Page 44 of Spread Your Wings
“I’m leaving at noon. Our boss gave us a half-day for an early holiday. You could stop by?”
Mustafa nodded, seeming a little less angry than he had when Sammy first saw him.
Sammy turned to the receptionist. He didn’t have to ask if she’d been listening. She handed him a pad of paper and a pen. He scribbled four lines with a flourish, including his new number. He tore the paper from the pad and handed it to Mustafa. “Whenever you want.”
Mustafa gave him a once-over, as though seeing him for the first time. When their eyes met again, Sammy had to avoid the intense desire.
“Tonight.”
Sammy wanted to run to him, to kiss away his doubts. He took a step forward.
The receptionist cleared her throat behind him. One of the internship candidates snickered. Sammy whirled around to glare at them. By the time he turned back, Mustafa was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The afternoon dragged while Sammy waited. He changed his clothes three times. Jean shorts and a T-shirt. Board shorts and a nice button-down. Finally, he settled on khaki pants and a tight polo. The blue polo defined his pecs while still hanging loosely at his waist. He still didn’t have furniture in his living room, so he sat at the oak dining table he’d purchased on clearance. The spindle-backed chairs weren’t comfortable. They were the only seats in the apartment, besides his bed. He hoped he and Mustafa would move to the bedroom sooner, rather than later.
While he waited, though, he grew more and more anxious.
What if he doesn’t want me?
What if he met someone at college? Someone like him, from Bosnia, here to avoid persecution?
What if he still believes Gavin?
What if he never shows?
He wondered when his stomach growled, just after eight o’clock. He almost wished it was his weekend to work, so he had something, anything, to occupy his time. He didn’t even have a television set in the apartment. He had music, though. Instead of tuning into the radio, he pressed play and filled his apartment with the sounds of Queen.
He tried to read a novel. He was on his third read-through of the same chapter when he heard a knock at the door.
Mustafa had stopped somewhere to shower and change clothes. Instead of being slicked back, his hair was now gelled up into spikes. He wore jeans and a blue cotton T-shirt. The material was soft under Sammy’s fingertips. He wrapped his arms around Mustafa and dragged him into the apartment.
Mustafa’s lips crushed Sammy’s as they backed up against the apartment door, closing it with their weight. Sammy had enough presence of mind to flick the deadbolt before he lost himself in their kiss. His body moved against Mustafa’s involuntarily, seeking flesh beneath his clothes.
“Missed you,” Mustafa huffed in his ear as they parted to remove shirts.
Sammy sighed as Mustafa caressed his chest. “Missed you too.”
“When I saw that guy at your place, I couldn’t take it. I wanted to pound his face into the door.”
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Sammy said. “He’s not worth losing you to jail.”
“I would be deported. No jail.”
Sammy hooked his fingers into Mustafa’s belt loops and held him close. “He’s definitely not worth being deported.”
They kissed again, Sammy trailed his hands over Mustafa’s soft skin. He kneaded the hard muscles of Mustafa’s shoulders, and Mustafa moaned into his mouth.
“No furniture?” Mustafa asked when he came up for air.
“Bedroom.”
Mustafa chuckled. “You make all your visitors sit on your bed?”
“You’re my only visitor, and the only one who matters.”
Mustafa grabbed him then, picking him up off the floor. Sammy held himself in place with his legs around Mustafa’s waist and let Mustafa carry him into his bedroom.
