I lean against one of the concrete pillars in the parking area of my parents' apartment building. The warm air, the dark green of the potted plants, and soft humidity in the air are a stark contrast to the dry wintery grey I left behind in New York City. My phone beeps and I check it.
-A minute away-
I smile, curious about what it might be like to spend some time with Janvi, who's offered to pick me up and take me shopping.
A silver car with tinted windows slides into the apartment driveway and pulls up next to me.
"Hey," Janvi says, as her tinted window drops down to reveal her stunning smile. Her diamond nose ring glints in the sun.
"Thanks for picking me up," I say, as I open the passenger door to get in. She looks gorgeous in an abstract patterned short dress, that highlights her sculpted calves. She's perched a little comically on a pillow -- short girl problems, I can relate.
"What's all this thank you? It's not a problem." She says, as she puts the car in reverse.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere that will highlight your gorgeousness even more," she says, careening into the multirows of traffic. I soak in the compliment and feel the heat rise just a little in this air-conditioned car.
"I have every reason to trust your taste," I say smiling, gently dancing along that line of dialogue that straight girls do but when you do with queers, just feels so deliciously different. And though I have no clear confirmation, this dialogue feels different.
Janvi swears as someone cuts her off and then continues, "Payal and I work with a designer who I think you'll love. She has a store in the center of the city, but I want to take you to her warehouse. Quieter, more selection, and they have a couple of dressing rooms."
"That sounds perfect." The air-conditioning is on full blast, which means all I can smell is Janvi's citrusy perfume and my own smokey one. I look over to her and take in her smooth legs - I don't move on married people -- that said, I didn't mind looking at and appreciating her.
I smile and lean back into my seat, loving the cacophony of traffic around us and the view I have.
*********
The beautiful clothes murmur against my hand as I brush against the jeweled silks next to the printed cotton next to the mixed-fabric pieces. IIn my focus, I unintentionally briefly brush Janvi's hand who is also browsing with me.
We catch each other's eyes, and hold our gaze a second too long. The soft curiosity and possible sexual tension from the car continue into the warehouse, and I realize I might be standing too close to the fire.
We're interrupted by Janvi's designer friend Hina who whisks Janvi away for some catch up while I continue to look at her creations. Each piece is purposeful, sensual. Janvi was right, I loved it.
When growing up, this brand with all of its intricately designed clothes would have been absolutely out of my price-range. Now, it's a different story. I pick a few interesting pieces, and look for signs for the dressing room.
"It's all the way in the back, I'll come with you," Janvi calls out to me.
"I'll be in the office doing some paperwork. Call if you need anything, okay?"
"Thanks so much, Hina," I say, "I think we'll be okay."
"Are you going to get anything?" I ask Janvi as she joins me.
"I asked Hina to set aside a few pieces for me earlier."
We both walk back to the dressing room, our heels beating a rhythm onto the concrete floor.
*********
"Can I come in?"
I let Janvi in and she shuts the door behind her. She's still in her dress and hadn't changed.
"This choli-pant set looks fab on you," she says, her kajal-lined eyes sparkling. Her soft fingers leave trails of goosebumps along my bare skin as she circles my waist before pausing just under my belly button.
"You're not straight, are you?" I laugh.
"You're not straight, are you?" She mirrors, answering my now rhetorical question with a smile. In this small room, her dark lips almost touch mine. I'm mesmerized as I watch her tease me, my hands aching to touch her lips.
I gently move her hand away from my skin.
"Janvi, you're gorgeous. I don't do the affair person thing though." I can feel my veneer of an ethical slut cracking fast, as I take in her beautiful sharp eyes, her long lashes, her button nose.
"We're in an open marriage, Aisha. Kunal knows. Don't you have those in New York City?"
She can probably sense my desire - to kiss someone who sounds like home, who knows the taste of curry leaves and mysore pak, who knows things about being queer, home, and female in a way that no female lover in New York could ever know.
"New York has a lot of things," I say verbally pulling back, as I physically land my fingertips on her jaw. Her skin is soft, a rich dark brown. "What do you mean he knows?"
"He knows I'm interested, he's interested in you too. We've done this for a while and have had other lovers separately or together." I flashback to Kunal's glimmer of appreciation which now takes on a new meaning.
"I just want to make sure he knows and he's on board."
"Yeah, he is. We talked about it the night after you left and he is, as you say 'on board'." She moves in closer, her breasts touching mine, her breath soft and minty. "I know I want this. Do you?"
I file away Kunal's interest in me, my focus on the stunning woman in front of me. My fingers move from Janvi's jaw to her soft full lips. She moans and I feel the rhythm of her breath on my fingertips.
We move quick, my tongue tasting the mint of her breath as our hands running over each other's bodies. Janvi's hands slip under the top of my choli and finds my nipple.
