Poinsettia Lane

Chapter Twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

ANOTHER THING EVERLY hadn’t accounted for was Asim not having any dry clothes to wear. He steps into the kitchen with a towel precariously wrapped around his waist, looking as though one quick turn would drop it to the floor. Everly’s breath stutters and she pauses, having just been walking into the kitchen herself from the other direction, and eyes it with anticipation, brain screaming for the towel to do it. Just let go . Fall to the floor, it’ll be more comfy there anyways. That towel doesn’t even know what it has; it certainly can’t appreciate it the way Everly could.

A throat clears above her, interrupting her silent argument with the towel, and Everly’s eyes flash up to Asim’s, her face already burning. He keeps catching her staring at him, and although it’s embarrassing, she obviously doesn't care enough to learn a lesson from it. His mouth captures her attention next as it curves into a playful grin, and she licks her lip, remembering what it felt like to kiss him just a few minutes ago.

They snap out of it when a wet plop splits the air. Everly forgot she had her soaked clothes in her hands; she was on her way to put them in the washing machine when Asim walked in and her fingers ceased functioning. He looks down at the muddy mess and his smile grows wider. Bending down, he scoops them up and adds them to his pile, not at all bothered to be touching her wet, very dirty, clothing. Everly blinks in consternation; no one she knows would ever do anything that has happened to either of them so far today, except maybe Frankie who can be unpredictable at the best of times, and she’s not sure what that means about her life.

“Washer?” he asks.

“Yeah," Everly’s voice croaks, sounding more like a frog than a word, and she swallows hard. Waving him to follow her and taking the excuse to compose herself with some steady breathing, they walk to the laundry room and toss the whole wet mess in, then start a quick wash cycle.

Everly turns and eyes Asim up and down, he cocks one eyebrow at her.

“I don’t think I have anything that will fit you," she says. “Except maybe my robe…” She trails off, imagining for a second him wearing her robe, which results in a very unladylike snort emanating from her nose as she tucks her lips into her teeth.

Now both of his brows go up. “What, you don’t think I could pull it off?” he jokes.

“I mean...” Everly lets the sentence hang, silently challenging him.

“Let’s see it then," Asim says, crossing his arms over his chest and jutting his chin back the way they came, indicating for her to lead the way.

Everly laughs, telling him to wait in the kitchen while she runs back upstairs to grab it. As she brings it back down, she schools her face into what she hopes is an innocent expression and passes it over to him.

“Turn around," he says, voice rumbling as one hand waits, resting on the towel.

Everly really doesn’t want to, but she gives him the privacy he asks for. A moment later, she hears his “okay” letting her know he’s changed. She takes in a breath as she slowly twists, intending to be a mature adult about this, but as soon as she gets an eyeful of him wearing her fluffy pink robe, she absolutely loses it. Everly’s lips pinch shut for a split second before she snaps and howls her laughter, and Asim cracks up too.

“Yeah, I’m not sure this covers more than the towel," he says.

At six feet tall, he’s got eight inches on her and at least a hundred pounds. He’s taller, wider, and significantly thicker than she is. As a result, the long-sleeved pink robe that hits her just above the knees looks absolutely ludicrous on him. The shoulders don’t fit, the sleeves only make it to the middle of his forearms, it barely ties closed around his hips, and it definitely hits above mid-thigh, hardly covering that ass she would so very much like to see.

Everly covers her mouth with both hands, attempting to stifle her laughter. Asim waves his hands in a circle at her, signaling she should get it all out now. He rolls his eyes, but his expression is all amusement. When she’s able to compose herself, Everly wipes the tears from her eyes and beckons him over to the counter.

“Wow, sorry," she says. “I knew what I was getting into, but I didn’t really know—” She flings her hand out at him, eyes jumping from one ridiculous view to the next, but she manages to stop the laughter before it can begin again.

“Luckily, my masculinity isn’t threatened by a beautiful woman laughing at me for wearing a very pink robe.” Asim jokes and Everly bites her lip while smiling back, silently agreeing with him. Too many men would have been offended by that reaction.

Everly offers him a drink, making her signature Manhattan for him as well and snagging hers from earlier. They meander into the living room while they wait for their clothes to finish in the wash, setting their drinks on the coffee table by the couch. Everly lights a candle and brown sugar, coconut and soft vanilla emanate through the room with a hint of charred wood. She inhales, letting the calming scents wash over her.

Asim lounges on the couch, and Everly makes to sit on the cushion next to his, intending to leave a polite amount of space between them on account of his awkward clothing situation, when he leans over and captures her hips, pulling her close and snuggling her in right next to him. Everly sighs, happy and content, warm and comfortable as she tucks her legs up underneath her and leans into his solid strength.

“Ever,” he says, capturing her attention. “I really like you.” Asim pauses, eyes searching hers. Everly swallows hard, but doesn’t look away. “I haven’t had a serious relationship in a while, but I want that with you. Whatever you want to call it—dating, boyfriend, I’ll be anything you want me to be, but I want to be yours.”

Everly stares. She forgets to blink, forgets to breathe, forgets to think.

“Everly," he says her name again, stern this time as he tips her head so he can look at her more directly. She remembers how to blink, but the rest doesn’t come back quite yet. “Don’t panic. Take a breath. I think you feel the same way, but even if you don’t, whatever you’re feeling is okay. I don’t want to put any pressure or expectations on you, but I do want you to know how I feel.”

Taking a shaky breath, she looks away from his mesmerizing eyes so her brain can hopefully start to function again, and they catch on the soft pink color of the robe he’s still wearing. Cracking up at the absurdity of the situation, of being told by a very attractive man in a very serious tone how much he likes her while said man is dressed in her tiny robe, she wraps her arms around her waist and folds herself over her knees in an attempt to contain the intense dichotomy of emotions going through her.

Is she laughing or crying right now? Hard to tell, probably both. It’s like tossing boiling water into dry ice, or hearing a rooster call at bedtime. They just don’t go together, and yet somehow that’s her reality right now.

“It’s the robe, isn’t it? Kinda distorted the message a bit?” Asim says after she’s started to catch her breath again, wry amusement lacing his tone.

“It’s just,” she pauses, unsure of how to put her chaotic feelings into words, “everything, I guess.” It’s a cop out, but she’s beyond anything more at this point.

Everly takes a slow breath and feels him match her action. She turns inward and reflects on his words, realizing when he said whatever she’s feeling is okay, that somehow those words penetrated her foggy brain when nothing else did. She does feel the same, and she wants him to be hers. She also wants to be his.

Everly looks back up at him.

“I want to be yours too," she says, and his entire being lights up.

He cups her face in his hands and leans down, gifting her with a tender kiss, then tucks her up against him again while he pulls his phone out and orders dinner to be delivered.

~~~

When the washing machine buzzer sounds, Asim untangles himself from her.

“Stay there, I’ll toss everything in the dryer and be right back," he says.

Everly doesn’t mind the view of him walking away, especially in that short robe. His taut thighs are on display, and her eyes run down his legs. Does he have to have amazing calves too? Everly scoffs, wondering if there is anything about this man that isn’t attractive. Naturally, this leads to thoughts of what lies beneath the bathrobe, and she’d be willing to bet that’s just as gorgeous and enticing as the rest of him.

She smoothes out her face when he returns, pretending she wasn’t just thinking about the few parts of him not covered by the robe. Asim holds up two bags; their food arrived while he was changing the laundry. They unload box after box of food onto the coffee table and Everly turns skeptical eyes on Asim.

“Did you get one of each?” she says, eyebrows aiming for her hairline as she scans the plethora of Chinese take-out.

“I didn’t know what you like, so… yeah, kinda.” Asim scratches the back of his head, and Everly sighs at how adorable the bashful look is on him.

“Okay, well, I was kidding, but that’s very sweet. Next time you could just ask, though.” She pokes his ribs and he snatches her fingers, bringing them to his mouth and nibbling on her fingertips.

“Or I’ll skip food altogether and taste you instead," he says, eyes darkening again as he intentionally flicks them down her body.

Everly’s face heats and she splutters before turning away, pleased with his attention but unsure of how to respond to it. She continues her quest of unloading the entire restaurant onto the coffee table when Asim’s arms come around her and he nibbles along her ear next, before pushing her hair to the side and nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Is this okay?” he asks, lips moving against her skin, and Everly nods, not trusting that her voice won’t sound like a frog again. She angles her head to give him better access.

“You wreck me, you know that?” His voice is low, suggestive.

“What do you mean?” Everly pauses again, tensing in anticipation against him.

“Everything you do turns me on, Ever.” He growls, his husky voice a rough whisper against her ear. “When you blush, I want to strip your clothes off to see how far down your body it goes. Your beautiful eyes smoldering at me, your silken hair that I want to tangle my fingers in, that laugh. My god that laugh. I could be happy hearing only your laugh for the rest of my life. The way you throw yourself into things whole-heartedly with full dedication. And your body.” He groans, readjusting himself behind her.

“I could keep going, but let’s leave it at that for now, yeah? I’ve already nearly scared you away once today.”

Everly’s breathing is jagged, and she feels his deep inhale before he strokes her hair once, then pulls away. She doesn’t know what to say because her brain is misfiring again, but she feels all those same things about him. His smile, his laugh, his stunning eyes and gentle soul. She wants to drown in him, but she doesn’t know how to put it into words like he can.

Asim takes some sort of hint from the undoubtedly desperate look in her eyes.

“You need me to ask?” he says, referencing their conversation about her anxiety from the boat date. Everly nods.

“Do you like what I said? How I feel about you?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “I do.”

“And do you feel the same way about me?”

Everly bites her lip and nods again. “I really do, I just don’t know how to say all those nice things like you did.”

Asim doesn’t seem to need that type of response though; he scoots around next to her, kisses her temple, then helps her dish out the food, sending a sideways smile her way as he does so. Everly’s lips twitch up in response, and they dig in.

“So, crab rangoons are the winner here?” Asim asks a few minutes later.

Everly laughs. “I do love rangoons. Only if they have crab meat in them though, the plain cream cheese ones aren’t worth the calories.”

Asim squints at her when she mentions the calories, a spring roll hovering halfway to his mouth. Quickly she moves on, because that’s not a conversation she wants to have with him tonight. She likes her body, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t mindful of what she puts in it. Most men just don’t get it.

“What’s your favorite?” she asks.

“I’m partial to egg rolls for an appetizer, but I love egg drop soup and a classic Kung Pao.”

“What about your native foods?” Everly has been curious to learn more about his culture.

“Which are my favorites?” Asim clarifies and she nods, mouth full of rich peking duck. “That’s an impossible question.” He laughs, one hand flaring out like a stop-sign.

“If you haven’t had Middle Eastern food, you probably won’t recognize any of them," he warns, but Everly doesn’t care. She wants to learn, so she looks at him patiently, eyebrows raised.

“Let’s see, if I had to pick one it would probably be tepsi baytinijan, it’s different depending on who makes it, but it’s similar to a casserole crossed with stew. My mom’s recipe has lamb meatballs and veggies, it’s very good with the spices she adds. For sweet foods… that one’s tough.” He pauses, thinking. “Maybe daheen, or muhallebi. Daheen is textured, kind of like a fudgy cake, but flavored with dates and nuts, very sweet. I like it best with coconut on top. Muhallebi is a cold dessert. It’s made with milk and sugar, like pudding with fruits or nuts on top. Zerde is good too, it’s normally reserved for special occasions though.”

“You have a sweet tooth?” Everly asks, laughing. She didn’t picture him as the type of guy to enjoy sweets so much, but based on the sermon he just gave, he definitely does.

Asim grins back at her. “I always have. My mother used to despair that I’d never grow big and strong, but I don’t think they held me back all that much.” He gives himself a pointed look and raises an eyebrow at her questioningly.

“No, I don’t think they did," Everly agrees.

They finish only a small portion of the food he ordered and when the clothes are dry, Asim gets dressed, returning her robe to her. He helps her pack up the leftovers and Everly insists he take some home with him, on account of the fact that there’s no way she can eat that much food on her own in the next few days.

Asim treats her to a toe-curling good night kiss before he steps outside, waiting on the porch again until he hears the lock click behind him. Everly leans back against the door with a dreamy sigh, fingers touching her lips as though she can hold his kiss there forever.