and realities.
What was he saying? If he played this Pritam role, we could flirt as if we were strangers and—oh, God, maybe even have sex—without jeopardizing our relationship back home? My breathing quickened. “You mean, afterward it’d be as if Pritam never existed? We—Kat and Nav—go back to being good friends as if…as if Nav had never left Montreal?”
He swallowed. “Do you like that idea?”
It was crazy.
But tempting. Because he was Nav, I could trust him. But with the “stranger,” Pritam, I could let go, give in to the powerful attraction I felt.
I could satisfy my curiosity. The sexual curiosity I’d felt since the day I’d first seen Nav in the hallway, eyes sparkling, muscular brown arms clasping an elephant. When I’d begun to flirt with him before Jase Jackson had come along and I’d remembered I was in love with him.
Nav and I could even, if we wanted, be lovers in an anonymous hotel room in Toronto and not jeopardize our friendship. If I could buy into this game and pretend he was a sexy stranger named Pritam.
His face was all lean, unfamiliar angles, his eyes dark with a determination and challenge I’d never seen before. A very male and very appealing one.
“Who do you want to sit beside on this journey to Toronto?” he asked. “Nav or Pritam?”
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