Chapter 27
27
‘I haven’t ridden a bike in years,’ I squealed as Karim threatened to let go of the handlebars completely. ‘Keep hold of me!’
It was Sunday, and we were riding Boris Bikes in Hyde Park. I’d shortened my shifts at Selfridges, so I was able to sneak in some time with Karim before I was expected to be home. Although this was only our second date, we were constantly texting or FaceTiming each other now, and it all felt so natural.
Even in tapered jeans and a simple white T-shirt, Karim emanated a sophisticated aura. He’d donned Ray-Bans and a black Gucci cap, and we’d found a secluded pathway scattered with towering trees; no one had spotted him, and it was so quiet here it almost felt as though we had the entire park to ourselves.
‘We aren’t far from my place,’ Karim said, a glint in his eye. ‘Perhaps we could go pick up the tricycle I used when I was five?’
I laughed out loud, attempted to smack his arm, and then squealed again as the bike shifted too much to the left. He helped me regain my balance and kept me upright while I pedalled.
The way my near-falls made my heart dive had nothing on what his mere presence did to me. Around him, I felt giddy. As though every second I was falling deeper into something I’d never rise from, and would never want to, because there was none of the darkness or pain I was used to waiting for me at the bottom. With Karim, there was only light and happiness.
‘My brother taught me how to ride a bike in our local park when I was ten,’ I told him, ‘but I haven’t ridden one since then, so I guess –’
I let out an unladylike yelp as my left foot slipped right off the pedal.
‘Don’t worry, I’ve got you,’ Karim whispered, coming closer, surrounding me with his signature scent of rich, leathery oud.
I breathed in deeply, savouring it. Our eyes connected in a flurry of heat and anticipation, our mouths dangerously close.
‘You’re easily distracted, aren’t you?’ he murmured, and I noticed the way his eyes swooped to my lips.
‘Only when you’re around,’ I replied, quickly looking away, my heartbeat frantic.
It still alarmed me how open I’d become with Karim. The Zara who spoke for hours about things as meaningless and meaningful as the foods I liked to eat, the places I hoped to visit someday, the way my favourite music made me feel …
Despite all our differences, he somehow understood me. And maybe I understood him too. The real him that the world didn’t get to see, that he’d told me even his friends barely got to see any more. There was so much about his life that had turned out to be different from what I’d expected. A lot of the time, he felt just like me: alone even when he was surrounded by people.
‘You can do it,’ he urged, easing his grip again. ‘I’m barely even holding you up. It’s all in your head. I’ll let go a little now.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ I warned. ‘I need you to hold tight.’
Karim wound his arm around my waist and squeezed gently over the fabric of my blue T-shirt, his fingertips dipping into the sensitive skin on the side of my stomach. ‘Like this?’
His hand, slowly stretching upwards, caressed me so smoothly that I found myself arching into his touch.
These were experienced hands that knew exactly where to touch, the places to spark sensation. These hands had touched the beautiful Chloe Clark, in places a lot less innocent …
A mix of discomfort and jealousy shot through me, and I stiffened suddenly. He suddenly went from being Just Karim to being The Karim Malik – world-famous influencer, my celebrity crush, an Ex. He must have sensed my unease because he immediately backed off.
‘Shall we do something else?’ he asked quickly, holding the bike steady as I got off.
I’d already told him I’d never been in a relationship before and was quite closed off with boys because of the religious and cultural values I’d been raised with. He’d been perfectly respectful of that, had said we didn’t need to rush anything, and we planned to move at a speed that worked for both of us. But somehow it still felt like … I wasn’t giving enough.
Chloe Clark had given him everything: it was all too easy to remember those clips of him kissing her deeply, touching her openly, going on dates in luxurious places abroad, attending extravagant events with very public displays of affection. And here I was: seventeen, sneaking out for a simple park date, totally inexperienced with guys.
And not even entirely sure if I was interested in becoming more experienced at this point in my life …
I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but then closed it again, at a loss for words.
He gave me a knowing look, almost as though he could sense my inner turmoil, and took my hand.
‘Let’s take a walk,’ he said warmly. ‘It’s a gloriously sunny day in London, and you know what that means – we make the most of every minute.’