“I’m not an ass, Bane. I’m a decent guy.”
“Are you sure?” She poked my chest. “Because you’ve fooled me.”
I took her hand so that her little pointy finger was still against my shirt. “You obviously don’t understand people.”
She leaned into me, her eyelashes thick and dark and her skin bright with a sun-enhanced glow. Had she always looked this nice, or was this the effects of the Hawaiian sky? “I know people better than you.”
“You talk. I observe.”
She took her hand back. “Okay, Mr. Observant. What do you call me?”
“Bane.”
She hit my arm. “No. A sweet nickname befitting a girlfriend. You cannot call me Bane. What the hell? Also, you shouldn’t call me that anyway.”
“Babe?”
She furrowed her brows, studying me like she knew this was a word that I would obviously never use. “Is that what you called your exes?”
“I called them by their names.”
“No term of endearment?”
“Not really. They have names for a reason.”
“Babe sounds juvenile, silly even. It reminds me of Barbie, for some reason.”
“You’re the one who called me babe earlier,” I reminded.
“I clearly wasn’t thinking,” she retorted.
“You set a precedent.”
“No,” she grunted.
“What should I call you? What have your exes called you?”
“Sweetie. Sweetness. Sugar. Pumpkin.”
“So…food.”
“I guess so.”
“You must be edible.”
Her cheeks flushed, and mine probably did, too. Wasn’t sure why, or how, those words came out of my mouth. And now we were staring at each other again. Like idiots. Like anything other than a couple. I lost in this game of awkward chicken, my gaze flitting away and down, catching a glimpse of her low tank top. I swallowed, my eyes dropping lower to a pair of nice legs. She was toned, like maybe she jogged. Was that why she was always in joggers?
“So—why pumpkin?” I asked, not understanding why I insisted on knowing more. “Sounds like something a parent would call their kid.”
“Because I love fall and pumpkins.”
I groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls who lives for PSL season.”
“I’m that basic white girl everyone jokes about.” She beamed. “I’m not ashamed.”
“Ah, to be that confident.”
“Big PSL energy the same way I bring big UX energy. Okay. I guess just call me by my name? My actual name. Can you do that? Or is that too much acting for you?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Bhanu. Bhanu. Bhanu.”
“Sunny!” Sam called from behind me. He had an arm wrapped around April’s shoulders.
The second April’s eyes landed on Bane, her entire face lit up. She even did a jump while clapping her hands once. Hurrying over, she nearly tackled Bane before she suddenly paused and extended a fist. “So wonderful to finally meet you!”
Bane looked utterly confused, and a little adorable, as she blinked at April before granting her a fist bump.
“I told her you aren’t comfortable with physical contact,” I explained. “This is April, the bride.”
“Oh! So lovely to meet you!” Bane replied, her entire demeanor a personified rainbow, all glamour and color. She looked so normal when she talked with others. Maybe she just had a thing against me? Maybe I’d find out by the end of this trip so we could be civil toward each other upon return.
“So nice to see you again, Sam,” she said to the groom, who didn’t try to physically greet her this time.
Before we knew it, the rest of the group had arrived, and April and Maya had gathered around Bane. I didn’t catch most of their conversation, but snippets led me to believe that they loved her hair and top…the very attractive top that made even Bane look sexy.
Sam and Aamar went to retrieve the cars, leaving Sejal and Pradeep off to the side by themselves, although one could tell that he wanted to talk to me. Sejal kept a grip on his arm and eyed me, then eyed Bane, who seemed wonderfully oblivious.
“Pradeep. Sejal,” I said.
