A real, genuine laugh escaped him, and I felt myself grin at the sound of it. He held out his hand to shake mine. “Friends?”
I gave his hand a firm squeeze. It was just as large, warm, and dry as I remembered from our first meeting. Honestly, my heart went out to the poor souls living in the world with chilly, moist hands—they didn’t stand a chance. I let go of Christopher’s before any inappropriate stirrings could make themselves known.
“Friends,” I agreed.
“Excellent.” He held my gaze for a long beat, the way only he could do. It seemed like he was considering his next words carefully.
And then, behind him, my mother’s face appeared in the window of the front door—well, the top half of her face. She must have been standing on tiptoe to see out.
“Go!” I waved Christopher away. “She’ll eat you alive if she sees you.”
Without stopping to ask what that was supposed to mean, he slipped off toward the street. As Mom flung the door open to demand that I come back inside, I heard him drive away.
And, sappy as it may be, nothing Mom said for the rest of the night fazed me, because I was floating above it all, replaying that conversation with Christopher Butkus again and again. It warmed me better than pie.
CHAPTER 31
“I CAN’T STOP LOOKINGat my hand.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Just tipsy on champagne and romance.” I sat on Sumira’s bedroom floor, my back against her bed. I held my hands up in front of my face. “I love my henna.”
Sumira, Amy, and Eva tumbled down around me in a heap of colorful fabric. I picked up Sumira’s hands and gazed at them.
“You are going to make the most beautiful bride.” These words brought out a chorus of fervent agreement from Amy and Eva. “Remember to thank your mom for agreeing to let us have champagne at themehndiparty.”
“Pfft. My mom loves champagne; don’t even worry about it.” She flopped backward onto a throw pillow.
“Was it just me or was your cousin Maira glaring at you all evening?” Amy dug through her clutch for her ChapStick.
“Yeah, she’s a teensy bit bitter that I’m getting married first. She’s been dating her boyfriend for five years.”
“Jesus.” Amy swiped on some ChapStick and then fished a bottle of Advil from her clutch and started handing out pills. “Here, everyone take some. We can’t have any hangovers tomorrow.”
“Big day.” Eva tossed a cheeky smirk in Sumira’s direction.
“The biggest.” I felt my eyes tearing up as I smiled at my gorgeous bridal bestie.
After we’d all swallowed our Advil, Eva said, “Okay, but seriously? The way Ajay was looking at you tonight?”
“And the way you were looking at him!” Amy squealed. “You guys are so in love.”
Sumira looked uncharacteristically bashful, her long lashes sweeping her cheeks as she gazed down at her lap. “Yeah. We are.”
This elicited a chorus ofawws. And then Amy started reminiscing about how nervous she and Ryan had been the night before their own wedding. I straightened up and examined my reflection in the full-length mirror that still hung in Sumira’s half-packed bedroom. My hair was falling loose from its chignon, and my face glimmered with the remnants of tonight’s festive gold eyeshadow and luminous pink blush. I touched my cheek. In my hot-pink sari, I looked like a confection. And as my best friends discussed the most romantic evenings of their lives, my mind wandered to… well.
I dug my phone out of the pocket of my sari and held it at arm’s length, tilting it to find the most flattering angle. I snapped a selfie with a coy, closed-lipped smile.
“Excuse me, what are you doing?” I gave a guilty jolt as Eva spoke over my shoulder. “Shouldn’t we be in that selfie?”
“Oh, right, of course!” I took another one with the three of them posing behind me. And then, as they returned to their conversation and started pulling out pajamas and toothbrushes, I opened a new Instagram message and attached the first photo.
“What are you doing?” Eva screeched again, her hand whipping out and stealing my phone.
“Hey!”
“Girl.” Sumira was in my face now, her expression severe. “Spill. Now.”
