Chapter Thirty-One: “The Fire Between Us”
670 Words
Rehaan’s POV
The morning light poured in through the windows of his Bangalore apartment, but Rehaan’s mind wasn’t on the bright day ahead. It was still caught up in her. Pakhi.
He stared at his screen, fingers hovering above the keyboard. The memory of her soft “baby” from the morning video replayed in a loop in his head. Her kiss blown into the camera still lingered somewhere in his heart—or maybe lower.
With a smirk tugging at his lips, he scrolled back to their messages from the previous night. "Jaan"—she had called him jaan. The word made his chest tighten in the best way possible.
8:19 AM
Rehaan: "You’re going to pay for that video, you know." 😈
Pakhi: "Pay? Didn’t know love came with an invoice." 😇
Rehaan: "It does now. Charges apply for killing me with cuteness." 😵💫
He chuckled. She was addictive. Her shy boldness, the way she hid her fluster in witty comebacks—it made him want more.
His shirt lay open on his chest as he stood in front of the mirror. A wicked thought crossed his mind, and before logic could interfere, he angled his phone and clicked a picture—his collarbone to just above the line of his chest, shadowed and sculpted. A playful smirk played on his face.
8:26 AM
Rehaan: "Breakfast’s done. Now your bite’s missing." 🍽️
[Image Attached]
He imagined her face when she’d open it—how she’d blush, roll her eyes, maybe mutter his name under her breath like she did when flustered. That thought alone was enough to keep him grinning all morning.
Throughout the day, he teased her in between meetings and tasks.
11:45 AM
Rehaan: "Still thinking about my picture or are you pretending to work?" 😜
Pakhi: "Why do you want me fired?" 😤
Rehaan: "Because I need you to be available full-time… for me." ❤️
He could sense her smile even through the screen.
By the time evening fell and work wrapped up, Rehaan sank into his couch, stretching his arms lazily. They had planned another video call tonight. He looked forward to it more than he’d admit.
Just as he was checking his messages before calling, a new one popped up from Pakhi.
9:04 PM
Pakhi: "Still hungry?"
[Image Attached]
The moment he opened it, his breath hitched.
Her photo wasn’t scandalous—no, Pakhi was too elegant for that. But it was enough to short-circuit his brain. A side pose of her neckline, soft lighting casting shadows from her shoulder to just enough of her cleavage to leave everything and nothing to imagination. A tease, a challenge. Pure temptation in silk.
His throat ran dry.
Rehaan: "Woman... you’ll be the death of me." 🥵
Pakhi: "Just returning the favor." 😉
His heart was racing. Not just because of the photo, but because it was her—his sweet, shy, strong Pakhi—slowly letting her walls down.
9:15 PM
Rehaan: "You want honesty?"
Pakhi: "Always."
Rehaan:
"If we were in the same city tonight, I wouldn’t be texting you right now."
"I’d be showing you what this photo did to me." 🔥
He hesitated for a moment… then clicked a picture. Nothing graphic, just enough—his shirt pulled low, the outline of his growing arousal still contained. Suggestive. Raw.
He sent it.
The silence that followed made his pulse pound.
Then—
Pakhi: "...Rehaan."
Pakhi: "I hate you."
Pakhi: "And I’m blushing like a tomato." 😳😫
Rehaan: "That’s because you’re my bacha." 😏
Pakhi: "Stop."
Rehaan: "Say it."
Pakhi: "Good night... jaan." ❤️
He fell back onto his couch, eyes on the ceiling, a ridiculous smile stretched across his face.
He didn’t need to touch her to feel her. Their connection—flirtatious, emotional, electric—was already burning through every boundary between them.
Tonight was just a glimpse of everything they could be.
And Rehaan Shaikh? He was already hopelessly, helplessly, and madly in love.
- Writer
