
His place.
…Oh.
Oh no.
I immediately spiraled.
What does this mean?
Is it just dinner?
Why is my heart beating like a drum?
I should've been calm.
We were dating.
This was normal.
Except nothing about Mehul was ever normal.
And when I finally knocked on his door—
He proved it.
He opened the door.
And the first thing I noticed?
The smell.
Something warm, rich, homemade.
I frowned. "You… cooked?"
Mehul leaned against the doorframe. "I do that sometimes."
I blinked.
Because no.
This wasn't just sometimes.
This was for me.
I stepped inside. Tried to act normal.
Tried not to focus on the way his apartment smelled like spices and something stupidly comforting.
Tried not to focus on the fact that Mehul was cooking for me.
Tried not to focus on how domestic this all felt.
I failed. Miserably.
The food? Amazing.
Mehul? Even worse.
Because he wasn't just sitting across from me like usual.
No.
He sat next to me.
Close enough that our arms brushed every time we reached for something.
Close enough that when I turned to talk to him, his face was right there.
Close enough that I could feel the warmth of him.
It was intentional.
And I was losing my mind.
I cleared my throat. "So, uh… what made you cook tonight?"
Mehul hummed. "You like homemade food."
…Oh.
My stomach flipped.
Because he was right.
And the worst part?
I had never told him that.
He just knew.
I swallowed. "You—You notice too much."
Mehul smirked. "I told you. I pay attention."
WAS. DONE.
After dinner, I tried to leave.
Really. I did.
But then—Mehul pulled me onto the couch.
Pulled. Me.
Like it was normal.
Like I belonged there.
And the worst part?
I let him.