Page 40 of My Turkish Fling
“What are you talking about? You looked at him like he hung the moon.”
“Did I?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Or do you just feel like that because you saw him as a threat? We’re pretty polite here in New Zealand and the way I responded to him would come across as not that keen. The way you responded, on the other hand…” I raised my brows and stared him down until he grunted.
“Yeah, I get it. Psycho.”
“Well, I’m way too polite to say that, but thank you.”
“Why do you have to smile at him, though?”
He frowned, biting his bottom lip, and the thought struck me. “That’s what your fiancé did, right? She felt conflicted or uncomfortable and covered it up with a smile. Because that’s what we do. We use our smile as a shield, to cover up how we’re truly feeling, so we don’t burden other people. We use our smile to put everyone at ease.”
He stared at the dark windshield. “Or to mislead them.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t psychoanalyze your past relationship.I’m not a professional.”
“I acted psycho, so I think we’re even. And she smiled a lot. She had a beautiful smile. When she smiled, I ignored everything else.”
“Did you… smile back?” I leaned in, my heart lodged in my throat. The sheer privilege of hearing his story had me shivering.
He shrugged, giving me a rueful look. “I must have. Nobody complained about my face like they do now.”
“So, it’s in muscle memory,” I said, brushing my thumb across the side of his lips, coaxing the corner of his mouth upwards. “Just hiding.”
“Why are you so intent on me smiling? You said we use our smile to cover up what’s really going on. I prefer honesty. Be yourself and anyone who’s worth knowing will stick around.”
I held his gaze. “I’ve never faked a smile with you. I smile because I’m fascinated. I smile because I want you to smile. And if you one day smile back, I’ll melt into a puddle.”
He huffed and his mouth tugged a little, until sadness invaded his eyes again. “You have a beautiful smile.” He stroked my hand with his thumb. “You should smile if you can.”
I felt my face flush and was grateful for the darkness that hid my blush.
“Everyone tells me I look like Cem when I smile. Hande always asked me to smile.”
His dark voice made my insides coil tighter. “You think she was living out her fantasy of being with Cem?”
He turned to face me, a challenge in his glistening eyes. “Why else?”
“But you two are nothing alike.”
“No, we’re not.” His voice broke and he cleared his throat. “If we were, you’d have already had your Turkish fling. But here you are, listening to a grown man cry.”
“Oh, Emir. I don’t want a fling. Nobody wants a fling. A fling is just love that fails the test of time. We all want something better, right? But it’s not always available.”
“Maybe not, but most women would choose a fling with my brother over anything with me.”
His voice sounded rough as he turned to face away from me. I felt a flicker of understanding. He stood in his brother’s shadow, believing he wasn’t good enough. I squeezed his hand. “I know your brother is famous in Turkey, and I know how that distorts reality, but I don’t fancy him. Honestly. Not every woman does.”
He turned a fraction to give me a side eye. I let go of his hand.
“You’re not into movie stars?”
“Not particularly. But I’m into you, Emir. I’m mad at you, but I still prefer you.”
“So, you wouldn’t prefer to be back in that restaurant, with Len?”
I shook my head, smiling a little. He had me there. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Why are you mad at me, then?”
