Too old.
Too tall.
Too rich.
Too out of my league.
That's Aryan Arora, the billionaire CEO for me. But apparently, he is the perfect marriage material guy according to the world's pushiest parents of mine.
Getting married was neve...
How much do you all love me for an early surprise update?
Outfits:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Entering the room, after completing my nighttime routine, I saw Aryan sitting on the bed with a laptop in front of him.
Doesn't he get tired of working twenty-four-seven?
We were staying at Aryan's ancestral home in the town, which was more like a palace and less like a house. And because a lot of his relatives and family were also staying here for the wedding, we had to share a room. Like a normal couple. Of course.
And share a bed too, if I forgot to mention it explicitly.
I cleared my throat to get his attention. When he glanced at me briefly, I instructed, "You will be taking the couch."
He looked up from the screen, at me in slow motion, as if I had told him to jump off the balcony. "And why would I make such a sacrifice for you? What are you? The Queen of England?"
I furrowed my brows, pressing my lips together. "Because that's the gentlemanly thing to do?"
He shot me a lopsided dimpled smile, closing his laptop. Leaning forward, he asked, "What gave you the impression that I am a gentleman by any means?"
My nose flared, as I yanked my pillows from the bed, intending to march towards the sofa. "Forget about it. I will sleep on the couch."
Just as I started the pull the comforter off, a hand latched on my wrist, tugging me into the bed. I fell on the mattress with an oomph.
Aryan rolled onto, to lay on his stomach, suddenly too close to me. He tucked a piece of rogue hair behind my ear, peeping up at me. "It's so easy to rile you up, you know that?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. But then an idea came to my mind. A devious idea. It's easy to rile me up, he says. I will show him.
Giving him a sweet, innocent smile, I trailed my fingers from his cheek, working through his hair with a feather-light touch, finally settling at the top of his shoulder. An amused grin covered his face, as I wandered my hand to his chest.
