48

Tara felt like she couldn't breathe. The air in Aisha's studio felt too thick, too heavy. What just happened in that cupboard? She could still feel Aryan's breath on her skin, the way his voice had wrapped around her, his fingers grazing her wrist—too gentle, too dangerous.

She pushed through the crowd and slipped into the washroom, shutting the door behind her.

Pressing her hands against the cool sink, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing uneven. "Oh my god," she whispered to herself.

Her fingers brushed over her lips as if checking to see if they had actually kissed. They hadn't. But they almost did.

Her mind replayed the moment over and over—the way his eyes darkened, the way he stepped closer, the way he had dared her to tell him she didn't want him. And the worst part? She hadn't been able to.

Shaking her head, she exhaled sharply. "Pull yourself together, Tara. It was just a moment. It doesn't mean anything."

But she wasn't convinced.

Taking a deep breath, she splashed some cold water on her face and walked back out, determined to act normal.

The party was still in full swing when she returned. The music was loud, the lights dim, and everyone was laughing, dancing, drinking.

But the moment she stepped back into the room, she felt his presence.

Aryan.

He was standing near the bar, talking to Rohan, a drink in his hand. But he wasn't listening. His eyes immediately found hers.

Tara froze for a second before quickly looking away, pretending to be interested in whatever Aisha and Aria were talking about.

Her heart was hammering. Act normal. Just act normal.

But she could feel his gaze on her, intense and unwavering.

Aryan clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around his glass. She was avoiding him. Looking everywhere but at him. And it was driving him insane.

Rohan was saying something, but Aryan wasn't listening. All he could think about was how close they had been, how badly he had wanted to close that last bit of distance.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and muttered under his breath, "I swear to God, I just want to kiss her."

Rohan snorted. "Then do it."

Aryan shot him a glare. "It's not that simple."

Rohan smirked. "Isn't it?"

Aryan groaned, tilting his head back. Tara was still avoiding eye contact, but he knew she felt it too. The same pull, the same tension.

Tara, on the other hand, was trying so hard to act normal. She was laughing at something Aisha said, but she wasn't really listening. She could feel Aryan watching her, and it was messing with her head.

When she finally dared to glance at him, he was already looking—waiting.

Her breath caught. Why does he look at me like that? Like he still wanted her. Like he never stopped.

She quickly looked away again, but Aryan smirked this time. She's affected.

Tara grabbed a drink from the counter, taking a quick sip, hoping it would calm her down.

Aria suddenly leaned in and whispered, "You okay? You look flustered."

Tara nearly choked on her drink. "I'm fine."

Aria gave her a look. "Is it Aryan?"

Tara sighed. "I don't want to talk about it."

Aria smirked. "That means yes."

Tara shot her a glare, but Aria just laughed and took a sip of her drink. "You know, for two people who keep pretending to stay away, you both suck at it."

Tara ignored her and focused on anything but Aryan. She needed space.

But space was the last thing Aryan wanted to give her.

To take a break, Tara went to stand by the window, looking out at the Oxford skyline, trying to get her thoughts straight.

She heard footsteps behind her. She already knew who it was.

She didn't turn around.

Aryan didn't say anything either. He just stood there, close enough that she could feel his presence, but not touching.

The silence between them was loud.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "You're avoiding me."

Tara closed her eyes for a second before turning to face him. "No, I'm not."

Aryan tilted his head slightly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You are."

Tara sighed. "I just don't think there's anything left to say."

Aryan's eyes softened. "I think there's a lot left to say."

She swallowed, feeling trapped. "Aryan—"

But before she could finish, Rohan's voice called out, "Tara! We're playing another game, come on!"

Tara immediately turned away from Aryan. "Coming!"

She walked away before Aryan could stop her, but he didn't miss the way her hands trembled slightly.

He smirked to himself. This wasn't over.

The party was in full swing, laughter echoing around the room as the group moved on to their next game. The drinks were flowing, music thrummed softly in the background, and the disco lights cast a hazy glow over everything.

"Alright, new game," Rohan announced, rubbing his hands together mischievously. "This one's simple: Eye Contact Challenge."

Tara frowned. "What?"

Aisha smirked. "It's easy. Two people sit across from each other and make eye contact. The first one to look away loses."

Tara instantly regretted showing up to this party.

The bottle spun in the center of the group, moving in dizzying circles until it slowed... and landed on Tara.

She sighed, already dreading what was coming.

"Alright, who's her opponent?" Rohan spun the bottle again, and when it stopped, Tara felt her stomach drop.

Aryan.

A chorus of "Oooooh" filled the room, but Tara barely heard it over the pounding of her heart.

Aisha grinned. "This should be fun."

"Or a disaster," Aria added, smirking.

Aryan, of course, looked completely at ease. He leaned back, resting one arm on his knee, and gestured toward her. "Come on, Star. Let's see if you can handle it."

Tara wanted to run. But there was no way she was backing down in front of everyone.

She moved to sit across from Aryan, crossing her legs, her posture rigid. Aryan, on the other hand, sat way too comfortably, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch.

Aisha set the timer. "Alright. Three, two, one... go!"

Their eyes locked.

The world around them blurred.

For a second, Tara thought this would be easy. But then Aryan tilted his head slightly, his eyes darkening, challenging her.

"Feeling nervous?" he murmured, a teasing smirk playing at his lips.

Tara exhaled slowly. "Not at all."

"Really?" He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping lower. "Because you look like you're thinking very hard about something."

Tara clenched her jaw. She wasn't going to lose.

But then he did something unfair.

He reached up, rubbing his thumb against his lower lip absentmindedly, and Tara's stomach flipped.

Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to stay still.

Aryan noticed. His smirk deepened.

"You always did hate staring contests," he mused. "I remember that time in first year when—"

"Shut up," she muttered, her eyes narrowing.

"Not breaking focus, I see. Impressive."

His gaze bored into hers, his expression shifting from teasing to something else. Something deeper.

For a split second, Tara forgot how to breathe.

The air between them grew heavier, charged.

Then, without warning, Aryan's foot nudged against hers under the table.

That was it.

Tara looked away.

A loud chorus of cheers erupted around them. "Tara lost!" Rohan announced dramatically.

Tara exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the smug look Aryan was giving her.

"Good game," he murmured, his voice smooth as silk.

Tara scowled at him. "I hate you."

Aryan just chuckled and leaned in, speaking only for her to hear. "You used to say that all the time before kissing me, too."

Her cheeks burned.

Aisha snorted. "Alright, moving on before Tara actually murders him."

The next round started, but Tara couldn't focus.

Because the way Aryan had looked at her just now?

That look was dangerous.

💜