of most of the couched seating areas.
There was a band playing on stage. They were singing in Arabic, but for the second time that evening, Amie realized she didn’t need to understand the words to appreciate the performance.
After speaking with the host, Malik got them a table away from the crowded interior, on the expansive patio, where brick pillars housed oversized lanterns and low-set tables were surrounded by long wooden benches for seating. Bright pillows covered each seat and added to the fun and flirty ambiance.
Amie and Malik sat down on a small loveseat, sipping gin and tonics as they nestled up beside each other.
“I like translating for you,” Malik said with a smile, watching Amie as she pulled her hair into a high set ponytail.
“Translate this song for me then?” she said cutely, leaning into his chest as she inched closer to his body.
“Okay, okay.” He put a finger to his mouth as he strained to hear the lyrics from inside the club; squinting and frowning as if to exaggerate how hard he was concentrating. “They’re saying…” he paused. “They’re saying ‘I want to pet a million cats.’”
Amie burst into a fit of tipsy laughter and pushed Malik gently. “No, they’re not!”
“They are, I swear it!” He smiled, unable to stop chuckling at her reaction. “Would I lie?”
“I don’t know,” she narrowed her eyes playfully and moved closer.
Malik stared at her for a moment longer before leaning back into the chair, sighing tiredly.
“Would you?” She stared ahead, her back to Malik’s chest as she waited for his answer. Finally, she turned and look at him with a wry smile. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” she stammered.
“I’m not nervous,” he said, raising his brow with a smile.
“I know,” she giggled. “But you’re still cute when you are!”
“You’re drunk,” he smiled.
“Nu-uh!”
But he was right, of course.
Amie had never gotten properly buzzed around Malik. Her faced flushed; she hoped she was being a lady. Still, the more she looked at him, the more she inwardly dared herself to touch his face; to stroke it like they did in the movies. She liked him.
A lot.
Every time he touched her she felt consumed by lust. His hands were so soft and strong; his voice was absolutely perfect, and she hung on every word he said. Why… why… why! Why choose to care for him now, when he was an admitted player and she had only four days left in Rabayat to be with him.
“Malik,” she said quietly, tapping his chin with her finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your family these past few weeks. By that I mean mostly you,” she paused. “And not Zafina.”
Malik gave a laugh and smiled at her. “So have I,” he chuckled out.
“I know, but…” she paused, sitting up straight so she could look at him properly. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. You’ve opened up to me like few people ever have. When you showed me your favorite places, and the statue of the couple, and all these movies… It just…”
Don’t .
“Well, it just…”
Amie, don’t be an idiot!
“It made me really, well, like you.”
Her eyes went wide as soon as she heard herself say the words, and suddenly she found herself setting down her glass and playing with her hair, solely to avoid making eye contact with him.
Feeling the sudden need to backtrack, she shrugged and tried to explain. “Even though I know…” She raised an eyebrow with a tipsy, hollow laugh. “Of course I know that this whole thing is just an act. I know we’re just ‘acting’,” she said using finger quotes. “You know, so you can go back and have like, fifty girlfriends without upsetting anybody. I know you like your freedom, and I respect that, but I guess I just wanted to say that… well, you charmed me.”
Suddenly
There was a band playing on stage. They were singing in Arabic, but for the second time that evening, Amie realized she didn’t need to understand the words to appreciate the performance.
After speaking with the host, Malik got them a table away from the crowded interior, on the expansive patio, where brick pillars housed oversized lanterns and low-set tables were surrounded by long wooden benches for seating. Bright pillows covered each seat and added to the fun and flirty ambiance.
Amie and Malik sat down on a small loveseat, sipping gin and tonics as they nestled up beside each other.
“I like translating for you,” Malik said with a smile, watching Amie as she pulled her hair into a high set ponytail.
“Translate this song for me then?” she said cutely, leaning into his chest as she inched closer to his body.
“Okay, okay.” He put a finger to his mouth as he strained to hear the lyrics from inside the club; squinting and frowning as if to exaggerate how hard he was concentrating. “They’re saying…” he paused. “They’re saying ‘I want to pet a million cats.’”
Amie burst into a fit of tipsy laughter and pushed Malik gently. “No, they’re not!”
“They are, I swear it!” He smiled, unable to stop chuckling at her reaction. “Would I lie?”
“I don’t know,” she narrowed her eyes playfully and moved closer.
Malik stared at her for a moment longer before leaning back into the chair, sighing tiredly.
“Would you?” She stared ahead, her back to Malik’s chest as she waited for his answer. Finally, she turned and look at him with a wry smile. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” she stammered.
“I’m not nervous,” he said, raising his brow with a smile.
“I know,” she giggled. “But you’re still cute when you are!”
“You’re drunk,” he smiled.
“Nu-uh!”
But he was right, of course.
Amie had never gotten properly buzzed around Malik. Her faced flushed; she hoped she was being a lady. Still, the more she looked at him, the more she inwardly dared herself to touch his face; to stroke it like they did in the movies. She liked him.
A lot.
Every time he touched her she felt consumed by lust. His hands were so soft and strong; his voice was absolutely perfect, and she hung on every word he said. Why… why… why! Why choose to care for him now, when he was an admitted player and she had only four days left in Rabayat to be with him.
“Malik,” she said quietly, tapping his chin with her finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and your family these past few weeks. By that I mean mostly you,” she paused. “And not Zafina.”
Malik gave a laugh and smiled at her. “So have I,” he chuckled out.
“I know, but…” she paused, sitting up straight so she could look at him properly. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. You’ve opened up to me like few people ever have. When you showed me your favorite places, and the statue of the couple, and all these movies… It just…”
Don’t .
“Well, it just…”
Amie, don’t be an idiot!
“It made me really, well, like you.”
Her eyes went wide as soon as she heard herself say the words, and suddenly she found herself setting down her glass and playing with her hair, solely to avoid making eye contact with him.
Feeling the sudden need to backtrack, she shrugged and tried to explain. “Even though I know…” She raised an eyebrow with a tipsy, hollow laugh. “Of course I know that this whole thing is just an act. I know we’re just ‘acting’,” she said using finger quotes. “You know, so you can go back and have like, fifty girlfriends without upsetting anybody. I know you like your freedom, and I respect that, but I guess I just wanted to say that… well, you charmed me.”
Suddenly
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