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Penguin Books Ltd - Durjoy Datta

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119 pages

English

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Would you change yourself for the love of your life? Benoy zips around in a Bentley, lives alone in a palatial house and is every girl s dream. To everyone in college he is a stud and a heartbreaker. But is he, really? What no one sees is his struggle to come to terms with his mother s untimely death and his very strained relationship with his father. Then once again his world turns upside down when he sees the gorgeous Shaina. He instantly falls in love but she keeps pushing him away. What is stopping them from having their fairy-tale romance? What is Shaina hiding? It s time Benoy learned his lesson about love and relationships . . .

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Romance

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Publié par	Penguin Books Ltd
Date de parution	15 septembre 2013
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9789351182962
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0350€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Durjoy Datta Orvana Ghai

YOU WERE MY CRUSH
Till You Said You Love Me!
Contents
About the Author
Also by Durjoy Datta
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Follow Penguin
Copyright Page
PENGUIN METRO READS
YOU WERE MY CRUSH
DURJOY DATTA was born and brought up in New Delhi. He completed a degree in engineering and business management before embarking on a writing career. His first book, Of Course I Love You , was published when he was twenty-one years old and was an instant bestseller. His successive novels- Now That You re Rich , She Broke Up, I Didn t!, Oh Yes, I Am Single!, If It s Not Forever , Someone Like You -have also found prominence on various bestseller lists, making him one of the highest-selling authors in India. Durjoy lives in New Delhi, loves dogs and is an active CrossFitter.
For more updates, you can follow him on Facebook ( www.facebook.com/durjoydatta1 ) or Twitter (@durjoydatta).
ORVANA GHAI was born in New Delhi. She is a postgraduate in marketing from University of Westminster, London. She has worked with international fashion labels, event management companies and NGOs in the past. She loves to dance and holds diplomas in various dance forms. This is her first book.
To know more about her follow her on Facebook.
Also by Durjoy Datta
Hold My Hand
She Broke Up, I Didn t!
I Just Kissed Someone Else!
Till the Last Breath
Of Course I Love You
Till I Find Someone Better
(With Maanvi Ahuja)
Oh Yes, I m Single!
And So Is My Girlfriend!
(With Neeti Rustagi)
Now That You re Rich
Let s Fall in Love!
(With Maanvi Ahuja)
Someone Like You
(With Nikita Singh)
If It s Not Forever
It s Not Love
(With Nikita Singh)
To the coolest brother anyone could ever have. Benoy, this is for you!
Chapter One
Ever seen the guy who drives like a maniac in a ridiculously big car? The guy with the powerful dad? The big house? Well, I am that guy.
Benoy Roy.
I am not flashy, but I have a big car and a big house, and there is no hiding that. But yes, I do not look rich. I stand five feet and ten inches tall and look like someone you would miss on a busy road. Wheatish complexion, slim, with short, neat hair-that is what my matrimonial ad would read like. Often, I have heard people say, He does not look that rich . I do not blame them; I was never impressed by what I saw in the mirror either.
Well, it was another morning for me. I was in no hurry again. Life was awesome. I did not have to worry about the early morning lecture, shouting professors or pending assignments.
My head did not hurt even though I was sure I had got sloshed the night before, since I was on the couch and not on my bed where I should have been! I was still in the clothes I had worn the previous night to the club.
I must have passed out , I thought.
These nights of excessive drinking, blackouts and bad hangovers were becoming a routine. This is the last time I am drinking , I said to myself. I was lying. I tried to remember why I had not gone up to my bedroom and slept, but I really could not. I tried to recall the girl I had danced with the previous night, but I could not remember that clearly either. I remembered the name though. Palak . I smiled. She was pretty, and Deb had introduced me to her.
As I heated the coffee and poured it into a cup, my phone rang. It was Eshaan and he asked me the same question that he did every day. Was I going to college that day? No, I was not! I didn t have a hangover but I did not want to spoil that day sitting on those broken benches, beneath the creaky fans. Moreover, three back-to-back lectures were not my thing! Just as I switched on the television, the door was flung wide open. It was the maid. I looked at her, and she smiled. She had the newspaper in her hand; she kept it on the table. Though the house was pretty big, I lived alone and so never had much work for her to do.
Benoy? What is in the sink? she asked, disgusted.
What? I asked as I entered the kitchen.
Come and see for yourself. She had covered her face with her pallu.
I walked up to the sink and a pungent smell hit my nose. I looked at it and it almost made me puke. It was filthy and it smelled worse than a dead rat.
Damn it .
Babu, you drank too much last night? she said in a muffled tone from behind the pallu.
I guess so.
I asked her to go and shop for vegetables; I told her I would take care of it by the time she came back. She grabbed the shopping bag and left the house as soon as possible. I stood there for a while, disgusted at what I had done. This was new. I used to black out, but I never used to puke. The drainpipe was blocked and I thought, Why don t they just make bigger drainpipes?
Because people are meant to puke in toilets, dumbass , a voice in my head said.
I did not waste any more time. I wrapped a handkerchief around my face and got to work with a plunger and that day s newspaper in my hand. Fifteen stinking minutes later, the sink sparkled and I stank.
I am never drinking again! Definitely! I said to myself as I entered the shower.
I loved the shower area. It was the second-best place after the gym I had set up a couple of months back. It cost me well, I do not know how much, for my father paid for it. All I know is that I loved it. Meanwhile, the maid was back and she had started to cook.
Aunty! A little less oil, I shouted out as I came down the stairs.
Babu, where will you get the strength? And stop drinking so much, babu. It s not good for you, she shouted back.
Just as I flopped on the couch, the doorbell rang.
Who s it? I shouted from where I was sitting. The door was being banged now. Harder .
FINE!
Deb? I exclaimed. Debashish was my cousin, five years older than me. He had turned twenty-five just the day before, and it was his party last night. LAST. DRINKING. NIGHT. EVER.
Fuck you, Benoy, he said, and he looked pissed. Where have you been? I have been calling you for the last twenty minutes. Anyway, where is Palak?
Palak?
Benoy? I don t have time for this. Her mom has been calling me since the morning; she s freaking out. Where is she?
I don t know what you re talking about, Deb!
What? You left with her last night. Don t you fucking remember ?
He started looking everywhere and I followed him around; he was clearly freaking out and was out of his goddamn mind.
No! I do not, I insisted.
Did you guys come home? You said you would drop her at her friend s place?
Deb s phone was ringing constantly.
I don t remember, Deb. All I remember is that we were there in the club and you guys were there too, and then I woke up on this couch. That s it!
You were on the couch? Then where the hell is she? he demanded and sprinted up the stairs. I still had no clue as to what was happening.
PALAK? he shouted and entered the bedroom.
As I followed him into my bedroom, and tried to remember the sequence of events from the previous night, I saw him bent over an unconscious girl who lay on the side of my bed. Palak! We both helped her sit up on the bed. She was still falling all over us and she stank of beer.
Huh? Palak looked up, still not in her senses.
PALAK. Wake up! Deb said. Your mom called me up. She wants to know where you are. Where is your phone? Deb kept repeating these sentences.
Benoy? Don t just stand there. Get her some water!
Fine, I said and sprinted downstairs.
As I came back upstairs, I saw Palak mumble something. I was in a state of mild shock! I really had not expected this , even from myself. I had no memory of getting a girl home. It was not really the first time though, but usually I remember.
Where is my phone? What did Mom say? Is she angry? Does he know? Did he call? she asked a million questions. I tried to avoid her gaze as I looked for a room freshener. She stank .
She was freaking out, and she held her head. I stood there wondering whether it was in regret or if it was the hangover. I wanted to ask her, but I thought it would be better to let Deb handle it. He had been in a relationship for over five years now. He had more experience in handling crying females than me.
Relax, Palak, don t cry. I told your mom that you were with Avantika. And that you re fine. You really don t remember where your phone is? he asked her.
She shook her head and tears streamed down her cheeks in full flow. Thank God for Deb!
Okay, just go wash your face and then I will drop you home, Deb said to her and she left.
Benoy? Are you CRAZY? Deb almost shouted.
What, Dada? She is your friend not mine. I can t help it if she is crazy.
She is not supposed to be here. You got her here. You are the one who is crazy, not her. And what would I say to Avantika? You have screwed me, man!
Why are you so afraid of Avantika? I asked.
I am not. I just like not to screw up things with her, Deb said.
Whatever, I am sorry, I said. Do you want me to drop her home?
No, I will do it. Anyway, how is your hangover? Better? he asked, concerned. I nodded; he was my brother after all. He even looked like me. He was just a shade shorter than me, but he never agreed on that. We weren t the best-looking people in the world, but we had something in common-a dimple , a facial deformity, and it was probably the only go