“Hey, man! How’s it going?” Pradeep asked, moving away from Sejal’s hold. Poor guy. He seemed nice, and Sejal was probably going to ruin this trip for him because of me.

In a matter of minutes, the guys brought the cars around.

“Bhanu’s with us!” April declared, leading her to the “bride’s car” with Maya driving. Seemed that April aimed to sit in the back with a blatantly annoyed Sejal.

April gave Sejal a warning look, but Bane must’ve noticed. She frowned at me, like I was throwing her into the lion’s den.

“We’ll go together,” I said, wrapping an arm around Bane’s waist in a weird tug-of-war with April hooking arms with her.

“Nonsense. It’s a short drive. It’s fine,” April insisted.

“April…” I said, looking her dead in the eye, and she knew exactly what I meant.

“Oh, right.” She released Bane. “Sorry! I just love getting to know new people, but we have plenty of time for that! I didn’t mean to touch your arm without your consent.” Nice save. Except I’d touched Bane without her consent, but now she was nestled into my side of her own will.

“That’s okay. I appreciate the welcome,” Bane said with a generous tone.

We filed into our cars, and since we were part of the “groom’s side,” we now had one extra person. But the car was big enough for us.

“I’ll sit in the middle,” Bane offered.

“No, that’s okay.”

“You really want to sit with your legs squished in the middle car thing? It’s fine.”

No, what I really wanted was for her not to be sitting next to Pradeep. While he seemed like a nice person, I didn’t know him. But Bane was already scooting into the car.

Once in, we kept our hands to ourselves as the guys asked Bane all about her work and where she was from.

I let the conversation go for as long as Bane seemed comfortable. She gave vivid, energetic answers but never delved into many details. I clenched my fists in my lap as I watched Pradeep’s widespread knees inch closer and closer to Bane’s bare legs with every turn and bump, until his knee touched her.

I gritted my teeth and she tensed. I looked at him, my lips parting to tell him to move the hell away, when she scooted closer to me and politely told him, “Oh, do you mind?”

“Ah! Sorry about that.”

“Thanks.” She was much sweeter and nicer than I would’ve been.

Pradeep didn’t look at me. He kept his usual friendly smile on his face and paid attention to the information Sam and Aamar were throwing at us about the coffee farm.

With our thighs and arms smooshed together, I muttered in Bane’s ear, “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes, why?” she whispered back.

“We’re touching?”

“I don’t mind.”

I tried to make myself smaller, but that was impossible in this car. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the cramped seats.”

She looked up at me, her face extremely close, her smell and warmth consuming. She gave a reassuring smile. “I know you. It’s fine.”

“Okay.” I would make sure we went in couples next time because Bane didn’t need to subject herself to this.

She also didn’t need me staring at her mouth like I’d never seen one before. Her lips twitched and I swallowed hard, dragging my gaze away and catching Aamar watching me from the rearview mirror with an amused smile.

Shit. But I supposed the game here was to convince my friends we were dating.

When we’d finally arrived and parked at a small parking lot adjacent to the farm, I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough, pulling Bane out after me. I kept glancing at her, searching her face for clues of discomfort. But she seemed to be fine, just as she’d said. If there was one thing I knew about Bane, it was that she spoke her mind. She’d tell me.

We spent the next half hour learning about the coffee planting, picking, cleaning, drying, parchment peeling, and roasting processes. Then we roasted our own beans in little roasters, where April giddily slapped on a label with the wedding date, names, and picture.

Then we stood at the top of a sloping hill covered in coffee plants. Bane and I stood off a short distance while the others, in pairs, took pictures and videos.

“Thanks for coming,” I began to tell her.

“Since it’s my fault? Yeah, yeah.”

“Yes, but I was going to say even though you had to be touched in a car.”

“Sounds much worse than it was. It’s okay.”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. We’ll go in couples from now on; otherwise you don’t need to come.”

She pouted. “Don’t break up the bride and groom cars.”

“You’ll either be touched or in the bride’s car without me.”

“I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can handle myself.”

“Or we can Uber.”

“No. Hang out with your friends. I do not mean to take you from them.”

I wasn’t expecting her consideration. In fact, she hadn’t complained once.

“Shame you guys didn’t come around February or March,” she said, looking down the slopes of endless rows of short coffee trees.

“Why? Less people? More available rooms?”

“Yes, but the Kona snow.”

“Snow?”

“All the coffee plants flower these tiny white blooms, and it looks like the plants are covered in a dusting of snow.”

“Ah. Sounds pretty.”

“Your friends are watching.”