“I don’t know if I’m doing it right,” Edy admitted, even as their lips met.
“Hmmm.” Hassan grinned. “Let me check.” He kissed her as she giggled. And when he pulled away, he shook his head in mock disapproval. “See, you’re not supposed to laugh. But we’ll work on that later.”
He turned from her, closed the window, and peeled off his jacket before cinching her in again close. They paused, shared an exhale, and warmed the space between them. Brushed lips, hip to hip, and in the space of one whimper—hers—Edy realized.
“How long would you have waited for me?” Hassan said with a ghost of smile on his lips. “How long would we have waited for this?”
Edy heated to the roots of her hair. “Maybe forever.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Me too I think sometimes.”
His lips returned in a series of slow nips before following with a procession of more, behind her ear and straight down the pulse of Edy’s neck. She shivered, pulled him up by the scruff of his hair, and cut off his laugh with a hungry kiss of her own.
They stumbled into bed without the kissing having slowed. Her under him with her heart running the Kentucky Derby. His ran right alongside hers, looking for a first place finish. Standing up, her hands had been everywhere: in his hair, on those rugged shoulders, running fingers over those iron-like pecs. But once they collapsed in bed with him atop her, both froze.
Hassan rolled away. “Let’s catch some sleep. A few hours, though, and I climb across the yard.”
Edy looked at him and flushed. She looked at him wondered. Where had he found the self control? Five minutes ago, she might have given her virginity to him. She’d been willing, even though she’d not been ready. Before, she had prided herself on being far more practical than the boys, but now she wondered. Meanwhile, he was still Hassan—still as loving and sheltering as ever. He was still on some quest to protect her, and he would always protect her, even if she needed protecting from herself.
Eighteen
Hassan woke to the sound of his cell, shrill and far too close to his ear. He groped for it, nearly toppling the Patriots lamp at his bedside, before closing his hand around it. He’d spent most of the night at Edy’s, arms wrapped around her, fading in and out as he listened to her sleep. Rest had eluded him.
“Yeah?” he said into the phone.
“We need you to come over,” Lawrence said. “Mom has us moving stuff and we need an extra pair of hands.”
They were rich and could hire help. But there was no point in stating in the obvious.
“I’m asleep,” Hassan said.
“I noticed.”
Hassan rolled onto his back, eyes shut in an attempt to catch the last remnants of rest.
Lawrence grunted. “Listen. Just . . . come over and give me a hand. Now.”
He hung up before Hassan could respond.
Half an hour later, he dragged himself out of bed, showered, and hiked the three blocks to the Dyson house. After getting no answer with the doorbell, Hassan nudged open the front door and watched it swing into darkness.
“Hello?” His voice carried with the echo. He could have been sleeping. He could have been reviewing the playbook. He could have been scarfing down pancakes or something. His stomach grumbled in agreement.
They’d better have breakfast.
“Hello?”
A blast from the side floored Hassan, toppling him at the exact moment he realized people were near, in the shadows. He took a slap at the back of his neck before sharp, stinging jabs rained down all over his legs. And it occurred to him. He was getting his ass kicked.
Hassan struggled to his feet, only to be snatched down by his shirt. Both twins grabbed hold of his arms, subduing him so that only his legs could kick.
“Ow!” he hollered and attempted to twist around.
Above him, Lawrence came into view.
“Go, Lil’ D. Get a lick in. We know you didn’t hit him,” Mason said.
“Man, come on. I called him, like you said. Why should I—”
“Either you hit him, or you’re next. And Sawn’ll probably help since you didn’t help him,” Matt said.
Lawrence sighed. He knelt down on a knee so that he and Hassan were eye level. Then he tagged him in the arm. A punch with no fire. A love tap.
“Hit him for real. And hurry up. He’s strong.”
Hassan strained against the weight of their hold only to have a sharp yank on either side still him. Lawrence blasted him in the shoulder.
“Ow!” Hassan cursed. “Kutiya.”
The twins released him and stood.
“You okay?” Mason said and offered Hassan a hand.
He slapped it away.
“You can’t be mad,” Matt said. “You agreed to this.”
Hassan clamored to his feet, wondering what his legs would look like when he removed his pants. Rubbing the spot where Lawrence tagged him, he scowled at his attackers.
“I’m pretty sure I never agreed to getting attacked.”
“No. But we all agreed years ago that we’d beat up Edy’s first boyfriend, whoever the sorry sucker happened to be.” Mason threw an arm around Hassan. “And now that that’s done, we sit down and have a nice long talk.”
Hassan took a seat on Matt’s king-sized bed, drew up a leg, and let his back hit the wall. Across from him, his three closest friends in the world scowled as if he were the intruder who had just been caught. He suddenly realized just how brave a man Wyatt Green had to be.
Mason flipped around a chair from Matt’s desk and straddled it, eyes on Hassan. He leaned forward so that his arms folded along the top before resting his chin on his fist.
“Did you sleep with her?” he said.
To outsiders, there was no telling Matt from Mason. Both had long, lean, dark frames and devilish sort of grins. They were known for their wit, their hijinks, and their carefully construed indifference. But Hassan knew another side of them: the one he was seeing now.
“No.”
The room filled with exhales.
“You been in love with her a long time,” Mason noted. “Maybe even always.”
Hassan lowered his gaze. It wasn’t exactly a question, and he didn’t exactly have room to argue.
“What are you gonna tell Nathan?” Matt said, from where he leaned against the wall.
“Nathan? What about his mom? His dad? Or Edy, when the chick he’s supposed to marry shows up on the scene?” Mason said.
Hassan exhaled. He was sixteen. Sixteen and American. As American as any blond-haired, blue-eyed boy from Topeka, Kansas. He didn’t want to worry about arranged marriages, race, religion, or any other differences adults liked to get tangled in. But like all children of immigrants, he balanced on a tightrope, hovering between what was and what is—pockets overflowing with pressures from each.
Hassan’s phone vibrated. He peeked at his phone in what he hoped was discreet fashion.
A text from Edy.
Having a problem.
His answer was immediate.
???
Can’t stop thinking about u.
Nothing could stop his idiotic grin.
Lucky me.
When Hassan looked up, all eyes were on him. He sighed, unable to shake the feeling of having more to grapple with than what was fair for a boy his age.
“Look. You think I’ve got all the answers?” He jammed away the phone. “No one does. Not me, not Edy, and definitely not our parents. But I can tell you this. I’d rather be sitting next to her with all the problems in the world, than trapped in a room that smells like monkey balls and skunk piss, while acting like I care what you guys think.”
The twins grinned.
“That just earned you more face time with the floor,” Mason said.
“We’ll see.” Hassan stood. “This time, I get Lawrence.”
~~~
Edy grabbed a khaki knapsack off her desk, stuffed an endless assortment of nothings in it—including tattered receipts and
chewing gum—took the chewing gum out, thought of Hassan, and threw it back in with a blush. Halfway down the stairs she remembered her coat, ran back, and set off again.
“Sweetheart, you don’t think it’s odd to go skating at night?” her father ventured, following her to the door. “It’s a festive activity, best handled under the light of day.”
“Daddy, please. What difference does it make if it’s light out or not when we’ll be indoors?” Edy turned on him long enough to catch the rare pursing of lips that meant he’d been stumped. She erased it by standing up on tiptoe and kissing his cheek. “Hassan, Lawrence, and the twins will be there, so yes, the answer to your next question is that I’ll be safe.”
His frown tilted only a tad.
“You could do something closer to home. All of you could crowd in here like you used to and—”
“Daddy.”
“Edith, Dorchester isn’t safe at night!”
Edy sighed, reminding herself as she rummaged through her knapsack for keys that his worrisome nature was a sign of love, not distrust.
“I’m more capable than you give me credit for. And anyway, we’ll be fine. We’re skating, not heading to a knife fight on Blue Hill Ave.”
The twist of his face had her regretting the words, so she kissed his cheek quickly, certain that her path to escape narrowed by the second.
“Be safe,” he said in a voice a little too soft, a little too serene.
She shot him a single inquisitive look and left.
Edy peeked into the SUV idling at the curb and scowled at the sight of Chloe. Mason was driving with Alyssa Curtis in the front passenger seat. Matt and Lawrence sat like bookends in the back with Chloe in the middle. Jessica Wilson sat on Matt’s lap.
Alyssa and Jessica were the two upperclassmen who Edy always assumed attended her birthday parties under duress. Seeing them so clearly attached to the twins forced Edy to rethink their motivations for the annual attendance. It conjured up images of all the girls who used to compliment her shirts or chat her up enthusiastically, in the hopes of gaining sway with her boy of choice.
“Nice sweater,” Alyssa said in greeting.
Edy’s eyes narrowed to nothing. Never had the girl spoken to her before.
“It is nice,” Mason concurred from behind the wheel. “Sawn pick that out when you two went shopping for curtains?”
The Dysons snorted with laughter.
“You shut up,” Jessica said. “I think they’re cute. Always have been.”
She shot Edy a reassuring smile.
“I forget your name,” Edy said sweetly. “Or the last time we spoke for that matter.”
The laughter snuffed out.
“Do me a favor and dial back the Cruella de Ville,” Matt said.
If he thought for a second that his friends wouldn’t be subjected to the Wyatt treatment, then he—
“Beautiful view back here,” Hassan said.
Edy jumped, turned to face him, then flushed horribly, as latent understanding found her. He’d been looking at her backside.
She groped for something clever. “Hey,” she managed.
“Hey,” he said. “Haven’t seen you all day.”
“Hadn’t touched her all day” was what came to her mind. That he hadn’t wrapped arms around her waist or pressed lips to hers all day. Him slumbering with an arm beneath her head felt like eons ago. Was it really only the night before?
“Stare at each other on your own time,” Mason said. “Meet you at the rink.”
Their group met at the rink’s entrance and queued for shoe rentals. When it was Edy’s turn at the counter, Mason flanked her right and Matt her left, whispering in her ear about a pierced and pudgy man, whom they likened to a walrus in a leotard. Wasn’t he her type? Didn’t she want his number? They’d make sure she got it if she wasn’t nicer to the other girls.
With only a pout that mimicked hurt feelings, she promised to say nothing more. Absolute silence was what she’d give those girls. That wouldn’t stop her from searing glares though.
As the group laced up on benches, Jessica and Alyssa traded barbs with the twins about their exes, slicing words that cut, despite bright, deceptive smiles. With each comment, irritation snaked through Edy, promising to tip her temper to the point of words. So when Matt whisked Jessica onto the rink and kissed her, Edy’s scowl followed them round and round, turning circles that should have made her dizzy.
“Starving,” Mason announced. “Gonna make Lawrence buy me something. Be right back.”
For some reason, he snatched Hassan by the arm, steering him away. Edy looked around, wondering how she’d come to be left with Alyssa Curtis. Where were the others? Even Chloe would have been preferable then.
Alyssa was staring at Edy. “Am I really that bad?”
Edy couldn’t keep her word to the twins and answer her, so she decided to pretend she hadn’t heard.
“Wow. It’s as bad as everyone thinks. You’re an absolute jerk,” Alyssa said.
Edy’s mouth fell open. “And you’re only talking to me to get somewhere with Mason!” There. She hadn’t meant to say it, but she’d been provoked.
“You’re either painfully conceited,” Alyssa said, “or you enjoy playing the victim. It’s their fault though, with the way they orbit you like the star of their solar system. Are we all supposed to treat you like that? You go on and on about when and under what conditions certain people to you. But just as easily as I can talk to you, you can talk to me, too. I’ve seen you every day for years. In the halls, on the street. I’ve seen you walk right by me. Why don’t you talk to me?”
“Why would I do that?” Edy mumbled.
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe to thank me for one of the birthday presents I’ve gotten you every year for the last six years.”
Edy shot her a sideways look, heat creeping into her cheeks.
“The boys have nothing to do with it,” Alyssa said. “People don’t speak to you because you don’t like to be spoken to. You act like we’re the snobs, but you’re the biggest snob of them all. You and yours are too good for everything and everyone.”
Edy paused, mouth pregnant with a protest. It reminded her of the time Ali had spent all afternoon professing to be a consummate diver, fielding the laughs of his wife, Hassan, and Edy. He’d climbed shirtless onto the diving board at their resort in Belize, abdomen hairy and formidable, arms extended. A pause ensued, weighted and silent, as they considered—only briefly—that perhaps they didn’t know all there was to Ali Pradhan.
And then he swan-dived into the pool.
Things weren’t always what they seemed to be.
“If I’m so unbearable,” Edy said, “then why do you come to the parties?”
She didn’t think she wanted to hear the girl’s answer.
Alyssa hesitated.
“Mason loves you,” she said. “So I do too.”
Edy considered the possibility.
She’d seen them horse playing in the hall and exchanging the occasional hug or touch. But nothing more. “I never knew you two were so serious.”
Alyssa shrugged. “As serious as anyone can be with a Dyson.”
It occurred to Edy that being romantically involved with someone who was all tickles and giggles had to be difficult. How could you separate sincerity from situational comedy? She pictured Alyssa leaning in to kiss Mason, only to have her most vulnerable moment turned into fodder for laughs. Edy had always thought her boys too good for the pickings around them. Never once had she considered their shortcomings.
She hadn’t known that Mason and Alyssa were an item, for example. Yet she’d seen him with other girls in the hallway as readily as she’d seen him with Alyssa, grinning, flirting, and cutting eyes as their bottoms sashayed past. Were Hassan to ever treat her that way, Ali and Rani would have to bury him piecemeal.
Mason appeared.
“Matt’s trying to show us up,” he announced and held out a hand to Alyssa. “The bum thinks he’s Do
n Juan the Figure Skater.”
Alyssa gave Edy a tight smile and whisked away with Mason as Hassan showed up.
“You didn’t get food?” she asked, blinking away lingering thoughts from the conversation just passed.
“I ordered fries for us, but Mason licked ’em.” Hassan shrugged.
“Ready?” he said and pulled Edy to her feet.
He gripped her hand, eager, led her to the rink, and then shot like a bullet. She whipped in alongside him, ready for his punishing stride.
Back when Edy’s mother was a lowly assistant D.A., she and Tessa Dyson would take the kids roller skating. The women used to harbor a fanaticism for the sport that sucked them all in, making their childhoods as much about strobe lights and blading to disco as it was about football, family, and friends. But though that was long ago, skating bonded them still. They managed a competitive streak that outsiders couldn’t quite get.
Music pulsed and jolted as a dizzying array of strobe lights streaked the rink. They circled at a blast, fingers laced, hair flapping, bodies slicing in flawless sync. Edy leaned in, leading, and shot him a wolfish grin.
“Keep up,” she warned.
His eyes lit with the deliciousness of her taunt before he kicked into overdrive, yanking her forward into breakneck speed. Edy shrieked in approval, then heckled as they passed a meandering Mason and Alyssa circling the rink at a crawl.
“Come on. I like your thinking,” Hassan said, and they whipped around the rink again, twin minds of a single devilish nature, racing toward the source of their next amusement. And when they arrived, they circled Mason and Alyssa as if they were prey, grinning at the winding way they moved. All jerks and lurches from Alyssa’s inexperience with Mason’s jaw clenched in his impatience.
“I’d say you should glue her to you,” Hassan said, “But I doubt she can hold you up much longer.”
They swept off at the barb as Mason cursed, crooks on the lam, laughing, chancing a second look. Together, Edy and Hassan shot at triple speed, stockpiling velocity, feeling invincible. This was them, them as they’d always been.
Love Edy Page 20
