by Nia Arthurs
I stiffened. The short answer was yes.
The long answer? Elliot White was not allowed to eat anyone else’s food on Sunday afternoons. If he wasn’t over at my dorm and—when I moved the second year—my apartment, for lunch at precisely twelve-thirty, I threw a fit and didn’t speak to him for days.
My eyes darted back and forth. If he said all that, Amir would know that something used to be between us.
And if he didn’t…
Elliot’s fork went lax between his pale fingers. “Uh…”
“Tell me the truth. Will we have to eat takeout for the rest of our lives?” Amir snickered.
Elliot tilted his head and studied me, his gaze turning me inside out. “Mami, you’re the only one who can answer that.”
I chuckled nervously. “Stop playing, Amir. I’ve cooked for you before.”
“Never. I thought you hated cooking.”
“I’m a great cook.”
“Great?” Elliot laughed. “Remember that time you made lasagna without the tomato sauce and it almost blew up the oven?”
“I don’t remember that story,” Gran said.
I sunk lower into my seat, laughing under my breath.
Elliot gestured with his hands. “It was exam week. Mami came over to try this new recipe she’d seen online, but she fell asleep and forgot about the lasagna. The smoke was so thick someone pulled the fire alarm. Everyone ran out of the building. I almost got kicked out of my apartment.”
“I apologized for that!” I laughed. “I just wanted to surprise you when you got back from school.”
Elliot folded his arms over his chest and glanced at me with a growing smirk. “Don’t lie. You wanted to experiment, but your dorm didn’t have an oven.”
“True…”
“You two used to hang out in each other’s rooms?” Amir asked.
I froze. The question itself was innocent, but there was dynamite hiding behind his placid expression.
Elliot’s blue eyes found mine and wavered. “It was a long time ago.”
“So why don’t you cook anymore, Imani?” Amir asked.
I batted my curls away from my face. Stupid hair. My gaze traveled to my bare wrist where I usually kept a clip but had somehow forgotten one this morning. “I’ve been busy.”
Amir stared at his plate. “Yeah. That’s it.”
Awkward silence ensued.
I picked up my fork and stuffed my face with potatoes so I had an excuse not to speak. The sudden scrape of chair legs against the wooden floors brought my head back up. Elliot was on his feet and trotting away.
I tried not to look. I swear, I put so much effort into ignoring him but, somehow, my gaze travelled to his broad back and stayed there.
Gran cleared her throat.
I startled and noticed her gesturing to Amir. Peering from the corner of my eye, I saw Amir staring at me, observing me.
I’d been caught.
My fingers tightened around the fork. I laughed to hide my discomfort. “Wow, this food is incredible, Gran.”
“Thank you, dear. Although Elliot did all of it.”
I winced.
“Here.” Elliot’s footsteps cantered toward me. He slapped a hair clip near my plate.
He’d read my mind.
How did he still do that?
Why did it still matter to me?
“Thanks.” I dragged the clip toward me and tied my hair up carefully. When I glanced over at Amir, he was watching both me and Elliot, quietly, intensely.
I squirmed as a frightening suspicion crept into my mind.
We hadn’t been able to hide it.
He knew.
Chapter 13
IMANI
The car’s purring engine pierced the silence as Amir drove me home. I shifted in the passenger seat, curving my body into the folds of the chair and staring through the window.
The Caribbean Sea roared mournfully in the distance. Instead of its usual, cerulean shade, it reflected the murky greyness of the night. Black. Inky. Dangerous.
People lived and died by that water.
All of us could die by that water.
Belize was ‘under sea level’, which meant that—at any moment, the Caribbean Sea could lash out, past the tiny barriers we, laughingly, called a wall, and destroy us.
In the blink of an eye, we could be wiped out.
When I was a kid, I watched a special about tsunamis. I saw the terror it wreaked. The water churning, rising, like a monster from one of those popular superhero movies.
I’d been afraid of the sea. It got so bad I couldn’t even drive by the Caribbean Sea without crying. Which meant I cried a lot because the water was visible in most parts of the city.
One day, my mother took me aside and told me about the treaty between man and nature.
“As long as we respect him”, she said, pointing to the beautiful sunset that burned the sea with gold, “he won’t break his promise.”
I’d frowned. “Are promises that strong? Can’t the sea just forget what he said and kill us while we sleep?”
“The sea won’t break his word, Imani.” She winked. “And neither can you.”
I took the lesson to heart. Despite being the flow-with-the-wind type— outspoken, brash, I’d never, never broken my word to someone.
If Imani Davis promised to be somewhere, by hell or high water, she’d be there.
I’d long since grown up and learned that the sea didn’t care one iota about me or my promises, but it was a habit now.
My eyes slid to Amir. This beautiful, kind, good-hearted man had gotten on his knees and asked me to marry him. I’d known it was coming, so when I said ‘yes’, it wasn’t because I’d been swept away by the romance or pressured by the people watching.
I’d made a promise. Given my word. I couldn’t back out now. Even if I wanted to.
“So… how exactly do you know that Elliot guy?” Amir asked suddenly.
I straightened. “He was a friend. I told you that.”
“A friend?”
“Yes.”
“One you used to sleep with?”
I sputtered. “Elliot and I weren’t like that.”
“But he thought about it.”
I balked. “How am I supposed to know what goes through Elliot’s mind? You saw him. He’s impossible to read.”
“Not to another man.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Amir tightened his fingers on the steering wheel. “He wants you.”
“What?”
He shook his head and frowned. “You two were just friends?”
“How many times do I have to say there was nothing between us?”
“Are you sure?”
I frowned and chose to keep quiet. If I answered that question, I’d really get pissed off.
“But you used to go over to his apartment?” Amir insisted.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything? I told you I never got with him.”
“Just answer the question, Imani!” he yelled.
“Raise your voice at me again and I’m jumping out of this car.” I hooked my thumb over the door handle so he knew I was serious.
Amir rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Did you?”
“What?”
“Did you go over to his apartment, just the two of you?”
“Yes.” I frowned.
“Did he see you naked?”
I paused.
“Imani.”
“Yes.”
Amir punched the steering wheel and cursed.
“We were crazy college kids. We used to go skinny dipping all over town. It’s not what you think.”
“Did you kiss?”
I hesitated again.
“Did you?”
I flew up. “What is this? An interrogation? You don’t see me nagging you about the women you’ve been with. Why is this such a big deal?”
“The women I’ve been with aren’t attending our weddin
g, Imani,” Amir growled.
“I told you. It wasn’t like that. Besides, my friendship with Elliot is in the past.”
“The past?” He laughed darkly. “You must think I’m blind. Or maybe that I’m deaf.” He looked over, his eyebrows slanted. “He calls you by a nickname.”
“Mami? It’s just a joke.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like it.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I?” Amir licked his lips. “Because I think I’m being very rational right now. What I saw back there… something didn’t feel right, Imani. Something about you two…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I tightened my hold on my purse strap. “We were best friends. Elliot got me in a way no one else did. But we didn’t cross that line. We were like brother and sister until the end.”
“Brother and sister, my backfoot,” Amir mumbled.
I scowled. “You don’t have to believe me. Even if you don’t, it’s the truth. We were friends then, but we’re nothing but acquaintances now.”
“Why?”
My heart stopped. “Why?”
“Yeah?” Amir lifted his shoulders and stared at me with suspicious eyes. “You were both in college. Always around each other. You’re a beautiful girl. Why didn’t he make a move then?”
I stared at my hands. “Because…”
Amir arched an eyebrow.
Memories flitted into mind. Elliot’s breath on my face. My legs over his lap. His shirt off. My skin on his. Heat. Sweat.
My stomach clenched. “Because he didn’t want me.”
“So you’re the one that wanted him?”
I clamped my jaw shut. Those words, they singed me. My whole life, I never had to chase a man. Never had to bother myself for company. I snapped my fingers and a desperate, willing guy was just… there.
My greatest fear was a man thinking that I loved him more than he loved me. And here was my fiancé, seeing through all the walls I’d built, the façade I wore, and calling me out on my hypocrisy.
Amir laughed bitterly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it.”
“I’m getting married to you. Why does it matter if some random guy from my college years is back? He’s nothing to me.”
“You know what loving you for two years did?” Amir pointed to his temple. “I can tell when you’re lying. It’s so damn easy to see.”
I turned slightly away from him, my hands shaking. I hated the exposure. Hated the thought that Elliot had been able to see what Amir saw.
“I don’t know if he’s someone you still care about or someone you regret letting go, but I don’t like it. I don’t like any of it.”
“So what do you want to do?”
He parked in front of my apartment. “I’ll handle it myself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He took my hand. The lampposts spilled over his dark skin and the determined set of his eyes. “From the moment I met you, Imani, I knew you were the woman I was supposed to marry. That feeling got stronger the more I got to know you. You are mine.”
I swallowed.
He took my hand and kissed the back of it. “Now go inside.”
“What are you going to do?” I demanded.
“Go.”
“I’m not leaving unless you tell me.”
Instead of answering, he popped his door open and strode around the hood. I watched him through the windshield, the sway of his jersey, the thud of his sneakers on the tarmac. He wrenched my door open and grabbed my hand, dragging me out.
“Amir!” I fought and slapped my fingers over his, pushing with all my might. “You’re hurting me.”
He loosened his grip immediately but didn’t stop until he’d marched me to the door of the apartment building. His face, cast into shadows, blended into the dark night. I could feel his turmoil though I couldn’t see his eyes.
“Go inside. Go to sleep. And don’t worry about anything.” Amir straightened his shoulders, turned and started walking back to his car.
“Don’t hurt him,” I hissed. My words skittered across the concrete. Echoed in the silent night.
He froze. I watched his body go stiff, saw the muscles coiling in his shoulders and arms. When he turned, his eyes were glistening. He strode back to me.
I held my ground. “I mean it.”
“You…” He gestured to his head. Paced to the side. Stomped back. “You’re worried about him right now? What about me, Imani? What about the man you’re getting married to?”
“Elliot didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You defending him isn’t making things better.”
“I’ll admit…” I ducked my head, “I have some issues to work through.” With a sigh, I glanced up. “If you trust me, if you believe in us, don’t do anything.”
Amir stared at me, his expression hardening.
My heart pounded. “Amir…”
“I love you.” Waves of anger emanating from his skin, Amir cursed. “Damn it, Imani, I would die for you.”
“I know.”
“Go to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He turned and trotted to his car.
I went inside and called Elliot’s phone.
It went straight to voicemail.
I bit my lip and paced my living room. I had to let him know.
Amir was coming.
Chapter 14
Elliot
“What did you think of Imani’s fiancé?” Gran asked as we cleared the table.
I knew she was baiting me and sidestepped the question like an open grenade on a minefield. “What did you think?”
She scraped some chicken bones into the garbage, her nose scrunched. “He’s handsome. A little like Will Smith, I think. He’s nice.”
“Yeah?”
“He seems head-over-heels for Imani.”
I grunted. I’d noticed that too.
“That’s good right?”
“What is?” I asked wearily, pushing the chairs in around the table.
“He’ll treat her right. Lots of women these days give up good relationships with honorable guys for the bad boys who—as they say—just hit it and quit it.”
I straightened. “Who taught you that?”
“I heard it on TV.” She shot me a wicked look. “What I mean is, Amir doesn’t strike me as that type. He looks at her with so much love in his eyes. Don’t you think?”
“I think I over-seasoned the potatoes.” I paused and thought it over. “Too much basil.”
“I’m asking about Amir and Imani.”
“And I’m pretending not to hear.” I swept up the dirt around the garbage can. “Did you have to invite him?”
“He’s her fiancé, Elliot.”
“And?”
“And what?” She placed a hand on her hip.
My gaze darted away, seeking refuge in the open bag of trash. “Do you want me to take out the garbage now or later?”
“It’s not like I planned it out. He called while you were getting the roast out of the oven. I told her to invite him over since we had plenty of food.” She scowled. “Besides, I figured you needed the reminder.”
“What?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you and Imani were cuddled up at church.”
“We weren’t cuddled up.”
“You were cozier than a frog in a baby bath.”
I snorted. “That from TV too?”
Gran’s finger started wagging. “That young lady is engaged. You need to give her some space.”
“I’m not chasing her around.” As much as the thought had crossed my mind. “I had no idea I’d see Imani today.”
“Is that an excuse? You need to hide these eyes” —she gestured to my pupils—“they soften and melt when Imani’s around. Anyone with some sense can tell you’re still after her.”
“I’m trying my best to get over it.”
“Are you?” She arched an eyebrow.
Gran had n
o idea. Every second I was around Imani, I wanted to throw her over my shoulder, cave-man style, and rush her to my bedroom so I could show her just how badly I’d wanted her ever since she strutted into that college club house like she owned the place.
Stopping at a few longing gazes and a little brush of the hands was nothing in comparison.
Gran set another plate into the sudsy water in the sink. “Amir seems stable, you know? He’d give it all up and follow her anywhere. I like that devotion in a man.”
“I’ll take it out now,” I said, wringing my hands over the garbage like I was wringing Amir’s neck. The fact that he was a good man only pissed me off more.
If he was a jerk, I could steal Imani away without any guilt.
But if I came between her and a good thing…
A soft hand landed on my wrist. I glanced down and saw my grandmother’s dark fingers winding over my pale skin. When I glanced up, she was looking at me, eyes narrowed. “Child, it’s okay to admit that you’re hurt.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you glaring at the garbage like it did you a personal grievance?”
“It’s dirty.”
“That’s why you’re throwing it out. Hm? It served its purpose and now it has to go.” She patted my arm. “Some things aren’t meant to last forever. Some garbage bags are only in your life for a season.”
“But this garbage bag—” Why the hell am I comparing myself to trash? “I mean,” I firmly corrected, “I’m back.”
“But you’re too late. Imani’s with someone else. See? New season.” She plucked the garbage’s top. “New bag.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”
“That was before I met Imani. I’m on her side now.”
“Traitor,” I mumbled, turning around to lug the garbage out the door.
Gran smacked my arm. “Heard that!”
I opened the front door and trotted down the porch steps to the garbage can on the outskirts of the yard. Just then, a car squealed around the curb and sped down the street.
I expected it to streak past my house, but it suddenly careened into the empty spot in front of our lawn. A man sprung from the driver’s seat and charged the sidewalk.