“Isaac.”
He felt a stab of pain between his shoulder blades and the air expelled from his lungs. He prayed that he didn’t hit the floor like a bag of cement. It took him a moment to recover.
He turned slowly. “Mohammed.” His cheeks hurt from over smiling. “Nice to see you again.”
“I didn’t know you work here. I come here all the time and never see you.”
“Yes. For years now.”
“That’s why you always look so well dressed.”
Emma’s attention volleyed between the two until her gaze came to rest on Mohammed. “How do you know each other?”
“School,” Mohammed answered. “We have a class together.”
She turned to Isaac. “How nice. So, you must’ve ignored your girlfriend all last week during midterms too.”
“Not exactly,” Isaac said, keeping his gaze directly on Emma. He was afraid to look in Mohammed’s chocolate-brown eyes. He was flustered enough.
“No,” Emma said, “you don’t seem the type who would do that to your girlfriend. You have a sweet face.”
Tossing his arm over Emma’s shoulders and tucking her slight frame against his muscular body, Mohammed said, “What are you saying? That my face looks mean?” He waggled his brows playfully as she arched her neck to look up at him. Her laugh was girlish, and Isaac noticed the apples of her cheeks color. At that moment, he hated her. Isaac wanted to be the one who received Mohammed’s affection.
“From where I’m standing,” Isaac said, “he has a very handsome face.”
A look passed over Emma as she agreed with Isaac. Did she think his comment was strange or unnecessary? Isaac wondered. Or did she simply not expect one from him at all? Isaac didn’t know, but he wanted the flippant, yet intentional comment to place a seed of doubt in her mind about her boyfriend’s sexuality, or at the least, his.
“He knows I wouldn’t love any other,” she said.
Mohammed released his hold on her. “Go pick me out a few more things. How about over there,” he indicated with a tilt of his chin to the farthest part of the store where the new shipment of sweaters was being displayed. “I heard that there’s a cold front coming through next week and my only sweater’s now a smorgasbord for moths.” He sent her off with a swat on the ass.
When Emma was safely out of earshot, Mohammed said, “Thanks for not saying anything. It would’ve proved uncomfortable.”
“For who?”
“You mostly, since I would’ve denied any of your accusations.”
“Accusations?” Isaac didn’t mean to say it so harshly. “Last night and this morning happened.”
“I know they did, but she doesn’t need to know. What good would come of it anyway?”
“Guess you haven’t heard the saying, the truth shall set you free?”
“Free from what? Emma loves me, and that is the truth.” His dark eyes burned with intensity and his jaw pulsed under tanned skin.
Isaac was taking pleasure seeing Mohammed struggle to keep his anger from getting away from him. After all the insecurity he had suffered that morning, it was good to serve up a heaping dose to Mohammed. He deserved it because all of this was his fault, plain and simple. If Isaac had known the truth from the beginning, he wouldn’t have slept with him … but it was too late to go back now.
Mohammed felt a cold sweat prickle the back of his neck, and it took all of his strength not to vomit at Isaac’s feet. He wanted to run away, be anywhere but there because he didn’t have the strength it took to look into that face he made love to the previous night and say evil things in the hopes that Isaac would think he was a dick and abandon any ideas of outing him. At any cost, he had to keep his secret safe because if he didn’t, his life would turn to chaos, then ruin.
“What we had last night was fun. We shot a few loads, hot ones, but don’t get all girly on me and make it out to be some great love because it wasn’t. We fucked. Had a good time.” Mohammed shrugged. “But that’s all it was.”
“Great, so why don’t you repeat that heartfelt and passionate speech to Emma? Let’s see what she has to say about it.”
Mohammed stepped close to Isaac, feeling the heat of his skin in the overly air-conditioned store. “You keep your mouth shut.”
“I wouldn’t dream of saying anything. She seems sweet, too sweet for you. I wouldn’t want to do that to the poor girl, but don’t you think she deserves to know?”
“That’s up to me to decide. Not you.”
“You can’t tell me that you didn’t feel what I did last night, what happened between us.”
Mohammed was going to regret asking, but he had to know. “And what was that?”
“A connection—something tangible.” Isaac paused and licked his lips. “Alive. Passionate.”
He felt all those things, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. “That’s why we have sex. For some, it’s to escape, and others, to feel. To have fun.”
“Do you feel those things with her?”
“Sex between guys is different. It’s more hungry and basic. It’s not the same.” For the first time since seeing Isaac, he was being honest. “I had a great time with you, Isaac, and I’d like to have more, but not if you’re going to get attached and make demands. I’m in a relationship with Emma, and she is my priority.”
“She’s a lucky girl.” Isaac visually relaxed and his stance and the intensity in his eyes waned.
“I’m the lucky one, and I can’t hurt her. She doesn’t deserve that.”
“And what if I say that I agree?”
“To what?”
“To seeing you, having sex.”
“Can you do that? Because I’m having my doubts.”
“I’m positive. I haven’t felt that good ever, and you were the cause of that pleasure. I want more.”
Mohammed stole a quick glance toward Emma, who was still leafing through sweaters, her back to him. Safe for the moment, he risked stroking the backs of his fingers along Isaac’s smooth cheek. The friction caused an ache between his legs he didn’t expect. He wanted to say no, to refuse Isaac because he knew he was playing with fire, but he agreed with a simple nod.
“Meet me here later tonight.” Isaac’s voice sounded raw and needful. “I’m closing, and you can help me out with a little fantasy I’ve always wanted to make real. Around eight.”
Mohammed released an unexpected groan that vibrated over his body. “I can do that.”
“Eight,” Isaac reconfirmed. “Please be here.”
“I will,” Mohammed assured. “You can count on it.”
* * * *
Isaac didn’t hear Josh walk up behind him.
“Is that who I think it is?”
“Mohammed? Yeah.”
“And the pretty blonde is his girlfriend?”
“Emma.”
“Let me guess, you made a date to see him later.”
“Tonight.”
Josh groaned. “Were you listening to a thing I was saying”—he hooked his thumb toward the three-way mirror—“over there?”
“Yes.”
“Then what happened? Because at no time did I say go out with him.”
“He happened.” Isaac sighed, still staring at Mohammed, unable to tear his gaze away. “Just look at him. How could I not go back for seconds?”
“Something tells me you’ll go back for thirds, too.”
“The entire buffet.”
Josh groaned again. “Dude, please tell me you’ll be careful because I don’t like the way this is going. I’ve seen this happen to other guys, and it never works out well. I don’t mean to be all preachy, but I love you and don’t want to see you hurt.”
“I know what I’m doing… I think.”
“Famous last words.”
They watched Mohammed and Emma for a while longer as the attractive couple finally selected a cashmere blend V-neck sweater in deep burgundy. It was exactly what Isaac would have selected for Mohammed if he were asked.
“The dude is smokin’ hot,” Josh said as the couple passed, Emma waving good-bye and Mohammed giving him that look that made Isaac’s cock drip.
“I’ll be careful,” he said more for his benefit than Josh’s. “Promise.”
Chapter Four
“He seems nice,” Emma said as Mohammed pulled out of the mall parking lot heading for home.
He had promised his parents that he and Emma would have a late lunch at their house. He knew what that meant, fielding their questions about his intentions with Emma. His father, Patrick, didn’t press him as much as his mother, Parveen, but he stood firmly behind her when she asked the questions he didn’t know the answers to. Recently, the questions about marriage started to escalate. He thought they would stop, or at least slow to once a week when he moved out, but since his mother jumped on the texting bandwagon, the questions now had a row of smiley faces attached to them. He knew they meant well, but that still didn’t change the fact that the thought of walking Emma down the aisle was the furthest thing from his mind. Anxiety gripped his chest just thinking about it.
“Slow down,” Emma said. “You’re going to get a ticket.”
Mohammed was unaware that he was speeding. He slacked off the gas pedal and relaxed his hands that were tightly gripped on the steering wheel. “I guess I’m excited about eating Mom’s kebobs. It’s been a while since she’s made them.” He preferred hotdogs, but he was never going to admit that to his mother, who was under the illusion that her one and only son loved her kebobs. He was never going to admit that to her, just like he was never going to admit that he was gay.
“I wonder if Parveen would mind if I stick to a salad? I’m trying to lose a few pounds.”
“Who goes on a diet this time a year? It’s Christmas. It’s the time of year where you eat too much, drink too much, and pretend it’s not a problem until January one.”
“You’re right.” A few moments passed until she spoke again. “You don’t think I’m becoming overweight, do you?”
He signaled left, then took the turn. “Not at all. You’re perfect. Why are you asking?”
Emma opened her mouth and closed it again as if reconsidering. Out of the corner of his eye, Mohammed watched her inner struggle.
“Emma, spit it out.”
“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress with school and everything, but we haven’t made love in a while.”
His grip tightened again. “It hasn’t been that long.” Mohammed knew it had, but lately, having sex with Emma was becoming more difficult. In the beginning of their relationship, he rose to the challenge and sometimes was even satisfied with their love life, since Emma was eager to please him. But it didn’t compare with the ball-blasting, mind-shattering experience he had shared with Isaac the night before and that morning. Emma never touched him like Isaac had—not only physically but mentally too.
“Is it me? I know I haven’t been going to the gym as much lately, but ever since I doubled up on classes, I can’t seem to find the time to go. And when I do have the time, I’m too tired.” She slid her hand along Mohammed’s thigh. “I promise to get back my shape, babe.”
He didn’t know if he should pity her or despise her. “You’re fine,” he replied, his tone less than sympathetic. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s just sex, and it’s not as if we won’t have it again.”
Emma snapped her hand away from Mohammed, and she turned to gaze out the passenger side window. He knew he had hurt her, but he needed to silence the conversation.
“Your friend, Isaac.”
“What about him?”
“He’s a very handsome guy.”
Mohammed shrugged noncommittal shoulders. “I guess so.”
“Well, he definitely thinks you’re handsome. I can’t believe you didn’t notice that he was gay.”
“We have one class together. I hardly know the guy.”
She made a quiet noise, something that resembled a hum but it sounded as if it had a very specific meaning, one that Mohammed wasn’t certain of.
“What’s your point?” Mohammed said when Emma grew silent.
She shook her head, and a few strands of hair fell in front of her face. She pushed them out of the way, tucking them behind her ear. “There is no point. Just an observation.”
“I don’t make it a point to know my classmates’ sexual preferences. I don’t care. I have more important things to focus on and deal with.”
“Why are you getting so bent out of shape? I thought it was interesting to see his reaction around you. You can tell he’s into you or at least he likes guys who look like you. You’re his type.”
“Can we not talk about Isaac and his type? It’s boring.”
“Of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Okay,” she chirped. “Forget I mentioned it.” She turned to him, her smile back in place. “So, you don’t think I’m pudgy then?”
Mohammed smiled but didn’t return her gaze. “You’re perfect in every way.” And when she replaced her hand on his thigh, he didn’t flinch. He told himself to just act normal, and it would be over soon.
* * * *
When they walked into Mohammed’s parents’ house, Emma holding his hand, and in the other, purchases from the mall, he yelled out, “Mom. Dad. We’re here.”
Parveen rushed out to meet them, a huge smile on her face and her hands knotted in a kitchen towel. She stood on tiptoes to kiss Mohammed and enveloped Emma in a warm hug. When she pulled back, she gave her a kiss on her cheek, the woman’s eyes sparkling at the girl.
“It’s so nice to see you,” she said, still beaming. “I feel like it’s been so long.”
Emma smiled at Parveen. “I know, and I apologize. I’ve been so busy with school, and with the holidays approaching, I’m overwhelmed. Plus,” she added almost as an afterthought, “my brother’s getting married. He told us yesterday.” Her gaze went to Mohammed. “I can’t believe I forgot to mention it.”
Mohammed wished that Emma had forgotten to mention it altogether, especially now, with his mother standing and staring at him less than a foot away, salivating at the word, married.
“Did you hear that?” she directed to Mohammed. “Isn’t that nice. Married.” She turned to Emma. “Your parents must be so proud.”
“Yes. They are,” Emma replied.
“I don’t remember you ever mentioning you having a brother,” Parveen said.
“Yes. Warren. He’s two years older but acts like he’s twenty years older. He was always such a serious kid.”
“He’s getting married at the perfect age,” Parveen said. “I married my husband when I was twenty, Patrick being twenty-two.” She made a face that appeared as if she was remembering something fondly. “He was so handsome, and I, beautiful.”
“You still are, Mother.”
“What else is a son going to say about his mother?”
She stepped away, her hands knotting themselves around the towel again. “I hope you’ve brought an appetite, Emma. I’ve made so much food.”
Mohammed shot an apologetic look toward his girlfriend.
“I’m starving.”
It was a fib, but Mohammed appreciated Emma’s act of kindness.
“They walked from the front room directly to the kitchen, which smelled of spices and savory meat. Mohammed inhaled, his stomach beginning to rumble. “Where’s Dad?” he asked.
“Your father’s out on the lanai. Thought it would be nice to eat outside since the afternoon is so beautiful.”
And it was, the Florida heat giving way to drier, cooler temperatures that Floridians and long-time residents celebrated.
Mo
hammed walked to the sliding glass doors, which looked out onto a screened lanai that afforded beautiful if not expansive views of a natural preserve and included a small lake that gave the feeling of privacy in the one-hundred-and-twenty-house community. It was not as coveted as Emma’s neighborhood, but Mohammed always enjoyed the view of lush vegetation and the numerous species of birds that made it their home. He scanned the immediate area, finding his father cooking over the barbecue tucked up close to the house. He stifled his laughter as he watched him flip over a hamburger, then stab a hotdog that looked nearly ready. He was at his happiest while standing over a barbecue.
Before Mohammed had the opportunity to slide open the glass door, his father looked up and waved.
“Hi, Dad,” he mouthed as his father’s warm smile welcomed him. It was times like these that he missed living at home, but the warm and cozy feelings never lasted too long especially when his mother started in on her marriage campaign. Mohammed had a feeling that this was going to be one of those occasions.
“I don’t know why,” Parveen began, “he insists on cooking that food when I have prepared kebobs? Lamb is so much healthier.”
Emma winced when Parveen mentioned lamb.
Mohammed walked to the counter where his mother was standing. “It’s nice to have options. Lamb isn’t for everyone.”
Parveen scoffed. “And eating little cows and pigs are better?” She shook her head. “I think not. They are all God’s creatures meant to give us nourishment.”
“Please, Mom,” Mohammed said, “let’s not refer to the meal we’re about to eat as creatures. Doesn’t exactly makes my mouth water.”
Parveen pulled a face and then picked up a platter that was filled with already prepared kebobs. Mohammed had to admit, they did look appetizing. For his mother’s benefit, he would eat a couple just to make her happy.
The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set Page 19