Chapter Fifteen
NASH
Kiran had stopped midlaugh, and Nash gazed at her, observing her serious face and wondering what she was thinking. She had a strong nose, sort of like those Roman statues that he’d seen in books. Her jawline was square underneath lips that were delicate against her other features, balancing them out. Her mouth fell into a pout when her smile faded, like the duck face girls sometimes posed with in photographs, except that she never put any effort into it.
Had he crossed a line? Again?
She had seemed comfortable, and his playful actions were something he’d never thought twice about before with other girl friends or girlfriends.
“You okay?”
She jumped. “I totally had a girl moment where I wondered if I turned off my curling iron!”
“You burned your apartment down, didn’t you?” He knew Kiran was the type to triple-check whether she’d turned off her appliances.
“No big deal if I did.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s only every single one of my possessions I’ve collected since I moved to the United States.”
“Not a big deal at all. I’d offer you my place, but in this hypothetical situation, my apartment has burned down along with yours. Good work.”
“Guess we’re sharing a cardboard box together then.” There it was again. That twinkle in her eye that made his heart skip a beat.
He had a vision in his mind of Kiran wearing a tee and shorts around his kitchen. The thought of her curvy legs with her brown skin exposed turned him on unexpectedly.
Kiran’s eyes remained on his face, and Nash imagined currents flowing between them. He questioned whether he was losing his mind or whether she felt them too.
Then her mouth curved upward, and his gut lurched like it was taking a victory lap.
“Do you want to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge?” She gestured in the direction of the water with her head.
“Honestly, if it helps me stop feeling as if I’ve got a belly like a Teletubby…I’ll do it.” Nash tried to exhale but felt like his entire body was stuffed with spaghetti doughnuts.
“It’s on your list. Also, what’s a Teletubby?” Kiran asked as they started walking through Williamsburg.
Nash’s mouth dropped open. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
The blank expression on her face told him she wasn’t.
“Oh my gosh! Kiran, I feel like you missed a giant part of childhood or something.”
“Is it like Sesame Street?”
“Okay, now I feel a little better. Did you have a television growing up?”
“Nope.”
“Now you’re completely off the hook. The Teletubbies are these cute, awkward alien creatures that make weird noises and talk to children.”
Kiran stared at him. “That sounds so creepy. I don’t actually ever want my children to watch a show like that.”
Nash burst out laughing. “I can’t blame you. It’s more of a pop culture reference now than anything kids watch.”
“If it makes you feel better, I learned about Sesame Street because I screamed after being accosted by Elmo in Times Square.”
“That guy is creepy! Also, why does he charge five dollars for a photograph?”
“The fact that you know he charges five dollars for a photograph makes me question what I’m doing hanging out with you.”
“Honestly, I was wondering why you hung out with me too.”
Kiran finally broke their mile-a-minute banter by giggling. “Must be your good looks.”
Warmth spread from Nash’s heart to his extremities. Girls had told him he was good-looking before… He was somewhat tall, and he was blessed with good teeth. But none of those compliments had ever quite reached him the way an offhand remark from Kiran did.
What is going on with you, dude?
Brandon’s voice from the other week rang through his mind: I was having fun until I met her.
Nash couldn’t say for certain that life had completely transformed since he met Kiran. Love didn’t work that quickly, as far as he knew. Like didn’t even work that way. But a small seed had been planted inside him by Kiran’s presence, one that prompted him to notice more beauty around him and feel a little happier. That was enough for him for now.
For now.
“I love this view,” Kiran murmured as they stood in the middle of the pedestrian walk on the Brooklyn Bridge.
Here was the famed view on all the postcards of Manhattan. But Nash didn’t think any of them did it justice. Beyond the brown brick, the crowds of people, the traffic flowing beneath them, and the cables crisscrossing in a hatch across the arches was the east skyline of the city.
The buildings on the south side of the island reminded Nash of an M. C. Escher painting, staggered and piled on top of one another. Rooflines appeared to collide, and various heights of skyscrapers contrasted against one another.
On the right of the bridge was the East Village and beyond. Nash could see Roosevelt Island, with its famed tramway. The river sparkled underneath them and on the left side, the Statue of Liberty raised her famous arm, welcoming anyone who wanted to seek solace here.
What a beautiful day to be alive.
“You’re captivated,” Kiran said at the observation of his open mouth and wide eyes.
Captivated was right. Kiran’s hair blew wildly in the crosswinds, and her skin gleamed golden under the sun. She was half storm and half sanctuary, and Nash didn’t know into which he wanted to sail.