Part 3

Aisha had had enough.

Enough of the stolen glances. Enough of Vihaan’s teasing smirks, his hands that lingered just long enough to drive her insane. Enough of the way he looked at her like he was already imagining how she’d sound beneath him.

And tonight? Tonight, she was done playing.

The party was loud, but all Aisha could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat when Vihaan walked in. He wore black, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms, hair tousled like he hadn’t even tried. Like he knew he didn’t have to.

His eyes found hers instantly.

Come here.

He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

Aisha tilted her chin, giving him a look that said make me.

Challenge accepted.

Minutes later, she was in the hallway, sipping her drink, pretending to be unbothered. But she felt him before he even touched her.

A hand ghosted over her waist. Warm. Dangerous.

“Running again?” Vihaan’s voice was just above a whisper, low enough that it made her shiver.

Aisha smirked, keeping her gaze ahead. “Who says I was running?”

He stepped closer. His chest brushed her back, his lips just inches from her ear. “Then why do you look like you’re waiting for me?”

Her breath hitched, but she refused to let him win. Instead, she turned—too fast, too reckless—and suddenly, she was right there. Inches away. His eyes flickered, dropping to her lips for just a second.

Her pulse thundered.

“Maybe I was,” she admitted, voice softer now.

Vihaan’s smirk faltered—just for a second. Just long enough for her to know she’d finally caught him off guard.

And then—snap.

One second, she was standing. The next, she was against the wall, Vihaan’s hands caging her in, his body flush against hers.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice was rough, like he was barely holding on.

Aisha’s fingers curled into his shirt. “You talk too much.”

That was all it took.

His mouth crashed onto hers, fierce, hungry, like he’d been starving for this. Aisha gasped, but he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss like he wanted to ruin her. And God—he was.

His hands were everywhere. On her waist, gripping her hip, sliding up her spine. Aisha barely registered when he lifted her slightly, pressing her harder against the wall, fitting their bodies perfectly together.

She should stop. She should breathe.

But she didn’t want to.

Didn’t want anything except more.

Vihaan pulled back just enough to look at her, breathing heavy, eyes dark. “I warned you,” he murmured, thumb brushing her swollen bottom lip.

Aisha smirked, dragging her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer again.

“Then shut up and finish what you started.”

And this time—neither of them held back.

Aisha didn’t regret it.

Not the way Vihaan had pinned her against the wall. Not the way his hands had gripped her like he was afraid she’d slip away. And definitely not the way he kissed her—deep, hungry, like he was finally giving in to something he’d been holding back for too long.

But now? In the quiet of her own room, fingers brushing over her swollen lips, she realized something far worse.

She wanted him again.

And that? That was a problem.

---

The next time she saw Vihaan, it was different.

No teasing. No lingering smirks.

Just heat.

It was at another gathering—casual, normal, safe. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

But the moment she stepped in, Vihaan’s gaze locked onto hers, dark and unreadable.

Aisha swallowed. She wasn’t sure what she expected—maybe a cocky remark, a smug little I told you so. But instead, he just watched her, silent, like he was waiting.

For what?

For her to regret it? For her to pretend it didn’t happen?

Too bad.

Because Aisha wasn’t about to pretend anything.

She grabbed a drink, leaned against the kitchen counter, and raised an eyebrow when he finally stepped closer. “So… we’re just standing here, staring at each other now?”

Vihaan exhaled, shaking his head with a smirk. But it wasn’t his usual teasing one. It was tighter, restrained. Like he was fighting something.

“You left that night,” he said simply.

Aisha shrugged. “What, you expected me to stay?”

His jaw clenched. “I expected you to say something.”

She scoffed. “What was there to say?”

Vihaan took another step forward. Close. Too close.

“I don’t know. Maybe that you wanted it.” His voice dropped. “That you still want it.”

Aisha’s fingers curled around her glass. “And if I do?”

His lips parted slightly—like that was what he’d been waiting for.

His hand brushed her hip, slow, deliberate. “Then we have a problem.”

Aisha shivered, but she held his gaze. “Why?”

Vihaan leaned in, breath warm against her cheek. “Because, Aisha… I don’t think I can stop anymore.”