Other Side

26 | Alone Together

Fahed's palm slammed against the marble countertop. "Wallahi, you talk more than my three younger sisters combined. Just leave the girl alone, will you? She's clearly not interested."

"Fair enough," he said, shrugging. Walking backwards to the door, he called out, "Enjoy the rest of your day, birthday boy!"

Fahed heaved out an irate breath the moment the door banged shut. "Do we really need a fucking roommate, Zaid? He's not even worth the fifteen-hundred he pays per month."

"That's not true," Zaid said. The rest of the statement almost made Talia spit out her drink. "I'd lower the cut-off to about five-hundred."

After a bout of laughter, Talia finally cut in. "Okay, wait. Can I ask a question?"

They responded in unison, "What?"

"How did you two meet?" She alternated her gaze between both their tan, angular faces, hating that she found each of them attractive in their own way—Fahed's gruffness a stark contrast to Zaid's class. Absolutely the fuck not, Talia. "I need some context for this friendship."

"Oh, it's simple, actually," Fahed said, folding his arms over his black sweater, flashy watch on display. "We bonded over our mutual hatred of a Lebanese classmate our first year of high school, and it's been smooth sailing since."

She blinked, finding that sentiment not that hard to believe at the core, but Zaid cut in before she could question the validity of the story.

"He's just being an ass. We didn't hate anyone in high school."

"Speak for yourself," Fahed grumbled. His hard features softened after a few moments, noticing her patient expression. "Alright, Talia, the true story is I moved back to Jordan at fourteen after spending most of my childhood in the Gulf, and Zaid was the first one not to treat me like an alien at our stuffy private school. Truth be told...he soon became the brother I never had."

"Same here," Zaid mumbled, although he actually had one. After guzzling the last of his drink, he brushed the imaginary dust off his hands and walked to the other side of the counter. His gaze stopped on her legs, making her own follow its path, until she noticed how high her skirt had ridden up, the darker black mesh of her tights peeking out of the hemline. He turned to his friend and gave him a firm pat on the back. "Do you mind handing the apartment over to us for the rest of the afternoon? I'm sure Paul is getting a little lonely out there."

When three became two, two breaths became one. Zaid buried his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back, releasing a bout of pent-up fervor on her lips. When his face disconnected, his hand stayed where it was, sinful gaze seeming to undress her from head to toe.

Talia fought a self-satisfied smirk and uncrossed her legs slowly, right then left. "Would you have let me go to that party if I'd wanted to?"

A small vein ticked in his forehead. "What does it matter, Talia?"

"Because I don't like people controlling me," she whispered, mouth at his ear, "unless...it's in bed."

A moment later, her backside met a place a little harder than a bed, hitting the surface of the countertop behind her. Zaid planted his palms on her thighs, fingertips just slipping under the hemline of her skirt, and rested his forehead on hers. She slid her icy hand up the back of his sweater, nails just gliding over his skin.

"Don't tempt me," he grumbled, squeezing her flesh.

"Or what?" She buried the fingers of her other hand into the ends of his hair and pulled his head back up. "I'll get this side of you? Not a terrible deal, if you ask me."