The eyes he turned on her smoldered with the knowledge that she’d let escape that she was thinking about his body and the clothes he put on it. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone there. But man, that thigh of his had not been junior sized, and his stupid gold-flecked eyes said he knew it.

“But pizza is so tasty,” Hari said. “Do I have to give it up?”

“No!” Naina patted Hari’s shoulder. “You eat as much pizza as you want and ignore Vansh. The rest of us do.”

Hari grinned and looked at Naina the way the lamb from the nursery rhyme had to have looked at Mary when he followed her to school.

Then he gave Vansh an apologetic look, not wanting him to feel like he was being disloyal. “I would never ignore Vansh. Vansh saved my life,” he said sincerely, picking up a slice.

“He did?” Makayla and Sadiya sat up and turned toward Vansh. They had moved past losing their good sense when he was in the room to taking great enjoyment in teasing him.

Color crested Vansh’s cheeks even as his deep, deep dimples dived into them. “That’s not exactly true. I merely assisted Hari while he was inebriated.” He threw Naina another ruthless smolder. “That’s something I’m good at.”

“Did he also cause you to get drunk in the first place?” Naina asked sweetly.

“No!” Hari looked horrified. “I just didn’t know that the orange juice wasn’t only orange juice. Why would Vansh do such a thing?”

“Yes, Naina, why would I do such a thing? It’s not like I can predict how people will act when they’re drunk.” He was all innocence, and it scrambled every bit of her own good sense.

How could eyes be this comforting? How could a face cause so much pleasure? And that’s why he was so dangerous. She’d do well to keep those large-eyed critters in mind.

“I was very badly behaved.” Hari scarfed down his pizza in too-big bites.

“It’s not badly behaved to be honest. You told me the truth.” Vansh’s eyes were in a tight lock with Naina’s. “I was happy to be the person you turned to. I regret nothing.”

“Such a giver,” Naina said.

“Is that a bad thing?” Vansh said.

The phone on the table buzzed loudly, startling them both. Sadiya pressed the talk button. “Yes, Mariel?”

“Mr. Mehta is on his way inside.”

Before Mariel had finished that sentence, there he was, Jiggy in a leopard-print tracksuit, smiling too widely at the gathering in the room. He’d given Vansh his hearty blessings on the app—of course he had—before jetting off to New York again. A respite that hadn’t lasted long enough. Naina’s body tightened involuntarily at the sight of him, the way one braces for a punch.