A/N: If you stop reading or get bored at any point in the chapter/story, I'd love to know. Just a simple, 'Hey, this is where I stopped,' would do if nothing else so I can fix them before publishing next year. TYSM for your help. ❤❤

Avinash smelled the garlic-filled aroma of sekuwa roasting on a fire pit filling the air as they neared the town house. The chatter of strangers already greeting them as they approached the front porch of one of the duplex.

"Hmm. That smells good." He let Arushi ahead of him.

"Jackie's family owns one of the sekuwa houses in Nepal." Was her reply, as if that explained the mouth-watering scent in the air. Avinash had to give it to the guy. Even if he was a twit that broke Arushi's heart, the guy might know a thing or two about the Nepali barbeque.

As they trudged up a handful of steps towards the door, he placed a hand on the small of her back, like he would his actual girlfriend. "Before you ring the bell"—he watched her hand still on the doorbell. "What are our ground rules? What am I allowed to do or not do as your temporary boyfriend tonight? I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Ever."

If hearts could burst, he thought this would have been the perfect moment for his to do so.

#

Shashank hated the way Jun fussed with her dress, a pretty pale yellow cotton midi that ended mid-shin, as they climbed out of the taxi. Her hair was up in a messy bun, stray strands of loose curls framing her dewy face. Strands that screamed to be tucked behind her ears, just so he could lean close and smell her heavenly scent. Some floral perfume mixed in with a scent he couldn't place. Maybe it's her.

She'd faintly tinted her lips, matched the annoying flush of her cheeks. Her naturally long lashes looked curvier and thicker, and she blinked more than usual. A nervous habit, maybe, what with them standing before the apartment building where her ex lived.

It was entirely unhelpful—the way she looked tonight—to his dying cause of, 'I'm just here to help her out.' Who was he kidding? With each second in her presence, he wished this was real.

When Jun heaved a deep breath and headed for the front door, he held back, gripping the bag of sausages and drinks they'd brought with them. He hadn't been sure if this was a Nepali style barbeque where everything's sorted by the host, or if this was a more Aussie affair, where everyone brought a plate to share.

"Jun?"

"Yes?" She turned around with a flicker of a frown he wished to smooth out.

"It'll be alright." He smiled tightly, hoping she didn't pick up on his own discomfort. Here he was about to help the woman he wanted get her ex back. And she was looking devastatingly beautiful, not that he could say that to her. "Tell me the ground rules," he muttered instead.

"The ground rules?" She blinked at him with innocence and it made asking the next question harder.

"Tell me your boundaries. What am I allowed to do or not do with you tonight?" Shashank kicked a clump of grass, noting his leather shoes needed a polish. "We're about to walk in there and"—laughter and chatter of strangers from the balcony pulled his attention. It was easier to look anywhere but at her. He didn't want to see the indifference she felt towards him. Not tonight. Not tonight when somewhere in the back of his mind, he was pretending they were out on a real date because he'd finally asked her out, and not because she needed helping to win back some dolt's heart. She could have a bazillion other hearts—"other men" as Ma would say—lined up for her. Yet, here she was, chasing the one who left her for another girl?

Just get through tonight and tomorrow—you can tell her about your book, like Terry said. And hope she won't leave... because... because you like her...

"We're about to enter a houseful of people and pretend we're together. I need to know what I can and can't do as your 'boyfriend' for tonight. Whatever you want, I'll honour it." He peered into her face and saw realisation dawn. She hadn't thought about that at all—the boyfriend-girlfriend bit—and it gnawed at his heart some more. Did he really never cross her mind that way?

You can do this. You can pretend to be her boyfriend for one night...

"Right." She shifted her weight from one wedged heels to the other as two Nepali guys scrambled past them, a box of beer in hand, for the party no doubt.

"I can hold your hand when they open the door. Make sure they see it?" he suggested, once the coast was clear. "Would that be okay?"

Jun blinked at him once before nodding. "Yeah. That sounds fine."

"And..." He cleared his throat, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. He hated how difficult it was to ask her all this. It was all pretend to her, but for him, he knew he'd be storing that memory for his old age, when he can regret all the things in life he was too chicken to do—like kiss the girl he really wanted to kiss, tell her how she drove him mad, how she was all he could think about these days.

"Guys get jealous when they see their ex with a new guy." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "If you and I can stick together as much as possible tonight, like we can't get enough of each other, at least for a good hour—he'll be seething."

"Yeah. Yeah. That sounds like a plan." She nodded again. "What else?"

What else? How those two simple words had his heart galloping like a mustang.

"I could—" He pulled his collar subtly. Why had he dressed up in a dress shirt and chinos on such a warm night?

Am I sweating? Fuck, I hope I'm not sweating.

"I could touch your back lightly..." When Jun's brows knitted in confusion, he stepped forward, willing his hand not to shake, and placed it on the small of her back, barely daring to brush the fabric should he startle her or make her uncomfortable. "Like this." His breath hitched in his throat and his lungs burned. "Romance... or faking one, is all about body chemistry, how two people interact with one another verbally, or non-verbally—especially non-verbally—around one another. Things even other people can pick up on." He cleared his throat again, suddenly unable to string a coherent thought. "You want Ujjwal, or anyone tonight to notice it... It's uh—"

"Sexy?" she offered, peering up into his face.

"Yes. I suppose..." His hand, still on her back, itched to touch her beyond the smooth fabric. If the electricity shooting up his arm was something only he felt, he couldn't tell, because he was inches from her face. Their chest rose and fell against each other in the night's warm air, and he could have sworn she leaned in closer, closing what little gap was between them.

"Incredibly sexy." He slipped his hand off her back and took half a step away, already missing the way their bodies had brushed one another. But another second in her orbit and he would have answered the pull to kiss her. And where would that get him? Possibly a slap in the face. "There are other things I could do too, to amp it up. But it depends on what you're comfortable with—"

"Do it." She closed the gap again and peered up at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. "You're a romance writer. You breathe romance, love every day—Do what you have to. I trust you." She placed a hand on his chest, just where his heart was beating. "All I want is... Tonight, when we leave, I want to know he's regretting it, leaving me. I gave years of my life to him."

Years. Shashank stared at her hand on his chest. That lucky fucking bastard.

"You trust me?"

She nodded, the warmth of her hand seeping into his heart.

I'm the last person you should trust. Look at what I've done—and all I can think about right now is how much I want to kiss you—until you forget why we're even here.

"I may have to kiss you..." the words slipped from his lips in a whisper as glanced fleetingly at her plump, rosy lips. "Not on your lips, if that's not what you want, but I can—on your temple or head or hand—" He met her gaze, which danced over his face with a look he hadn't yet learned to decipher. "Unless you want me to?"

"If it helps—" She swallowed, her words almost imperceptible.

Fuck! His legs briefly felt weak at the knees. "You want me to kiss you?"

"If it helps," she repeated, a smile flickering at the corner of her lips. "I'm yours tonight. Remember?"

His stomach swooped at her words. His heart all but stopped beating. Mine. How he wished that was true.

"If it helps?" He leaned in without realising.

"Wooo!" someone hollered at them from a noisy balcony above and Shashank snapped to his senses. To onlookers, they probably looked like they were about to kiss. If only.

"You ready?" He peered up at the silhouettes cheering him on, clueless to their charade. When Jun nodded, he reached for her hand. "By the end of the night, if the guy doesn't beg you to take him back, I'll change my career."

I'll probably have to once I hand the story to you...

Jun knocked on the door, and it went flying open with a 'Keep your shoes on.'

With no more preamble, they headed towards the bustling backyard of the townhouse, packed with big and small bodies, men and women, and the mouthwatering smell of sekuwa, Jun's hand in his tugging at his heart with earnest.

You can do this. Make the most of tonight...

As soon as the huddle of people came into view, Jun's grip on his hand tightened, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze in return. I got you.

He leaned in and kissed her temple, whispering in her ear, "Go. Take us to him. This is your night," already playing the part of a smitten boyfriend, should anyone be looking. A nervous smile fluttered on her lips before she was pulling him through the crowded backyard, towards the man responsible for the smell and the love-hate situation Shashank found himself in. Ujjwal. The ex.

He tried to pretend for his own sanity that Jun possessively tugging him towards their target was because she was eager to introduce him, her boyfriend. It was a dangerous thing to do, pretend this was real, but it was the only way he knew he could get through it.

"Junkiri!" a pretty little woman by the two white trestle tables beside the small barbeque, fixing platters of food, cried out. "You came! See Ujjwal. I told him you'd come. And you brought your boyfriend."

"Shashank." Shashank offered his hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Preeti." The woman practically threw her hand into his and smiled from ear to ear.

"Beautiful, just like your name." He smiled and holding out the bag of food they'd brought, noticing Preeti's cheeks flush a shade of pink. "I hope you don't mind. Something simple share garna."

"Thank you." She tucked her hair behind her ears and batted her eyelashes at him despite Jun standing beside him, before glimpsing inside the bag.

Shashank guessed his looks had something to do with it. He wasn't what one would call a typical Nepali. For one, he was fairly tall, easily one of the tallest man there tonight, and it didn't help that he'd inherited his grandfather's green eyes, though he could have sworn he remembered them being brown. But not according to Ma. And then there was the lighter skin, thanks to the fact that he rarely saw any sunlight. It was why Terry often encouraged him to do book signing—not the Vitamin D deficit thing, but the 'You're an eye candy' thing. He was used to catering to the masses of young women who often lined up, just to glimpse the famously cagey author a handful of times a year and no photography allowed, not of him directly.

"Drink lyau for you both?" Ujjwal, who'd been standing there quietly observing the exchange, suddenly said, a sour look on his face. It had begun. The Sting Operation.

"I'll have a beer." Shashank tried not to smile too obviously and pulled Jun into his arm, not only to make the man jealous, but a gust of wind had caused Jun to shiver beside him. One look told him goosebumps pricked her bare skin.

"So, you all go to the same college with my Juney?" He rubbed Jun's arm up and down with his warm hands, aware of her body flush against his side and how Ujjwal had glowered momentarily at their skin on skin contact.

The man gave a terse nod and turned to grab their drinks from the table behind him, but his girlfriend answered, "We're a batch above Junkiri. You? Is that how you meet?"

"Oh, no." Shashank laughed, pulling Jun wholly into his arms next and enveloping her as the wind picked up. "I haven't set foot in a college or uni in over a decade and I don't plan to, unless they invite me for talks, of course, and pay me."

"Oh." Preeti scrunched up her brows in confusion. "So, how did you two meet? Were you giving one of your talks at our college?"

"Beer." Ujjwal interrupted, holding out an already opened beer to Shashank, then passed a cocktail he'd mocked up to Jun, careful not to spill it. "You still like a good Margarita, hoina Juney?"

The look he threw Shashank had him wanting to slap the drink out of the guy's hand, instead he leaned forward before Jun could try it and stole a sip. Some of the drink spilled onto her fingers, and he grabbed them too, quickly licking it and moaning appreciatively, before turning his charming smile on the man as if awed. "Hmm... not bad. You're a trained mixologist." A strange giddiness danced in his tummy as he noted Jun chuckled nervously beside him, drawing her hand back to hug her drink with both hands, then taking a sip from the jutho glass without making a fuss.

For a moment there, panic had hitched up his throat. What if she doesn't do other people's jutho?

"Ujjwal works at a little bar in town." Preeti smacked her boyfriend's arm proudly before turning back to him. "So what is it you do, Shashank? If you don't study?"

Normally loathed to tell fellow Nepali he's a 'writer' only to have to clarify 'I'm a romance writer' and garner dull stares, Shashank took one look at Jun and said, "Nothing fancy... I'm just a novelist."

"A novelist?" The woman's brows rose in awe, while her boyfriend's knotted in disbelief.

If Preeti assumed he was some serious non-fiction writer who spent his days fashioning text books, her next question would likely be, 'What do you write?' Shashank had rarely met a fellow Nepali who read just for fun and read fiction at that. Or maybe that was just his circle of family and distant relatives and friends, but still. But tonight, there was no room for shyness. He had to make an impression that lasted. He had to whisk Jun away tonight in such a way that tongues wagged long after their departure and certain hearts longed for his 'beau'.

"I write romance, actually." He sipped of his beer, casually kissing Jun's temple before lowering his arm to her waist. He didn't want to risk making her uncomfortable with all the touching so early in the night.

"Romance?" It wasn't Preeti who asked, but Ujjwal and several heads turned and chatter died around Shashank as if he'd said something obnoxious, like 'Let's play strip poker.'

"You write romance, like Hindi films?" someone else asked from the crowd.

"Well. No. I write books. Fairly well-known books—"

"What kind of romance?" another woman asked.

Suddenly, it was the women who turned and drank him in hungrily that he suddenly had the thought that this was yet another wine and dine signing sessions for his books. He knew those roving eyes very well. They scanned him from head to toe and sprang back to linger on his green eyes, framed by thick lashes. Lashes Jyo had always been envious of.

"The happily ever after kind." Jun stiffened beside him, and Shashank swept Jun into his arms, much to protect her than display her, and winked at the crowd quickly gathering around them. His wildest smile on show.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, peering up at him from the thicket of her lashes.

Kiss her, while they are all looking. Kiss her like you can't resist her. Just a quick peck.

His stomach swooped dangerously, and before he lost his nerve, he did exactly that. He quickly pecked her on the lips and whispered, "Trust me," before dazzling the crowd with his wildest smiles, already accepting that at the end of the night, he was going to be more drained than his regular signings.

Terry will probably kill me if word gets out, but... I promised I'm here for you tonight.

He squeezed Jun protectively in his arms.

Promised you by the end of the night, Ujjwal will beg you to take him back? Well, this was how I'm doing it.

If there was anything Shashank had learned in his years as a writer, it was that people inherently found any and all celebrity 'sexy'. Now, a celebrity at a party, stealing the show and lavishing one's ex girlfriend with a whole lot of PDAs? Call him kerosene and light that damn fire. There was no better way than this to ensure Jun got what she wanted, even if it was a thousand acupuncture needles straight to his own damn heart.

He could imagine Jyo rallying in his head—Channel those damn bastards, Shashi. You got this!

And that was that. Before he knew it, an hour had passed. He'd already answered what felt like a thousand questions. They'd moved into the house by now, on the part that Jun was cold and he, playing her caring boyfriend, had suggested they go inside. They'd someone ended up in the lounge room, him and Jun on the couch, flanked by women who'd suddenly forgotten all about their boys and their food. Now and then, a familiar sour face loomed at the door, calling his girlfriend with any excuse while throwing Jun longing looks when he thought Shashank was too busy addressing his adoring 'fans'. He wasn't. If anyone in that room was aware of how much Ujjwal stared daggers at him and pinned after Jun, it was him, and every time it made Shashank want to shield Jun with his body, or envelope her in his arms and whisper sweet nothings to distract her from looking back.

A thousand daggers. Those looks were a thousand daggers.

But they were nothing compared to her own furtive glances at the empty doorway now and again.

"So how much does a writer make?" One girl, who barely looked eighteen, sipped her beer and peered at him from the carpet where she sat.

"Really depends. But I do alright." He rose, partly to stretch and partly to block Jun from Ujjwal, when he suddenly popped back in again and said, "Food's ready."

Once outside, Shashank slid in behind Jun, lining up to grab food. She seemed lost in a cloud of thoughts, and he leaned in. "A penny for your thoughts, madam."

"What?" Jun whipped her head around, almost smacking into his.

"You." He peered into her eyes, unsure what to make of the dark look that passed through her eyes then. Whatever he was about to say, it went out his brain and for a moment he wasn't sure he was still playing the part of a smitten boyfriend or if he was letting the booze speak truths he normally wouldn't, not while forty ravenous strangers pressed in against them. "You are beautiful, you know that?"

Tomorrow, they'd wake up and go back to being flatmates. Doubtful she'd ever ask him to be her stand-in boyfriend. So he leaned in closer. "I'm going to kiss you properly," he whispered, seeking privacy even in that crowd. "Before the night ends."

"You are?" Her eyes danced against his face, a glimmer of excitement flashing in her eyes. Or was he imagining it?

"When he's looking." He nodded, his heart thundering in his ear, enough to drown out the crowd. "You can slap me after we're home, but you gotta kiss me back. Okay?" His gaze flickered towards Ujjwal at the barbeque, chatting away with a couple of other guys.

And that was all Shashank could think about for the rest of the evening. About the kiss. It was for the show; he convinced himself. To make the guy jealous. But there was also no denying that a part of him was dying to pull her in for that promised kiss every time he looked at her, every time he caught her nervous gaze, or saw her chew her lips with worry, or a faint frown etched lines between her brows. Every time he touched her, be it their arms brushing each other, or him holding her hands, or resting his palm on her shoulder, or tucking an errant strand of hair out of her face—all for show—he was dying inside, dying because the longer this charade went on the deeper he was drowning in want. He wanted to kiss her silly; kiss her till he could say, "Jun, go out with me, for real."

When the opportunity finally presented itself, close to midnight, they were all packed inside, in the open kitchen-lounge area and were playing a real life game of dum-charad, which he figured was just Charade with 'dumb' added at the front when it began.

Since he hadn't known what 'dum-charad' was, he'd tucked the two of them at the back, behind the dining table, and against the window ledge wide enough to sit on. It was there that he'd pulled Jun against his lap, all for show. She fidgeted with his interlocked fingers in front of her stomach as she watched the game. Four-five teams of five-six people, yelling out answers as a person pantomimed in front of them. Whether her nerve was from watching the game, gazing occasionally at her ex, or if it was the proximity to his body, he hated she was on edge.

To ease her a little, rubbed his thumb along the ridge of her hand—It's okay, I'm here, I got you...We're almost done—and bid his time. Any minute now, the person he'd been waiting for would get his turn to mime, right in line of them and that's when he'd do it, kiss the girl he'd been dying to kiss all night long, though it felt like he'd been waiting for this his entire life.

When Ujjwal got up to pick out a chit from the big ceramic bowl and turned to face the crowd, his gaze finding the two of them without an issue, Shashank's heart galloped in his chest and he leaned, his lips feathering Jun's ears. "I need you to look at me now."

Jun turned and peered into his face. A fleeting anticipation glimmering in her big brown eyes.

"I made a promise" so God help me. A smile twitched on his face and he gently cupped her soft face with his hand, his thumb whisking the edge of her lips. "You truly are beautiful." With that, he slid his hand behind her head and gently brought her lips to his.

Jun tensed in his lap, her hand stilling on his other where she'd been fidgeting.

"Relax. He's looking," he said against her lips, feeling a burst of fireworks let loose in his stomach. This was gonna hurt later, he was sure, but for now, Jun was in his arms, and the world was drowning out.

"For show." He felt her give a faint nod before he gently teased her lips with his tongue and, to his surprise, she responded. She opened her mouth and returned the kiss, allowing him to kiss her as deeply as he wished, for as long as he wished—though he was aware they were among a Nepali crowd and he couldn't take this as far as he might like.

After a breath or two, he pecked her lips for good measure and settled her back on his lip, feeling his pulse thundering in his ear and against the skin of his hands, hands she was lacing her fingers with. Act or not, the moment Junkiri Baral had kissed him back—even if it was for show—she'd unspooled him like a bundle of yarn. Shashank spent the next few minutes gathering his wits, searing this moment in his memories like a damn tattoo. For all he knew, this was the first and the last time he'd ever get to kiss the girl he could imagine spending the rest of his life with, getting to know her, know her likes and dislikes, and what made her tick. What made her laugh at the silliest of jokes, yet take offence at less than serious ones? And he had no one else to blame for his mistakes.

If he'd only listened to Jyo and asked her out weeks ago. Weeks ago, when he hadn't fallen so hard in love. And now, he sat there, with the woman who'd someone removed the cobwebs from his shrivelled heart and brought him back to life, and she was already slipping from his grasp like sand.

I can't write about this. I can't write about her—tomorrow she's going back to him—he eyed Ujjwal, throwing his arms out like some tool and grinning.

"DDLJ!" Jun suddenly shot up from his lap and screamed.

And for a moment, Shashank saw it, the moment they both knew what had happened tonight, Jun and her ex. They both saw it, and so did the rest of the group.

"It's DDLJ," Jun whispered again.

Ujjwal nodded, eyes only for her.

From the corner of his eyes, Shashank saw poor Preeti register what was transpiring and his heart broke for the poor girl. If anyone here knew what it was like to watch someone you liked, someone you hoped would one day be your world fall for someone else, it was him.

Come tomorrow, Jun was going to slip away from his reach, maybe permanently. He could see it in the way Ujjwal was staring at them now, at her. He'd kept his promise. Jun was about to get her wish.

I have to tell her what I've done and ask for forgiveness before she leaves me.

He drew his hands back before he could touch her again.

"I'm going to go get another drink." He drew up to his feet, needing something more than alcohol to drown out the rather self-inflicted pain. 

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