Love Edy (26 page)

She batted eyelashes at him, forcing him to
shift back for space.

Hassan had two options. The first entailed
getting up, which would invite over scores of girls, eager to share
the limelight of his win. Alternatively, sitting there would mean
enduring his best friends’ kid sister. He told himself the second
option was best, even as Vanessa Dyson dragged a manicured finger
across his arm.

“You know what?” she said. “Your eyes are so
pretty.”

“Go to bed, Nessa,” Lawrence said and pulled
her to her feet.

She pouted, only to stomp off after one
stern look from her brother.

“Thank you,” Hassan mouthed.

Lawrence sighed. “She promise herself to you
again?”

Hassan turned up his beer and found it
empty.

“Not yet,” he said, with a glance to the
can.

Lawrence grinned. “Guess I should’ve waited
a little longer then.”

He disappeared before returning with a fresh
beer. Hassan took it, mumbled thanks, and looked around. “Sawn. You
and Edy—”

“I could use some air.” Hassan said and
headed for the back porch.

He weaved between a throng of cheerleaders
in uniform near the door. One grabbed his wrist and pulled, forcing
him to pause long enough to pry her fingers from him without being
forceful. A hand gripped his bicep; lips brushed his ear in
invitation. Freedom found, Hassan slipped into the cold of the
night, grateful.

Another half hour passed before Edy’s
arrival. He spent it on the back porch, staring out at the skyline,
and above it, the crescent moon.

She used to call it a fingernail moon when
they were kids. Just a sliver of whiteness suspended in the sky,
the rest hidden but still there. They were the same way, he
supposed. A sliver of what was real in view, the rest hidden but
still there.

The door behind him opened.

Edy.

“I was starting to worry,” he said.

“Sorry. I had to climb out the window.”

Hassan grinned. An easy task for a girl with
all jocks for friends. He reached out an arm to her, impatience
melted away.

“Come here, already,” he said and pulled her
in.

She came to him, natural as breathing. When
she folded into his embrace, their bodies melded—it was always the
same. His lips found her forehead and pressed. Her arms wrapped his
waist and squeezed, slipping beneath the fabric of his coat.

She tilted her head up to look up at him,
smiling. He took her hand from his waist, cool to the touch, and
brought it to his chest, at the place where his heart beat beneath.
“Feel that?”

Her fingers spread, eyes wide. “It’s beating
so fast,” she whispered.

“Do you know why?”

Edy lowered her gaze. “The game?”

“Try again.” He captured her mouth with
his.

Their foreheads touched, their noses, their
lips, and he whispered Edy’s name like a last exhale. In the ice of
winter the whole world froze, except him and her in that moment. He
kissed her again. Swallowing, devouring, moving in deeper, pressing
closer with each passing second.

Everything. That’s what he aimed to give.
Hollowed out and emptied from his soul into hers. Edy clung to him,
opening, purring, and reeling him in, weakening Hassan by her ready
reply, scorching them both with hunger. This kiss . . . oh . . .
this kiss. He had his tongue in her mouth, thrusting. Edy met it
with a moan.

“Oh. Wow. Okay.”

They looked up to find Lawrence staring at
them. He blinked as if trying to burn the image away.

“Twins are about to tell the team that
they’re committing to Georgia. I know you already knew, but they
wanted you there and stuff.”

“Okay,” Hassan said.

“Okay.” Lawrence shifted, looked awkwardly
from one to the other, and then ducked back into the house.

“Well,” Hassan said. “Let’s go give ’em
something to talk about, huh?”

He held out his hand to her.

When she took it, Hassan swept her in.

“Leave your window open tonight,” he said.
“I don’t plan on getting interrupted again.”

~~~

Edy slipped into her room just after one in
the morning, the silence of a sleeping house engulfing her. She
hesitated, back at the window, listening for a sound from her
parents.

Nothing.

Leave her window open.

That was what Hassan had said and that was
what she thought about, with the taste of his spearmint gum still
sweetening her mouth.

He wanted to come to her, uninterrupted,
with the promise of finishing they’d started.

Edy looked back at her bed.

The feel of his body lingered on her, the
pressure of his lips still there. She could smell him, taste him,
touch him still, it seemed. But there was no way she was ready to
sleep with him. Her pounding heart said maybe.

Edy turned to find him scaling their tree.
She stepped back, giving him space enough to swing in. Avocado eyes
met hers, heavy-lidded and weighted. Exhaustion, definitely. Maybe
even regret.

He kissed her before she could ask.

Tendrils of heat licked through her,
tempting with all the possibilities, of kissing, of hands pulling
her in tight, of hardness flush against her.

He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling
her in. The smallest breath escaped her before he stole even that
in a kiss. And there it was again. The thing she couldn’t name. The
thing that curled and stirred at his touch, slight from day to day,
but like a vortex suddenly.

“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.”