This wasn't the time to ask him if he enjoyed the kiss or not.Chapter 3 - this chapter is told from the perspective of Rohan, Rahul'sbrotherI always thought Rahul bhaiya was cool. He had cool friends, wore hishair stylishly and was antiestablishment. I was the nerdy, quiet one.The last two years had changed our equation completely. He was now thisbeautiful sister I had, who I loved as my sister. I was hard not to. Shewas a beautiful girl, as graceful and feminine and made me awesomesandwiches when I was came back from a game of tennis. I hoped, for hissake, mom would allow him to become Rahul again.I was walking into the concert hall with mom to watch Ridhi perform hisdance recital. Two hours earlier, I saw him exit his room dressed forthe recital. He was done up on a traditional Indian do - he was wearinga purple benarasi saree, with his hair done up in a big chignon. He waswearing around 10 bangles in each hand. His face was done up in heavymake up and he work large dangling. The mushroom cap.After a few seconds it twitched and she snatched her hand away, breathing hard. It looked bigger.Where the courage came from, how she found herself straddling him, she would never be able to say. For once, her gangly limbs came in handy so that she could perch without touching him, her dress puddled around her waist and her ringlets hanging on either side of his face and all she wanted to do was kiss those beautiful lips, so close to hers.Would he mind?A nudge on her inner thigh startled her, made her glance down. It was pointing right at her, and when she looked up again, shocked, all the breath left her body.Abdel-Nasser's eyes were open. Wide open.Her heart rammed against her ribcage.His eyes gazed straight into hers, a jolting black like an ebony sun in an ivory sky, and she couldn't look away, couldn't move.His hands awakened at the periphery of her vision, she hardly saw them, his left hand burrowing under her dress to her waist and his right hand pulling aside.
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