Chapter 23 #3
I didn’t realize I’d leaned forward again until his lips grazed mine.
He was teasing, inhaling me, letting his nose brush against mine.
I closed the space between us, melting my lips into his and reaching my arms around his neck.
One of his hands cupped my face, the other my waist, bringing me closer to him, which was hard given the gearshift between us.
Our tongues met, and stroked, the kiss deepening.
It was the sound of Zain’s phone ringing that made us break apart.
He dug into his jeans pocket and frowned at the caller’s name.
“It’s my mentor,” he explained.
“You can take it,” I said, breathless. I pinched the outside of my thigh in an attempt to focus myself.
He muted the call and shook his head. “I’ll call him back in a bit.”
“Well, I should go…” I said, realizing that making out in a car around the corner from my dad was a recipe for disaster.
“I hope you sleep well,” Zain said, pressing one last kiss to my lips.
I doubted that I would, but hoped if I did have dreams tonight, they would be of the love we shared, and not of the jinn that had declared a war against us—and my mother.
“Majid,” I said by way of greeting as I got in the car that was parked on a side street, away from the business of the main road, the jubilation and cheers of the crowds distant.
The white nurse’s uniform I wore was tight enough to force me to sit up straight in the passenger seat.
The man who sat in the driver’s seat, and looked like Zain, had an unreadable expression.
His green army suit, with buttons down the front, was fitted to his lean torso.
On his lap was an army hat. He appeared different from the times I’d seen him before.
For one, he had a mustache. It was a sandy blond and suited him.
He seemed older, maybe in his early twenties.
“Are you happy about the shah coming into power?” he asked in Farsi, his voice colored with excitement. “It’s a new era.” I wasn’t sure how, but somehow in my dreams, I understood the language perfectly, as though unlocking a whole other skill my past self possessed.
“Yes,” I said, my hands gathered in my lap. I pressed my palms together, as though in a sort of silent prayer. “But that’s not why you asked me to meet you, is it?” I raised my chin, almost defiantly locking eyes with him. My lips curved when I saw the tops of his cheeks gain heat.
“You’re mad at me,” he guessed, eyes suddenly downcast.
“Not mad,” I said smoothly. “I understand.”
“It’s just beyond comprehension.” His voice was quiet, like he was speaking to himself.
He put his hat on the dashboard and bundled both my hands in his.
“I would have only ever thought you were from light, the way your presence turns my day from gray to color, the way you nursed me back to health after my wound…But I’ve realized I don’t care what you are. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
I turned my body to face him. “You don’t?” I replied in wonder, as though what he was saying was impossible.
He shook his head, biting his bottom lip. My gaze remained on his lip, wishing it was my lip that he was biting.
Ahead of us, fireworks sounded. I could see the remains of them out of the corner of my eye.
“I don’t believe how we’re made is reflective of how good we are. I know you. I trust you. And anyway, it’s you, Gol—nothing else matters,” he said, eyes intense and dark. “I would do anything for you.” He dropped my hands to cup my face. The kiss he planted on my lips was deep and hungry.
I found myself on the driver’s side, my legs on either side of Majid’s body as we kissed.
My skirt rode all the way to the top of my thighs.
He began kissing my neck, moving from my lips to the sensitive spot just below my ear.
One of his hands lightly gripped my backside, the other gently caressing my cheek.
I shivered into him, saying his name into the night.
Majid paused for breath.
“I thought you wanted to wait until you could ask my father for my hand?” I said as I impatiently unbuttoned his jacket. I threw it onto the back seat. “Which, if he knew what you were, he’d never agree to.”
Underneath his uniform, he wore a white undershirt, and I ran my hand along his chest and then down his arms, feeling his strength.
The way this Zain studied me in this moment was like I was his salvation, his lips parted and red, bruised from our kissing.
This soldier completely undone by our kiss.
“Do you want to wait?” he asked.
“No, but I’m curious about your change of heart.”
He exhaled. “You drive me mad, that’s why. It’s hard to push for waiting when you make me feel this way.”
I smiled at his words. “Good, that’s good.”
Slowly—much slower than I with him—he unbuttoned my dress. We eventually found ourselves in the back seat, and he hovered over me while I lay beneath him.
“Are you sure about this?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I said with certainty. I was not sure of much, other than that this was what I wanted, right now, no matter the consequences.