Page 32 of Poinsettia Lane

Everly shakes her head, but she can’t truthfully deny it. He’s irresistible. She also doesn’t feel like talking about this while Asim is right outside, especially when she isn’t entirely comfortable with her sister yet.

“I should get back out there," she says, glancing at the doorway again. “What is it you called for though?”

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to check in, but we can talk later. Go!” Addison says. “And have fun!” She wiggles her eyebrows and cackles just as Everly says bye and ends the call.

Everly stands there for a moment, tapping her finger on her phone as she wonders if she should have said “I love you” before hanging up. Most families say that to each other, right? She isn’t sure, as she hasn’t talked to anyone in her family for the last eight years to know, but she tries not to worry about it right now. She doesn’t think she’s ready to say that to her sister yet anyways, especially with so many new feelings getting all mixed up, and she really doesn’t want to try to figure it out while Asim is here. Smiling to herself as she thinks about him helping her, she refills their drinks and heads back outside.

He already has all the new plants lined up with the others and is working on digging the next hole, but straightens and steps onto the patio when he sees her open the door.

“Hey,” she says, “sorry that took a minute. My sister called.”

“No problem," he replies with a polite smile, and reaches out to take his glass from her. “How is she?”

Everly doesn’t answer for a second, her eyes gettingstuck on his neck as he tips his head back and takes a mouthful of the lemonade.

She swallows to clear her throat before replying. “She’s good, nothing new, we just haven’t talked in a few days but I told her I’d call back later.”

“I don’t mind if you’d like to talk to her now.” Asim sets the half empty glass down on the patio table as Everly shakes her head in response.

“Nah, she knew you were over and didn’t want to interrupt. It’s okay.”

He nods, then turns with his hands on his hips to inspect their progress. Everly is relieved he doesn’t push the topic of her sister any further.

“It’s looking good so far, but I wanted to double check where you want some of these new ones," he says.

He walks over to a tree-like plant, which she recently learned (from Asim) is called Yellow Trumpetbush, and hefts it up, carrying it over to the far corner of the terrace where it meets the patio. He sets it down carefully, swiveling it a little until it’s in the right spot, then takes a few steps back, tipping his head to look at its placement. Everly doesn’t care about the tree-bush at all right now. She’s back to watching him work, his face lined with thoughtful consideration, the way he moves with fluid purpose, the flex of his muscles and his shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. Her brain is beyond caring if it’s impolite.

She snaps her head up when he twists around, looking at her inquisitively, and she assumes he must have asked her something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” Everly asks, aiming for an innocent look but knowing he sees right through her.

“I asked if you like it there, or if you want to see it somewhere else before I start digging?”

“Right, yeah that looks good.” Everly barely glances at the small tree with pretty yellow flowers and nods, not really seeing it as she instead imagines him digging with his shirt off.

Asim casually slides it out of the way and begins slamming the shovel into the dirt again. Everly still feels stuck as she stands there watching him. After heaving a few shovels of dirt to the side, he notices she hasn’tmoved and pauses his work, propping the shovel next to him and leaning on it.

“While I certainly don’t mind your eyes on me,” he drawls, voice low and slow and far too suggestive for her already tenuous hold on her emotions, “I do have that one ready for you.”

Asim aims his chin toward another of the grassy clumps that she now sees isn’t planted, but is sitting bare-root in a hole ready to be filled in.

“Yep!” Everly startles and clumsily wrangles her gloves back on, kneeling down in the dirt and getting back to work. Asim’s low chuckle comes from her left as he continues digging, and she can’t help the corresponding smile that stretches across her face.

Everly doesn’t mind the manual labor as much as she thought she would, even though she works up a sweat. She readjusts the leaves and flowers of each plant after Asim plops them in the hole, getting the angle and direction right until they look just so. She keeps glancing at Asim as they work. It’s unreasonable for anyone to expect her to keep her eyes off him. Everly often catches him watching her too, and he smiles at her every time they make eye contact. It would be awkward with anyone else, but this is Asim, and together they just click.

They work for another hour or so, planting a couple medium sized plants with pretty purple flowers that read ‘Larkspur’ and some smaller daisy looking things, before Everly stands up with a huff, puffing air over her face in an attempt to whisk away the stray hairs that have fallen out of her braid. When that doesn’t work, she tears her hat off and uses her sleeve to wipe the sweat from her forehead before slicking her hair back with her hands. Asim stops working too and glances up, giving her a quick once over, then he stands and dusts his hands off.

He pulls his usual hand towel out of his back pocket, giving himself a quick brush off, and then grabs one from the table that she hadn’t noticed. He unfolds it as he walks over to her, then gently wipes her face. She blinks at him, unsure how to react. He tugs off her gloves one finger at a time and swipes the towel down her arms. It sends tiny tingles shooting over her skin, lifting goosebumps on her arms and neck where he passes thecloth over her flesh, and Everly shivers as his touch moves to the back of her neck.

She bites her lip to keep from whimpering, because even though he’s only touching her with the cloth, it still feels incredible on her overheated skin. Everly hasn’t dated in ages and she’s not a one night stand person, so she hasn’t had close contact with anyone in months, apart from the random hug with Frankie, which isn’t the same. She’s clearly touch-deprived, and Asim makes her feel more than she ever expected.

His eyes latch on her bottom lip where she’s biting it, and she mirrors the action as her eyes skim down his face too. The long, straight angle of his nose, the dark stubble lining his cheeks, those full lips. Lips that have kissed her and set her skin on fire, and that she wants to kiss again.

Suddenly his thumb is on her mouth, gently tugging her lip from her teeth, then brushing over it in a feather-light caress. Her eyes fly back up to his, seeing they’ve darkened from their usual bright green. Her instinct is to bite her lip again, but he’s preventing that, so she latches her hand onto his wrist instead, although it’s unclear if she’s preventing him from moving away, or stopping him from moving closer.

Asim startles slightly, looking down at her hand clutching his forearm, then blinks, taking a small step back from her. He turns his hand as it leaves her face, so her palm slides into his, and he clasps it lightly. Turning her hand over, Asim dips down and places a gentle kiss on her palm, and then the inside of her wrist, looking her straight in the eye and causing her to flush with heat as he does so, before gently returning her hand to her side.

He takes another small step back and smiles down at her. “We got a lot done today," he says.

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