by Farah Heron
After Reena stared at her phone for about two minutes, the three little dots started flashing. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her leggings and waited.
Nadim: You wanted this so much. I am willing to continue. As your friend.
Why had he added that last sentence? To remind her or himself that they were only friends?
Also, why was this so complicated?
After seeing her name on the website, she realized that she did want it. Not just the prize, but also the recognition. The prestige. She wanted proof that even though her life was a steaming pile of turd, she was still a great cook worthy of a national contest. She just wasn’t sure how wise it was to do this with Nadim.
He wrote again before she could respond.
Nadim: Come for dinner tomorrow. I owe you a home-cooked meal. We can talk. Total honesty.
Reena finally exhaled.
Reena: OK. What can I bring?
Nadim: Just you is all I need.
* * *
Her Canadian manners wouldn’t let her go to a dinner party without bringing something, so despite the flock of butterflies using her stomach for flight practice, she still went to a local microbrewery on Friday afternoon to grab some craft beer. When she returned, the most unexpected smell overcame her as she entered the first-floor hallway.
Bread. Home-baked bread. And there was only one place it could be coming from.
Nerves be damned, she knocked on Nadim’s door, despite being two hours early for dinner. The smell couldn’t be from him, though. He should still be at work.
But he answered the door, eyes wide, wearing a red plaid apron.
“You’re early,” he said, quickly untying the apron and pulling it over his head. He tossed it on the couch.
She handed him the six-pack. “What’s that smell? Sourdough? What bakery is it from?”
“I made it.” His shoulders fell. “But I messed it up. I was just about to go out and buy another loaf. I should’ve waited for you to teach me.”
“You made bread?”
“I tried. It’s to go with dinner.”
“How? With what? Where’d you learn?”
He raised an eyebrow, one side of his mouth barely curling up in a smile. “Have you heard of this new thing, Ree? It’s called the internet. There’s so much information there—”
“Let me see,” she said, still disbelieving.
She followed him into the kitchen. And sure enough, cooling on the kitchen counter was a golden, flat, sourdough loaf.
“I made it with Al,” he said, “but something went wrong. It didn’t rise like yours.”
Reena pressed her finger into the crusty loaf. Good spring back. Crisp crust. True, it was a little flat, but it had some lift. She lowered her nose to smell the crust. Nice, slightly sour, nutty scent. Not bad for a first time.
“You made it with what?”
“Al. My all-purpose starter. Remember, the puppy from Brian’s litter you let me keep?”
“You kept that starter? And you named him Al?”
“Yes, I told you I planned to keep it. I wanted a pet. I’ve been feeding him every day. Al’s quite robust.”
Reena tilted her head. This man. She’d spent the last four days wallowing in self-loathing, mind swirling with doubts about how he felt about her. And he’d spent it…figuring out how to make bread.
He was so strange. In all the same ways she was. They were a set. And, for now, at least, they should stay that way. She had to find a way to salvage this friendship. She opened her mouth to apologize for everything, when he interrupted her.
“I’m glad you came early. Before I say or do something else stupid, I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have, I mean. I know everything I told you Monday came out wrong. I hate that I upset you. We had this boundary between us, and I overstepped it when I kissed you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t come on to you because of my dad. Or yours. You were warm and smelled so good and I just forgot everything and…” He sighed.
He looked upset. And so weary. “Wait here,” he said. “I have to do this before I lose my nerve.”
He went into the living room, took a small white gift bag from the coffee table, and pulled a black velvet jewelry box out of the bag. Leaving the bag on the kitchen counter, he walked around until he stood in front of Reena.
He took a deep breath. “I took today off work and went shopping.” And then he did the unthinkable. Slowly, remarkably, eyes only on Reena’s, he lowered himself to one knee, and opened the box.
Inside, nestled in black velour, sat a beautiful, glimmering ring. A large, clear stone in the center, with several thin bands of rose gold and white gold dotted with tiny stones on each side of it. Reena’s eyes widened.
What. The. Hell. Reena tried to speak, but her tongue seemed to have grown three sizes.
“Ree, I know I haven’t known you that long, but I…I really like you. And that is completely because of who you are. You’re funny, and competent, and generous, and…I can’t lose this friendship. Remember when I told you that I don’t know who I am most of the time? I’m not like that with you. I feel like me with you. This…connection we have, it’s completely separate from our families. I would never, ever want something from you that you didn’t want, too.” He took a deep breath and held out the box. “This ring cost me thirty dollars, but it won’t turn your finger green. Will you keep it as a promise to never marry me?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
She blinked. “You’re giving me an engagement ring?”
He smiled nervously and raised one eyebrow. “No. It’s an un-gagement ring. I called my father and told him things were going well at work and with your father, but you and I will not be getting married. The deal with your dad will still go on. I bought this ring because…I thought you’d need a better ring for the contest, and…” He bit his lip. “I don’t know…I just…”
That look on his face. He thought he’d screwed up again. But he hadn’t. This ring was…it was lovely. The first thing Reena needed to do was to wipe that look off his face. She let a small smile reassure him. “It’s a beautiful ring.”
But inside, her mind was spinning faster than a food processor blade. An un-gagement ring? Who ever heard of such a thing?
Only Nadim. The man who’d made her laugh, both intentionally and unintentionally every time the walls closed in on her since the day they’d met. Who shared gin gimlets in her local dive bar when she lost her job. Who rubbed her feet after several hours under bright lights for a cooking contest she wanted to enter. And now, when faced with the terrifying prospect of facing this lonely life alone again, he bought her a fake ring to prove his real feelings.
It couldn’t be more perfect. Reena didn’t want to hide the truth anymore—she was coping and surviving thanks to this man.
Fuck it. Salvaging the friendship was one thing, but this ring, this remarkable, extraordinary symbol, didn’t mean commitment, family, tradition, or forever, but only meant he cared for her. Just her. Whatever this thing between them was, it was as real as this diamond was fake, and maybe it was time for Reena to trust the feelings that were threatening to consume her whole.
Reena grinned widely and pushed his shoulders down. He fell back on the living room floor with an umph, legs stretched out in front of him. He still held the ring.
Chuckling, she lowered herself on his lap, straddling his firm thighs. She leaned in to kiss him softly on the neck before presenting her left hand to him. “You’re so weird,” she said, “but yes, I’ll accept your un-gagement ring.”
His eyes widened with her kiss, but he quickly laughed as he put the ring on her finger and tossed the box behind him. A warm smile on his face, he rested his hands on her hips. “It’s a perfect fit. And you’re weird, too,” he said.
“Is that all you can say about me? Competent, generous, and weird?”
“Hey.” He laughed, pulling her a little closer by the hips. “I love competence. I could watch you knead bread all da
y. But”—he leaned over and spoke into her neck—“I missed some other descriptors. You’re sexy. You always smell fantastic, and you have the most amazing curly hair I’ve ever seen. You’re so cute when you’re thinking hard and you bite your lip and I just want to pull it out with my teeth. And don’t even get me started on your feet. I’ll never understand how anyone could think you’re unmemorable.”
Reena blushed. For a split second, her traitorous insecurities wondered if he only said these things to please her father. But when he lifted his head and she saw the sincerity in those intense eyes, she trusted him. She trusted this. She looped her arms behind his neck and steadied herself. “Shut up, Nadim,” she said, before lowering her lips to his.
This kiss wasn’t like their last one. It felt more like a question—an intentional action instead of getting caught in a moment. Because though she had enough confidence to kiss him, her self-doubt prevented her from showing him exactly how much she wanted him.
He apparently had no such reservations. He growled from deep in his throat before lifting his knees to slide her even closer, eliminating all space between them. His hands trailed up from her hips to her waist as his most rakish smile yet transformed his face.
“You kissed me,” he said.
“I did.” She smiled.
His arms raised, one to the small of her back and the other behind her neck as he leaned in closely, but didn’t touch. He just stared for a few moments as the air around them seemed to crackle with electricity. She bit her lip.
“So, it’s open season? I can kiss you, too?” he asked.
She nodded.
Slowly, he lifted his hand to her mouth and pulled her lip out from between her teeth. “I didn’t think you wanted this. It’s not why I bought you the ring,” he whispered, his hand lightly stroking her cheek. He breathed a sigh. “I bought it to apologize for thinking of you this way…This is complicated, yeah? And I really don’t want to mess it up, but…” He leaned in close again, his hands stroking the skin on the back of her neck. “I dreamed you wanted me. Tell me that you do.”
She did, but she preferred actions to words. “Kiss me.”
His smile widened seconds before his lips claimed hers. And this kiss was like the one on Monday—completely enveloping. She didn’t know why she’d waited—she should have come here and kissed him every night since that first kiss. Actually, they should have done this weeks ago. Intense and enthusiastic, he had one hand on the back of her neck and the other rested on her cheek as he all but devoured her whole. She wrapped her legs around his waist and finally ran her fingers over that velvety cropped hair. He moaned in appreciation.
Out of breath and needing some air, she pulled back and looked at him.
His lips were swollen and curved into a smile. Pupils dilated. Skin flushed. He leaned forward, chasing the connection she’d broken. She grinned.
“Fucking hell,” he murmured. “I should have promised to never make an honest woman out of you a long time ago. Are you sure, Ree?” He rested his head on hers.
She nodded, tilting her chin up to kiss him again.
“I haven’t been able to think straight all week,” he said, once they broke free again. “I want you. All of you, in every way. I want you in my home. I want you with me in my kitchen. I want you in my bed.” He let his hands fall back to her hips. “But I’m okay if you want to go slow here. Or stop altogether.”
She considered it for about two seconds before she giggled. “I’ve already slept in your bed. You’ve searched for bugs in my hair. We’ve managed to have both an arranged and a fake engagement. Not to mention the things you did with my feet. I’m not sure slow is possible.” She leaned forward and nipped at his neck.
He laughed. Grinning, she finally took the opportunity to get her tongue into that dimple. She nibbled and licked her way back to his lips.
His hands tightened. “So, you’re saying…”
“Do you have condoms?”
His smile nearly split his face in two. “Yes.”
“Then take me to bed, Nadim.”
He beamed. “Gladly.” In one smooth movement, he grasped her bottom and stood, barely letting go of her lips as he walked her over to the pink four-poster bed.
It turned out that talent while making out on her couch or his living room floor easily predicted talent in a bed, too. Granted it had been a long time, but twelve boyfriends and a handful of casual hookups had left Reena feeling pretty confident at judging sexual prowess. She tended to categorize first times as either: wow, potential to become wow, awkward, or nope. For Nadim, she needed a new category. Something between wow and holy crap wow.
“Sweet mother of God…” he said, collapsing on top of her afterward, arms straining to keep his weight off her.
She laughed, pushing him off her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was fully intended as one,” he said into his pillow.
“I’ll be back.” She hopped out of bed to use his bathroom because she wanted a UTI like she wanted a nuclear winter. While in the bathroom, she looked at her face in the mirror.
Hair a mess. Neck reddened with friction irritation. And a goofy smile plastered on her face. Not a trace of regret.
He got up after she returned, presumably to clean up and dispose of the condom, before they settled back in his bed.
She smiled, nuzzling her cheek in his satiny sheets. “You have excellent sheets, by the way.”
“They’re Egyptian cotton. Is that why you wanted to sleep with me?”
She giggled. “Maybe. I’ve always had a soft spot for Egypt. I want to see the Pyramids one day.”
“They’re on my bucket list, too.”
“What else is on your bucket list?” she asked.
“Would you call me weird if I said it was to eat fresh bread in bed?”
She laughed as she shifted to rest her head on his chest. Mmm…nicer than the sheets. She rubbed her cheek against him.
He chuckled before checking the time. “Ha! It’s not even five. Going to have to kick you out soon. I’m making dinner for this chick I’m really into.”
She grinned. “Oh really? What are you making her?”
“It needs to be spectacular to impress her—she’s a fantastic cook. I’m doing shrimp and scallop linguine with a white wine sauce.”
Reena twisted onto her side and ran her hand down his side, resting it on his solid hip bone.
“I’m sure she’ll be impressed. And I’m sure she’ll be willing to help you cook, if it means we can spend more time in bed together.”
He laughed out loud and pinched her bottom. “Have I mentioned you have a rather amazing ass?”
She laughed harder as he grasped her hips and pulled her on top of him, kissing her soundly. She took that to mean they weren’t going to get out of bed quite yet.
Later, Reena was resting her head on his chest again, her hand drifting across one of his hip bones to the other. It still felt unreal that this was happening, that she had access to touch the body she’d been admiring for weeks. “Can I ask you something? Actually, two things.”
“Of course.”
“Your stomach…” Her hands skimmed over his belly. “You have those big arms but no…six-pack. And…don’t take this badly but…do you even lift anymore?”
He laughed at her bro-dude impression. “Nah, not much. Not at all, really. And you keep feeding me bread…You mind if I lose the biceps?”
She readjusted herself so her head rested on his arm instead of on his chest. “Nope. Not at all.” She knew better than to ever say it out loud, but she didn’t care one bit if he was squishy or built like a tank. Both had their benefits. And right now, during after-sex snuggles, a layer of squish covering the hard muscles would be welcome.
“Okay. Second question. You keep saying that I’m not what you expected. What exactly did your father tell you about me?”
“Well, he said you were good. Not that you’re not good”—he squeezed her�
�“but you know what I mean. Wholesome. They told me you worked in finance and were still single because you’d been focusing on your career. I thought you were a devoted daughter who lived with your parents. That’s why I was shocked to see you across the hall.”
“You didn’t know what I looked like?”
“I did see a picture in your dad’s office. But it didn’t really look like you. You were wearing this purple salwar kameez and standing with your parents. And your hair was straight. I could tell you were cute, but—”
“I know that picture. From my brother’s wedding. Mum’s makeup artist totally overdid it.” She chuckled, remembering the ridiculous high heels she’d been forced to wear. No wonder he didn’t recognize her. She’d felt like an illusion that day. In fact, the whole day had been a charade. Despite Khizar and Nafissa being so madly in love, both their parents’ interference on the wedding day ruined any chance of them enjoying any of it. Mum even hired that makeup artist, despite Nafissa being a makeup artist and wanting to hire one of her friends. Reena decided then not to have the big Indian wedding her parents would insist on, and to never even consider one of the arranged introductions they forced on her.
And now she’d slept with one of them.
She pushed away the feeling of impending doom and squeezed him playfully. “And now that you know I’m not what they sold you, you don’t want to marry me anymore?”
His other arm snaked around her and pulled her on top of him again. “No. I don’t.” He buried his head in her neck and inhaled. “I’ve been restless for a long time,” he said. “Actually, restless is the wrong word. I was too busy to realize how bored I was. Too many people around to realize how lonely I felt. But then you came along and turned everything upside down.” He smiled. “I’m not sure about the future. But I am sure about the present.” He pulled her head up and kissed her gently. “And all I want right now is to make you happy.” He kissed her again, deeper this time. Reena lost herself in the perfect embrace. He pulled back again. “You’re unexpected, Reena Manji. Never unmemorable.” He kissed her again, before murmuring against her lips. “Twelve boyfriends?” he asked, smiling. “Is it too unlucky to try for a thirteenth? Am I doomed to fail?”