Page 53 of The Love Match

Because until he’s out of the picture for good, Amma willnevergive Nayim a chance.

Chapter20

Harun and I stay upplotting well into the night, switching back over from furtive whispers to texting when Nanu enters the room with leftover mishti to cheer me up.

By the time I fall asleep, phone clutched in my fingers and dried tear tracks on my cheeks, I’m less panicked, or maybe too tired to be.

Unfortunately, that only leaves me a few hours to rest before I’m woken up by Nanu for Fajr at sunrise. The familiar motions and words help clear my head. Rather than contemplate a nap, I decide to escape to work extra early when I hear Amma puttering around in the kitchen, not wanting another confrontation.

Perhaps Allah hears my prayers, because we end up closed for inventory at Chai Ho. We’ve been enlisted to cater dessert for the forthcoming Bangladeshi community picnic on Garret Mountain, known colloquially as “the hill,” and Mr. Tahir wants to make sure we have enough stock to feed everyone attending.

I like doing inventory. Mr. Tahir leaves me and the girls to it while he goes on a supply run to the giant Patel Brothers in Edison, which means we spend the day getting paid to chat. Ximena usually pops by but didn’t pick up when Dani called to invite her.

“She’s always too busy for me lately,” Dani whines, rummaging despondently through the shop’s collection of tea bags. “If it wasn’t bad enough that we’re going to colleges in different states, she’s spending all her time at the wheelhouse this summer. Do you think she’s going to dump me for some hot home-wrecker artist?”

I flick the back of her currently teal head as I walk past. “Mena wouldnevercheat.”

“She’s probably prepping for art school,” Dalia adds, ignoring her sister’s indignant squawk. “Not everyone’s undeclared like you, Dan. She has to get a portfolio ready for her professors.”

Rubbing her wound dramatically, Dani concedes that we’re probably right, and the Ximena problem is set aside for the time being.

Nayim, however…

Nayim is here.

My gut clenches every time he smiles at me with that expectant gleam in his honey eyes. I resist his every attempt to get me alone, not yet ready to talk to him about what went down with Amma last night after he left or the plan I’ve concocted with Harun, in case he thinks it won’t workor decides I’m not worth the effort, after all.

Soon the smile melts away, and he looks hurt and confused by my chilliness.Thatbreaks my heart too. God, what I wouldn’t give to spare him more pain.

The bells above the bolted front door jangle as someone tries the knob. Without looking away from the spices and clipboard I have spread out in front of me, I shout, “We’re closed, sorry. Come back tomorrow.”

“Uh, Zar,” Dalia says.

“What?” I ask, jotting down amounts of turmeric.

“Isn’t that—”

“—your fake boyfriend?” finishes Dani.

My head whips up so fast, I almost break my neck. Despite my hopes that the twins were pulling my leg, there Harun is, in all his curly-haired glory, lingering outside the shop with his arms crossed over a black T-shirt, a familiar surly expression on his face.

Vaulting out of my chair, I throw the door open and blurt, “It’s Thursday.”

He blinks. “I… know?”

Upon closer inspection, he’s less incensed than intrigued. He shifts from foot to foot in white joggers and black sneakers with the Nike logo across the sides as he glances past my shoulder into the shop, dark eyes unobstructed by his glasses for once. The faint notes of a Fetty Wap rap drift from his AirPods.

I poke his chest and hiss, “Don’t act likeI’mthe weird onehere, robot boy. Our date’s not till tomorrow. They’realwayson Fridays.”

“I know that,” he mutters. “It’s just, I usually grab coffee on my morning runs, and I was worried about you after yesterday, so I thought I’d check on you. Two birds, one stone.”

Some of my ire diminishes as I take in the way he shuffles his sneakers, clearly embarrassed by his own concern. Sometime during our plotting session last night, he pressed me about whether I’d be okay at work and I made an offhand comment about him trying our drinks, but I didn’t think he’d show up so soon.

Didn’t think he would beworriedabout me.

In spite of everything going on, I grin up at him impishly. He glowers as if he can read my mind, then adds with a smirk, “Besides, if you’re going to be breaking my heart, shouldn’t I at least get to meet the guy you’re dumping me for? Gotta make sure your Prince Charming isn’t a dragon in disguise, princess.”

It’s my turn to scowl, though I still find this protective big brother act oddly adorable. I cross my arms. “Too bad, ’cause we’re closed today. You’ll have to come back.”

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