Outside

"Go see Mira Aunty off," Ma told me, her voice clipped but the anger clearly gone.

I practically leaped at the chance to escape. I smiled in genuine relief and walked her to the front door. We stepped out onto the porch, the air cooling as dusk settled in. The second my front door clicked shut behind us, Mira Aunty turned. The neighborly smile was gone, replaced by a sly, knowing grin.

"You know," she said, her voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur, "I felt you sniffing me back there. When I hugged you."

My blood ran hot and pooled straight in my face. I must have looked like a tomato. "What? No, Aunty. I wasn't—"

"Don't lie, Arvind," she cut me off, her laugh soft but sharp. "I felt it. You took a nice, long sniff. Right against my neck."

I opened my mouth and closed it again, utterly busted. She knew. She stepped closer then, bridging the gap between us on the small porch. Her eyes glittered in the dim light, and her voice dropped even lower, just for me.

"It's fine," she murmured. She glanced down at her own chest, at the workout top still damp and clinging to her. "What woman, old or not, doesn't like knowing a handsome young man finds her... attractive?"

"You're not old, Aunty," I said, the words rushing out. "You... you look amazing. Better than any girl at my school."

She let out a full, throaty laugh, tilting her head back. The sound was rich and confident. "Flatterer. You're a cheeky boy, Arvind."

I grinned, emboldened by her reaction. The flush on my face was still there, but it felt different now. Less embarrassment, more... something else.

"But," she said, taking another half-step. She was so close I could smell that same scent again. "Your cheekiness won't get you out of returning today's favor."

My grin wavered. "Of course, Aunty. Anything. Whatever you need."

"Good," she said, her smile returning, sharp and satisfied. "I need your help this Sunday. Sunil's out of town, and I'm doing some deep cleaning. I need someone strong... to help me move some heavy furniture around."

"Sure," I said immediately. "No problem. I'll come by in the morning."

"Not too early," she said, that teasing smile back in full ****. "I like to sleep in on Sundays. Come around... ten. Is that okay?"

"Ten is perfect."

She reached up and cupped my cheek. Her palm was warm and slightly damp. It wasn't a pat; she held it there, her thumb rubbing just once against my skin. "You're a good boy, Arvind. I knew I could count on you."

I had to swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "Anytime, Aunty."

She smiled, a final, slow smile, and dropped her hand. She turned and walked down the porch steps. Halfway to her own gate, she looked back over her shoulder.

"Oh, and Arvind? Wear something comfortable. Something you don't mind getting... dirty." She paused, letting the word hang in the air. "We're going to be working very hard."

"I will," I called out, my voice sounding a little hoarse.

She gave me one last, deliberate wink and disappeared into her house. I stood on the porch for a long minute, my heart hammering for a completely new reason. I felt confused, flushed, and way, way too warm.