Page 73 of Deeper

Paul jumped out of the SUV and was quick to go in search of Zander’s cousin, leaving us behind to wait.

In the rearview mirror, Zander’s eyes found me. “I’m sorry about this.”

I frowned at his discomfort. “Don’t be. He’s your best friend, right?”

“Rajaa’s nicer than Nazanin for sure,” Zander insisted. “She flew back last week upset, and now that you’re still very much in the picture, I’m more worried about her sending Rajaa here as a spy.

I unbuckled my seat belt, going and leaning between the driver and passenger seats. “Well then, let’s give him something to report back about.”

I gave Zander a quick smooch, leaving him wanting more as he came forward and kissed me longer, deeper, slower—in only the way Zander could.

This was just what he needed in the end, to settle his nerves and tension from his phone call with Nazanin.

“He’s back!”

The loud sound of Paul’s voice echoed throughout the parking deck, pulling our attention out the window where Paul and a young man were approaching the SUV. Together, Zander and I climbed out to properly greet Rajaa. He was a shade lighter than Zander, and he had hazel eyes. His wavy hair was long enough to where he had it in a secured bun at the nape of his neck, and his five o’clock shadow said he hadn’t shaved in a day or two. His awkward, trembling smile let me know he was the quiet type, that and the way he simply tipped his head towards us as he and Paul came to a stop in front of us.

“Over ten hours, enjoy your flight?” Zander asked after he went forth and hugged Rajaa.

Rajaa shrugged. “It was okay.”

His accent was almost identical to Zander’s, just like Nazanin’s.

Zander took a step back and gestured to me. “This is my new girlfriend, Bianka. Bianka, this is my cousin, and best friend, Rajaa Khalil.”

Rajaa extended his hand and we shook, and I took in how much larger his hand was than mine, how warm and strong it felt too. Rajaa was also on the tall side, making me feel tiny. “Nice to meet you.”

Zander pocketed his hands, liking how things were going and how friendly his cousin was in comparison to his draconian sister.

“Rajaa!” Paul reached over and shook Rajaa’s shoulders. “You’re my favorite member of the Khalil family, ya wanna know why?”

Rajaa seemed shy under the spotlight. “Why?”

“Because you’re the only one of these motherfuckers who isn’t crazy.”

Zander snorted. “I’mcrazy?”

Paul deadpanned. “Did you not cancel a tour and jump into a relationship in the same night? Yeah, you’re crazy, as crazy as my dick.”

“Just say you have herpes, Paul,” I jumped in.

Rajaa and Zander laughed and Paul managed to grin. “I might like you.”

On the way back to Zander’s home, we stopped and grabbed Chipotle. It was one of Rajaa’s favorite places to eat in America, and I liked how low-key that was for him, and Zander especially who was quick to co-sign the chain. One of my favorite restaurants to go to growing up was Olive Garden. It was a place my mother and I would go to for a girls’ day, and while some called it the basic bitch of restaurants, I still loved the place—or, at least, the idea. I hadn’t been to an Olive Garden since my mother had passed.

A lot had changed in five years.

“I’m not here to step on your toes or anything,” Rajaa assured me as we all sat crowded around the coffee table eating our food. He was looking at me, holding his hand out for my attention. “Saad’s working on a new album, and I’m just here to help ease the load so the process goes smoothly.”

Saad. I liked Zander’s family name.

“What do you do?” I asked.

“I’m in uni,” Rajaa informed me. “I wanna be an English professor.”

“That’s cool.” English hadn’t been my best subject in school, unless we were assigned a book I actually liked, or a topic to write on that I was passionate about.

“What do you do?” Rajaa asked me next.

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