Passion

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  “Hey,” he said and combed his fingers through his hair. “Can I buy you a burger?”

  “It’s late, but I’ll let you split a blueberry shake with me.” She stretched her arms out, and he turned to let her climb onto his back. “Tomorrow I’ll get up with you and fix up your face so you look like a million bucks.”

  “I don’t want you using my face to mess with your makeup.”

  “Trust me.”

  He turned his head slightly and vibrated as she rubbed her cheek against his. “Don’t worry about it. It’ll only melt off.”

  At the car Krista slid down and hugged him from behind. “I’m not sorry, you know. I’m not sorry for one damn minute. I just want you to know that.”

  Nicky grasped her wrists and held her against his back for a moment longer. He didn’t ask what she meant and she didn’t elaborate. She’d seen the apology haunting his eyes ever since they’d moved back to St. Paul.

  “One of these days I’ll get my shit together,” he said.

  Krista pressed her face between his shoulder blades and quietly laughed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere.”

  AN EASY GUY TO FALL ON

  Annabeth Leong

  Ina wouldn’t have gotten on the bus at all if not for the people behind her in line who pushed her forward. Inside, it was packed completely full, steamy with breath and body heat. The contrast from the freezing slush falling outside made her nauseous.

  Seeing a space open up ahead, Ina squeezed past people to get to it, lurching unsteadily as the bus began to move. She could already feel herself sweating under her clothes. She gripped a pole for balance and took a deep breath. The air felt a few degrees cooler in that spot, relieving her nausea just that crucial bit. She unzipped her jacket and sweater, still feeling she was about to choke in the stifling hot air.

  Ina peered out the foggy bus windows, trying to figure how she would know when she got to her stop. She’d moved to Boston just the week before, alone, in December, with no one to help her navigate the unfamiliar icy sidewalks as she made countless trips from her car to the cramped new apartment and back.

  She thought she should be used to unfamiliar places by now, but the misery of the morning commute washed her with loneliness so intense that she felt like a little girl again. Ina clutched the pole harder and focused on calming herself. She met the eyes of the man standing beside her. Ina remembered him boarding the bus at the same stop she had. She looked away quickly, ashamed of the tears welling up in her eyes, but soon found herself stealing quick glances in his direction.

  He was hot. He was nearly six feet tall, and his business attire enhanced his body’s toned, graceful lines. His thick, curly black hair was just shaggy enough to soften his serious appearance. He had warm brown eyes that sparked green from certain angles. His smooth, brown skin also seemed warm. He stood easily despite the bus’s uneven motion, not bothering to hold on to anything for support.

  Impossibly, more people got on the bus, forcing Ina to stand closer to the man. She smelled subtle, smoky citrus rising from his skin. Ina wanted to hear his voice.

  As she struggled to stay steady on the jerking, crowded bus, she imagined burying her face against his chest and holding on tight. She took a deep breath. She knew she was thinking this way because she was overwhelmed and scared.

  The bus driver slammed the brakes, flinging Ina forward. She saved herself by squeezing her hands around the pole and leaning backward. When the bus lurched just as suddenly back to full speed, she completely lost her balance, falling against the man she’d been watching, slamming the heel of her boot onto the toe of his shoe.

  “Sorry!” Ina yelped. “I’m so sorry!”

  His hands came around her waist as if the two of them were dancing. Holding her there until she got her feet firmly under her body, he guided her back to standing. He placed her body in a more stable position than she’d been able to find on her own. She could still feel the heat of his hands, which hovered nearby until he was certain she was steady.

  The rush of gratitude she already felt for the help and the comforting physical contact became lust when he flashed her a quick, sexy smile. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice was as light and smooth as his smell, his accent precise.

  Ina flipped her thick, brown hair out of her eyes and smiled back, hoping he liked her full lips and curvy figure. She leaned to look out the window again, wondering if he was watching her.

  “What are you looking for?” he said.

  “MIT.”

  “It’s the last stop.”

  She blushed.

  “Are you new in town?”

  Ina nodded. The bus lurched again, and the man reached out and steadied her, keeping his hands on her waist this time. She glanced at him, wanting to step back so that he could completely enfold her. He smiled apologetically, his grip loosening.

  “The bus isn’t always this bad. Everyone decides to take the T when the weather is miserable.”

  “Thanks,” Ina said. She meant it from the bottom of her heart, but he seemed to take it as a brush-off. He let go of her and became a stranger again.

  The next morning when Ina went out to wait for the bus, the man was waiting at her stop, finishing a donut and the last few sips of his morning coffee. They nodded at each other, but Ina wasn’t sure what to say to him. After a couple minutes of silence had passed, she felt she’d lost the opportunity to say anything.

  He rode the bus all the way to MIT each day. Sometimes, Ina would watch the back of his head for the entire ride, imagining what it would be like to run her hands through his coarse curls.

  In late February, they stood beside each other in a small crowd at the bus stop buffeted by a chill wind that ignored Ina’s jacket and broke straight through to her skin. Their usual bus was fifteen minutes late, and Ina’s fingers were tingling despite her gloves. She shoved her hands into her pockets and pulled her fingers out of the gloves and into fists, hoping that tucking her frozen digits against her palms would warm them.

  The man broke his usual stoicism, hopping in place a little and checking his watch. A few minutes more passed, and he turned to Ina. “Do you want to split a cab to Kendall Station?”

  She did a quick calculation of the cash in her purse and grinned. “Please.”

  He stepped to the edge of the sidewalk and stretched out his arm, and moments later they were alone together in the backseat of a taxi, with warm air blasting into their faces. Ina stowed her gloves and held her fingers up to the streams of air coming from the front seat.

  “How do you like Boston so far?” he said after a moment.

  “It’s good.” Ina gave him a strained smile. He shifted in his seat and seemed about to drop his efforts at conversation. “I never got your name,” Ina said desperately.

  “Saeed Qasim.”

  “I’m Ina Lopez.”

  He nodded. The Arabic name made her wonder whether she had any chance with him. Ina had heard about cultural obstacles, but everything she knew was vague and she didn’t think she could ask him now.

  “I think it’s strange to see the same people every day but never speak to them,” Ina managed, her face feeling hot. “You were sort of the first person I met in Boston, but I don’t know anything about you.”

  He smiled. “I work for the Cambridge office of a certain Internet search company,” he said. “I’ve lived in Boston for three years, but before that it was San Francisco. I went to Stanford. My parents are Saudi, but my family moved to the U.S. when I was twelve. I love zombie movies and cheap falafel.” His expression turned mischievous. “I’m a Sagittarius and I like long walks on the beach….”

  Ina blushed and slapped at his arm. He glanced at the spot where she’d touched him. Embarrassed, she rushed on with her own introduction. “I got my doctorate in mathematical and computational cognitive science at Purdue, but I moved here to continue my academic indentured servitude. I eat ramen about five times a week, and I have to buy my own health ins
urance. I can’t salsa dance, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.”

  Saeed laughed. The sound glowed with a note of delight that complemented his warm skin. “That’s not much of an advertisement. You should consult with my matchmaking aunts before posting anything on Craigslist.” His face took on a funny, pinched expression. “Excellent at quickly preparing frugal meals.”

  “The additional left foot adds stability,” Ina put in.

  “Yes, they would like that one.” There was a heavy pause between them as Saeed looked straight into her eyes. Ina thought he might use the opportunity to ask her out on a date. Then the moment passed, and the cab pulled up on Main Street in Cambridge. She paid her share of the fare and couldn’t think of any excuse to linger.

  She and Saeed again reverted to behaving as if they didn’t know each other. Ina had looked him up on Facebook but had decided against sending him a friend request.

  Spring came. Instead of taking the bus to MIT in the mornings, Ina walked into Cambridge to enjoy the air along the Charles River and the long-forgotten warmth of the sun.

  Then one evening, Saeed got on the same bus home that she did. She wondered why she’d never run into him traveling in this direction before. Their eyes met as he scanned for empty spots. Saeed half smiled, striding toward her past available seats in the front. But instead of sitting next to Ina, he took the seat across the aisle. Not for the first time, Ina wondered whether the attraction she felt was at all mutual.

  When the bus arrived at their stop, he got off just ahead of her. Something happened as he stepped onto the sidewalk, and Saeed went sprawling, the laptop case he’d been holding flying off his shoulder. Ina hurried down after him, grabbing the laptop and reaching out to help him up.

  He hesitated before accepting her hand. He steadied himself on it with light pressure as he rolled gracefully to his feet. “You at least had the excuse of a moving bus,” Saeed said, when she returned his laptop.

  Ina shrugged. “Not even you can be perfect, I guess. Are you all right?”

  Instead of answering, he stared down at her. Ina hoped her hair wasn’t sticking out all over the place. “Not even I can be perfect,” he repeated softly. “Why would I be perfect?”

  “I just meant, you know, you’re smart, you have a good job, you look great. Can’t get everything right.” Why did she spend half her time around this man blushing?

  “Thank you,” he said, his steady gaze not allowing her to make light of what she’d just confessed. His eyes looked green in the late evening sun. Saeed glanced up and down the street, as if afraid they were being watched. “Let me try to do one more thing right. Can I take you out to dinner?”

  Ina’s next breath in went to her head. She felt dizzy now that the moment had finally come.

  “If you don’t think it’s appropriate, I apologize,” Saeed said, his face already beginning to close.

  “No! I’d love to.” Ina touched his wrist. He looked at her fingers where they rested against his skin. Confused, she pulled back. Saeed paused, shook his head slightly and reached for her hand. His fingers were long and slender, his palm firm and smooth against hers.

  “Where would you like to go?”

  Ina finished the last sweet, creamy sip of her Thai iced tea, studying Saeed. He was brilliant, quick to understand the work she described and just as quick to make absurd jokes about it. The combination was all too rare. Mostly, she talked about her research with other postdocs, who were often too exhausted and impoverished to see humor in anything. And many men didn’t want to hear about her research at all.

  But Saeed was avoiding eye contact. They’d shared an appetizer of steamed vegetarian dumplings, and he’d reacted strangely the few times their hands had brushed in passing.

  Now he stared out the window as an uncomfortable silence built between them. “Everything all right?” Ina said, trying to keep her voice light.

  He turned his face forward and stretched his hands toward Ina’s on the table without actually touching her. “The real reason I tripped,” Saeed said abruptly. “I was angry at myself for walking away from you again. You haven’t been riding the bus in the mornings. I got on late this evening wondering if I might see you.”

  She smiled and closed the distance between them. Coaxing his hands open, she stroked the skin of his palm with a fingernail. His eyelids lowered, and she noticed how long, full and dark his eyelashes were. “I wanted you to ask me out that very first day,” Ina said.

  “I don’t… I haven’t… My parents think I’m going to let them arrange a marriage for me.” Ina’s finger froze and Saeed laughed, lifting her hand and kissing it. “Don’t worry,” he said. “That’s not going to happen.” His expression grew grave again. “But it does mean it’s not a small thing for me to be here with you.”

  Ina cocked her head at him. “Are you ready to get out of here? I live right around the corner. You could walk me home.”

  He nodded and went to the counter to pay. Ina felt another adrenaline rush. Tonight, she didn’t want to let him leave. She stood and met him at the door of the tiny restaurant. He seemed determined, almost grim, as he opened the door for her and took her hand again.

  The walk to her apartment was short, and they didn’t speak until they stood outside her building. Ina leaned against him suddenly, as if she’d been pushed. His arms came up around her shoulders and rested there. She pressed her cheek against the buttons of his shirt, inhaling the smoky citrus smell of him. “Do you want to come upstairs?” she whispered.

  She felt the shiver that passed through him at her words. Saeed touched Ina’s cheek with one hand then cupped her chin. He dipped his face down toward hers and pressed their lips together. Hot spices from dinner ignited a tingling burn across Ina’s lips and tongue as she opened her mouth to him. She reached up and buried her hand in his thick, black hair, pulling their bodies closer to each other.

  A little moan built in the back of Ina’s throat. Saeed let go and stepped back, his breath coming as fast and heavy as hers. In the porch shadows, Ina couldn’t read his expression.

  She retrieved her keys from her purse and led the way into the building and then her apartment. He reached for her as soon as she shut the door behind them, drowning her nervous apology for the mess against his soft, spicy lips. Ina closed her eyes. She wanted him so badly that her hands trembled.

  She untucked his shirt and slid her hands inside. His skin was smooth as his lips, but she felt the hard cords of muscle just underneath. Without breaking the kiss, he unbuttoned the shirt, allowing her to run her hands up his sides and onto his chest.

  As soon as his own shirt was loose, he turned to hers, pulling it up over her breasts along with her bra and hugging her tightly so that their skin met. His torso was almost hairless and deliciously warm against hers.

  Saeed stroked her back in long, firm passes. He brought his lips to her earlobe and the side of her neck. Ina found the thin trail of hair leading down below the waistband of his pants and rubbed it with her thumbs. He sucked at the base of her neck as she worked her way lower.

  Ina unfastened Saeed’s pants and reached into his boxers to take hold of his cock. Saeed let out a moan that was almost a sob and gripped her shoulders hard. She stroked her fingernail down his length then teased her way back up to the tip, listening with satisfaction to his long groan. Smiling, she pressed her face into his hair, sliding her lips close to his ear. “I have condoms in my bedroom.”

  “Ina,” he said brokenly. He took a deep breath and tried again, managing her name more steadily the second time. “Ina, do you always go this fast?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He pulled away from her. Seeing him half-dressed in the dim light coming in through the windows sent another surge of arousal through her body.

  “I didn’t think you would want it this way.”

  Ina tore her eyes from his body and looked up at his face. The anguish she saw there surprised her. “What’s wrong?”

&n
bsp; He looked out the window, tucking his swollen cock back into his boxers and fastening his pants. Saeed turned his back, and she saw his chest expanding and contracting as he struggled for control of his breathing.

  “You think I’m a slut,” Ina said. Her eyes stung. She slipped out of her tangled bra and pulled her shirt down.

  “No,” he said. “But I wasn’t expecting to treat you like one.” Saeed looked at her over his shoulder, reaching a hand back in her direction. Ina stared at it without moving. He sighed. “I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

  “Saeed. Why did you come up here?”

  “I wanted to touch you.”

  “Exactly.” She stepped closer. “That’s what I want, too. That doesn’t mean you’re treating me like a slut.” Ina touched his shoulder and he flinched.

  “I’ve got to go,” Saeed said. “I’m sorry.”

  Ina crossed her arms under her breasts. “Right.”

  The idea of facing Saeed was too humiliating the next day and the next. Ina chose to walk both to and from the lab, taking the shorter, less appealing route now for efficiency’s sake.

  Friday evening, it rained in the special New England way that rendered umbrellas completely useless. The wind drove the water droplets against her and tore at her umbrella until she gave up and closed it. Reluctantly, Ina went to take the bus.

  Saeed was there at the stop. His eyes opened wider when he saw her, and he seemed about to speak to her. This time, it was Ina who turned away, pretending to study the bus schedule tacked up behind a sheet of clear plastic in the inadequate shelter where they waited.

  She jumped when she felt his hand graze her elbow, so lightly it could barely be called a touch. “Ina, can I buy you a coffee when we get to our neighborhood?” His voice was so soft that she could hardly make out the words.

  She snapped hard eyes to his. “This didn’t go well last time, remember?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I at least owe you an explanation,” Saeed said.