Girl Gone Viral by Alisha Rai

Author:Alisha Rai
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-02-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

WHAT DID YOU DO?

Jas glanced at the kitchen window out of the corner of his eye. His finally nonburning eye, thank God. He was only grateful that Katrina’s concoction, while initially painful, had been relatively mild in aftereffects.

He and Katrina had avoided each other for the last couple hours. He’d come outside. She’d taken over the kitchen. He had no idea what she was cooking, except she was possibly using every ingredient in their pantry and kitchen, as well as every pot and pan in their house.

Jas stabbed his spade into the ground. He yanked out the dandelion and dumped it in the garbage bag. The garden around the house had been somewhat maintained. Not to his high standards, but not bad. He was mostly out here because he could keep an eye on Katrina through the kitchen window. All without actually talking to her.

He’d kissed her. How could he have done that? How had he allowed almost a decade of pent-up need and affection to escape? He prided himself on suppressing . . . well, everything.

He hacked at the root of a particularly stubborn weed. He’d slipped and let his feelings come out, done the worst possible thing he could do. He swallowed, the self-disgust nearly choking him.

He had to apologize. He rested his rusted spade on the ground and glanced up at the window. She came into view, tying her hair up on top of her head, her round face in profile. Her lips were bare of lip gloss, and they were perfect, the bottom full and pouty, the top a sweet bow. She’d showered and changed as well, and her loose green shirt was the same color as the emerald dress she’d worn when he’d first seen her.

He’d apologize, and explain that it had been a onetime thing, a mistake. He’d offer to leave if she’d like him to.

She wouldn’t actually make him leave, right? She’d give him the benefit of the doubt.

He came to his feet, but stopped when he heard the sound of hooves from down the road. Why was Bikram here, when they’d only talked a few hours ago?

A flash of crimson came through the trees.

Oh no.

Another flash, and the shadow of a huge black stallion.

Oh no.

Had Bikram known? Surely he would have said something if he had.

The horse and rider emerged from the copse of trees. His grandpa came to a stop a few feet away, his devil horse’s feet kicking up in the air a little. The old man had always been a showboat, and he wasn’t becoming more discreet as he aged. His signature bright-red turban was the least dramatic thing about him.

Andrés Singh was locally and nationally known as the Peach Prince. Within the family, he was known as a tough son of a bitch. Jas had firsthand knowledge of how tough he could be.

The horse settled and Andrés lifted his chin at him, an action Jas immediately mirrored. They were similar in many ways: their thick eyebrows, their high cheekbones, their physique.

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