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With that in mind, he straightened and stepped away from them, the hand that had touched their feet now pressed to his chest, right above his rebellious heart.
His father frowned, his beetle brows furrowed. “Don’t embarrass us tonight.”
“I’ll do my best,” Harsh grinned, the same, irreverent grin he’d perfected in his teens.
His father snorted and walked past him towards the front door. His mother followed the patriarch of their family but paused for a second to say, “Don’t drink too much.”
“I’ll do my best,” Harsh said again.
Her eyes softened as she reached up to smoothen his artistically tousled hair. “Vedhava. Of all the scrapes you’ve gotten yourself into, this one is the worst. But we’ll make the best of it, okay?”
He nodded, his throat clogging with emotion. Make the best of it. Or maybe, it would best him.
With a last pat that completely ruined his hairstyle, she walked out with his father, their bodyguards falling in line behind them.
The rest of the group followed them but Harsh put a hand out and held Agastya back. Startled, Agastya stopped. When Veda turned to look at him, he gestured to her to go ahead. Her gaze darted between the brothers, but she nodded, shepherding the rest of the crowd out behind the parentals.
“Are you okay?” Agastya asked, concern darkening his eyes.
When Harsh didn’t immediately answer, Agastya’s hand reached out and gripped his shoulder.
Family, Harsh thought again. And this man, standing in front of him, was the only man who’d truly parented him. If there was any one in this world, he owed something to, it was his older brother.
Agastya had fought for him, defended him, stood between him and their father endlessly even when Harsh had returned his efforts with nothing but grief. He’d never stopped fighting for Harsh even when Harsh had stopped fighting for himself.
For the second time that night, Harsh bent at the waist, reaching to touch his elder brother’s feet. A sharp intake of breath was the only sound he heard before Agastya pressed his hand to the back of Harsh’s head before yanking him up and into a tight hug.
“I wish you a lifetime of happiness ahead,” Agastya said, his voice gruff with emotion. “Irrespective of the path that leads you to it.”
Harsh nodded, his throat too choked with emotion to get any words out.
Agastya gripped the back of his neck, hard. “You’re going to be fine,” he told Harsh. “Happy, successful, and peaceful. You are going to be absolutely fine.”
“Well,” Harsh said, dryly, finally finding his voice. “If Agastya Kodela decrees it, then even the Gods wouldn’t dare deny it.”
Agastya laughed, the sound suspiciously watery. “Let’s go before they send a search party out for us.”
They were halfway to the door when Agastya added, “And Harsh?”
Harsh glanced at his brother.
“If you want to run, I’ll have the car ready and waiting.”
“And if I want to stay?” Harsh asked, giving voice to a yearning that was taking root too deeply to unearth.
“You want to stay?” Agastya looked even more dumbfounded by the confession. “Really?”
Harsh wondered how much to say. In the end, he settled for, “She’s growing on me.”
Agastya smiled, a slow, warm smile. “Then I’ll parallel park the car and barricade the exit.”
Harsh gave him some side eye as they joined the others waiting for them outside. “Are you throwing shade on the fact that I can’t parallel park?”
“Those of us who can, do.” Agastya shrugged. “Those of us who can’t, should be grateful we can afford drivers.”
They were still laughing as they got into the cars waiting to take them to the venue for the cocktail party. For the first time in a long time, Harsh felt comfortable in his own skin.
Until the moment they reached the party and he saw Raashi waiting with her parents. She was wearing a wine-coloured sheath that fitted like a glove around her luscious curves, her hair teased into waves and resting on her shoulders. Her big, kohl lined eyes looked at him, an uncertain question lurking in them.
