Chapter 70

I had spent years avoiding Vihaan Malhotra.

Years convincing myself he didn't matter.

And now?

Now, I was walking next to him.

To a chai stall.

Like this was normal.

Like he wasn't completely unraveling me with every step.

I should have left when I had the chance.

But then—he did something completely unexpected.

We were crossing the street near Majestic when it happened.

A bus sped past, hitting a puddle just right.

I didn't even see it coming.

But Vihaan did.

Before I could react—

An arm wrapped around my shoulders.

Warm. Firm. Unwavering.

And just like that—he pulled me into his side.

The water splashed.

But it didn't touch me.

Because Vihaan?

He took the hit instead.

I stared.

Because this was Vihaan Malhotra.

The same guy who laughed too loud, teased too much, and probably had zero self-preservation.

And yet—

He had shielded me without hesitation.

His hoodie was now soaked on one side.

His hair? A mess of damp strands.

But he didn't look annoyed.

He just grinned.

"Wow. That could've been bad for you."

I blinked.

Slowly.

Then—flatly:

"It was bad for you."

Vihaan shrugged.

"Eh. I'll live."

I exhaled, dragging a hand down my face.

This guy.

I had spent years watching him from a distance.

And somehow, I had never realized how reckless he was.

I sighed. "You're an idiot."

Vihaan smirked.

"And yet, you're still getting chai with me."

…Damn it.

The Moment We Exchanged Numbers (Like an Actual Disaster)

The chai stall was small.

A few plastic stools. The sharp scent of ginger and cardamom in the air.

Vihaan ordered for both of us, like he did this all the time.

And me?

I was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't be here.

The Moment I Gave Him My Number (Like An Idiot) in this make them exchange their numbers

The chai stall was small.

A few plastic stools. The sharp scent of ginger and cardamom in the air.

Vihaan ordered for both of us, like he did this all the time.

And me?

I was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't be sitting across from him.

I shouldn't be watching the way his fingers curled around the chai cup.

I shouldn't be noticing how unfairly good he looked even with damp hair.

I focused on my tea.

Took a slow sip. Ignored the warmth spreading in my chest.

Then—he spoke.

"Hey, so if I wanna cash in on another chai someday, how do I reach you?"

I froze.

Because what.

My fingers tightened around my cup.

I should say no.

I should make an excuse.

I should—

"Here."

…WHAT.

I didn't even think.

I just reached into my bag, pulled out a scrap of paper, and wrote my number.

Vihaan took it, brow raised.

His lips twitched. "You're giving me your number on paper?"

I scowled.

He grinned wider.

"Damn, that's kinda old-fashioned. You want me to send you a letter too?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up."

Vihaan laughed.

Then—he pulled out his phone.

"Here. You might as well take mine too."

…Oh.

I hesitated.

Then—I took his phone.

Typed in my number. Saved it.

When I handed it back, he glanced at the screen and smirked.

"'Mehul. Systems Team Lead.' Wow. Professional."

I sighed. "Because that's my actual name and job?"

Vihaan grinned. "See, that's where you're missing the fun. You could've put something dramatic. Like 'Mysterious Stranger Who Saved Your Life.'"

I groaned. "I did not save your life."

Vihaan winked. "Agree to disagree."

I ignored him.

Focused on my chai. Pretended this was normal.

But deep down?

I knew.

I had just made the worst mistake of my life.

Because now?

Vihaan Malhotra had my number.

And I had his.

And I had no idea what I had just gotten myself into.