“Sliding into DMs isn’t too different from a dating app.”
He took another bite of the pasta, and a drop of red sauce touched the corner of his lip. “Have you spoken to many people in your DMs?”
“Nope. You were the first. But that doesn’t mean others will find it weird.” She gestured to the corner of his mouth. If he didn’t clean it up, she feared she might, and she definitely didn’t need to know what his lips felt like, even under a napkin. “You have a little . . .”
He dabbed it. “Thank you.”
“No problem. So, yeah, we say we met online, became friends, and now we’re meeting up in real life.”
“Got it. You’ll have to show me how direct messages work at some point.”
Jia squinted at him. “You’re not on social media much, I guess.”
“I am not.” Dev pulled his bread plate closer to his pasta dish and twirled off a generous portion. “Here, try this. It’s good.”
She accepted the small plate, touched. Had he noticed her side-eyeing his food? “Have some of mine.” She placed one of her crab cakes on her bread plate and slid it over.
“Thank you,” he said politely. They ate for a few moments in silence, and then he stirred. “Can you tell me about your high school experience here? I’d like to know what Luna might be facing.”
She smiled. “Sure.” They spoke for a while about their respective teenage years. There were differences in their educations, which she expected, given their different countries, but there were a lot of similarities, too, given that they’d both stood out at their respective schools.
“I stopped going to traditional school after my parents passed,” he explained. “Which was for the best. In India, my last name would have made learning almost impossible.”
There was such darkness in his eyes when he spoke about his parents’ deaths that Jia wanted to reach out and hug him, but she reminded herself again that she didn’t know him well enough for that. Instead, she tried to do what she did best: bring the light. “I know exactly what you mean. The burden of a last name! Imagine every teacher you have thinking you’ll be a carbon copy of your four smart, popular sisters, and then letting them down.”
The lines around his eyes crinkled. “You got into medical school, so I imagine you didn’t let them down too much.”
“There’s hundreds of ways to let someone down.” Jia, stop talking. Jia, you’re too loud. Jia, focus. Sure, she’d learned to mask, but it hadn’t been easy.
He shook his head, and took the last bite of food on his plate. She’d already polished off hers. The other side effect of being the runt of the litter: eating extremely fast, lest someone else grab the last serving. “This was a very productive getting to know each other meal, I think,” he said.
“Yup. I think we covered a lot of ground today.” Despite how nervous and stiff she’d felt when the night started.
“We did, yes. I—” He frowned and reached into his pocket. “I’m sorry, someone keeps calling me.”
“That’s fine.”
He glanced at the number and picked it up. “Hello? Oh.” He listened quietly for a moment, then nodded, his frown deepening.
“I’ll be right there.” Dev hung up. “I’m so sorry. My niece is sick. A headache. She doesn’t normally get sick.”
With anyone else, Jia might think this was a ploy to get out of a boring date, but this wasn’t a date and Dev wasn’t that type of guy and he looked genuinely concerned. “I used to always get sick on the first day of school.” She signaled for the waiter and made a signing motion. “Let’s get the check. I can drive you home.”
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. If she’s sick, you should get home to her.” Jia dared to edge her hand closer to his. “I’m sure it’s a cold.”
“Right.” He smiled, but it was more like a baring of teeth. “A couple of weeks into living in a new country, of course she’s not well. New germs for her to get used to.”
“Exactly.”
Dev quickly paid the check when it arrived. Once they’d hurried outside, she cleared her throat. “Um, you know, since this”—she gestured between them—“is mostly for my benefit, I can pay for our meals and stuff.”
He moved closer to her as they walked, and she inhaled whatever spicy cologne he was wearing. For a second, she recalled what he’d smelled like when she was almost plastered up against him outside that bar, and then she roundhouse kicked that memory out of her nostrils.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Doesn’t feel quite right,” she fretted. “How about I pay for any dates that are my idea?”
He huffed out a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m debating whether I get to pay for you.”
“Trust me, if you’d asked me when I was really pissed at you, I wouldn’t have thought I’d be conflicted about this at all.” She got into her car, waiting patiently while Dev contorted his long body into her vehicle. She asked for his address and keyed it into the GPS.
“Does that mean you’re not mad anymore?”
Jia kept her eyes on the road. “It’s complicated.”
“I understand.”
Him being so agreeable was one of the reasons it was complicated. “I’m mad at your cousin. It’s hard to hang out with you and not be a little confused. It’s, like, dissociative to feel like I know you, except . . . I don’t know you.”
He hmmed.
“But I don’t want to slap you anymore, no,” she finished.
“Good.” He leaned toward her a little, which in the cramped confines of the car meant that he was leaning toward her a lot. “I’ll do my best to make up for what my family did. I promise.”
She shouldn’t put so much stock in his words, and maybe it was that he’d been nothing but kind to her, or how sweetly he talked about his niece, but Jia softened and nodded. “Okay.”
They drove the rest of the way in relative quiet. Dev’s condo building was a high-rise with big windows that she was sure gave good views of the beach.
“Thanks for the ride. I’m sorry dinner was interrupted,” he said again.
“It’s no problem.”
“Why don’t you text me when you’re free next?”
A little thrill ran through her. “I will do that.”
He opened the door and got out, then leaned down to peer at her. “I’m enjoying learning about you.”
And even though she knew it had been a faux date for a fauxmance, she still fell into his famous brown eyes. “I hope your niece is okay.”
“I’m sure she is. Text me when you get home.”
She nodded. It was a phrase she’d heard ten million times, from every overprotective person in her life, but it hit different when he said it. It actually made her feel like butterflies were exploding inside her? So weird.
He tapped his knuckles on the roof of her car. “Good night, Jia.”
“Good night.” She said his name after he closed the door. “Dev.” She watched him walk into the building. He had such broad shoulders. Broad and wide, and then they narrowed down to that—