Page 26 of Poinsettia Lane

“Sure, that would be great.” Asim slams the shovel down into the grass again, and her eyes catch on his arms with the movement. She doesn’t even notice she hasn’t moved yet until he stops. Everly glances up at his face only to see the satisfied half-smile is back, and a flush takes over her cheeks at the look he casts her way.

“Right!” Everly doesn’t mean to yell, but her body is out of control right now and she startles herself with how loudly she says it. Her eyes flare impossibly wider, and with a little jump, she turns and flees into the house, fairly certain she hears him chuckling behind her as she goes.

~~~

When she gets to the kitchen, Everly rests some ice on her neck in an attempt to cool her reaction to him, though she tells herself the hard work is the main contributor to her overheated body. She gives herself a little pep talk as she cools off. There is no reason to freak out; it’s obvious they are both attracted to each other, and she can take this at her own pace. She’s made a fool of herself plenty already, so Asim knows what he’s getting into, and yet he’s chosen to be here regardless. Wiping her brow with a damp paper towel, she leans against the counter and takes a few steadying breaths.

When she returns with fresh iced waters, he has most of the grass out of the top terrace already, and it’s clear from the sweat on his brow he’s been working hard. Everly suggests a break, so they both flop onto her patio furniture and he downs half the glass in one gulp.

“I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard," Everly says, voice rueful as she looks at him from the corner of her eye.

Asim laughs and Everly smiles into her glass, having accomplished her goal of hearing it again. She crosses one leg over the other to stop them from bouncing and shaking the table between them.

“I’m used to hard work, so don’t worry about it," he says. “I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Everly sets her glass down and traces patterns in the condensation with the tip of her finger, collecting the cool water droplets along her skin before they drip down onto the table. She’s not normally the best at talking to others, and this would typically feel awkward for her. Although it is a little uncomfortable at times, she attributes that to her normal level of anxiety that makes just about everything uncomfortable.

Overall, today has been… nice. Really nice. She doesn’t feel pressured by him in any way. She doesn’t feel like she has to fill the silences, or say certain things, or act a certain way, or even treat him in any particular way like she does with most other people. It’s refreshing, and Everly feels lighter just being around him.

Asim’s phone rings, interrupting her musing, and he pulls it out of his pocket. Glancing at the screen before locking eyes with her, “It’s my mom, do you mind?”

Everly shakes her head and he stands as he answers.

“Alo, Mama.” Asim smiles at whatever his mom says, then takes a few steps away from Everly as he begins speaking in Arabic. He darts a sheepish look her way at one point, and Everly wonders what they’re talking about. After speaking with her for a few minutes he shakes his head and hangs up, the corners of his mouth tilted up and a twinkle in his eye as he walks back over to her.

“All good?” Everly asks.

“Yes,” Asim chuckles, “my mother is a busy body. Always wants to make sure I’m taking care of myself, and I made the mistake of telling her I was helping you out today.”

“Why is that a mistake?” She tries not to feel hurt by his implication.

“Ah, I spoke poorly. It was a mistake telling her I was helping out a young lady with a big project, because now she won’t let me hear the end of it and thinks grand-babies are on the horizon.” Asim quirks a smile when Everly’s face flushes. “You, on the other hand, are not at all a mistake.”

Everly averts her eyes from his steady, sparkling gaze, unsure how to react to his words. He’s so intense sometimes, but in a mellow way. Which doesn’t make any sense, except that with him it somehow does. She clears her throat in the hopes it will clear her head as well.

“So, what’s next?” Everly asks. “Now that the grass is out of the top terrace, is it time to plant?”

“I’m thinking it would be best to wait," Asim explains, “We’ll need to replace the topsoil, and having some quality compost on hand to mix in when we planteverything would be beneficial too.”

He scrubs a hand across his chin as his eyes take in the mess before them. Everly holds in a grimace, hoping it doesn’t look as much of a disaster to him as it does to her.

“I’m thinking we spend a little more time tearing up the grass on the lower terrace today, and then pick up there tomorrow. The shop isn’t too busy yet as it’s still a bit early for the spring rush, so my employees will be fine without me. I’ll bring the truck over with a few bags of topsoil and compost tomorrow, that way I can take care of the sod too and you won’t have to worry about it.”

A bit flabbergasted that he’s so invested in what wasn’t even a real project in the first place, Everly agrees, even though she doesn’t want him to leave so soon—despite already feeling exhausted and dreading the sore muscles she’s sure to have tomorrow. She’s quickly realizing she can’t get enough of him.

~~~

A few hours later, she’s freshly showered and sitting in her living room in front of the crackling fireplace with Frankie, and she is straight up gushing. Everly can’t shut her mouth. She knows she’s talking too much, and that it has been entirely about her afternoon with Asim, and yet she can’t stop. Frankie was initially shocked, with wide eyes that barely blinked for minutes on end as Everly blathered on and on, and then they appeared to get used to it and realize this is their new reality. They settled in for the long haul and are now sitting with their legs stretched out, feet in Everly’s lap while she absentmindedly massages them as she talks, ignoring Frankie’s suggestive moaning when she kneads the arch.

Eventually her voice slows down, and Everly catches up with the current situation, realizing she’s likely just talked for longer than she ever has in her entire life. Her face turns a little pink and she purses her lips, tucking her chin down into her chest and focusing on Frankie’s feet.

“Well then," Frankie says when she finally stops speaking. They blink their eyes dramatically and pretendto wake up from a nap, raising their eyebrows and biting their lip to hold back a smile. “Hi. I guess you’re good.”

Everly throws her head back and laughs. She is good, and she doesn’t remember the last time she felt this way.

“Sorry," she says. “I guess I’m… I don’t even know. Happy?” And also kind of embarrassed about feeling happy? Or maybe just uncomfortable with the new emotion.

“Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty happy," Frankie confirms, one side of their lips tilting up. “I can’t believe you just talked so much. Do you even remember half of what you said to me? Because I’ll be honest, a lot of it didn’t make sense.”

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