Callous

Chapter 9/Too Bad

Great. Perfect. Awesome.

Now I not only have to bare Aarib, but also my obnoxious cousin, Mahmat. Aarib cocks a brow at me, trying to gauge my reaction because I am pretty sure my facial expressions are a mixture of frustration and relief. Relief, because I want to be as far away from Aarib, and frustration, because I don't know why I am not doing that.

"So, you're allowed to have guy friends?" Mahmat pipes in, stepping forward.

I plaster on the fakest smile possible. "Actually, he is my partner in religion class." And none of your stupid concern.

"Huh," my cousin ponders, examining Aarib like a report.

Aarib shows no emotion. He just coolly stands there with his hands in his pockets while he stares my cousin down with bored eyes. Mahmat, who is leaner than any guy I have known, and who has shoulder length hair that match his black eyes, tries his best to look tough and all bad boy type. Does he think he trying to protect me from Aarib? Pfft! What a troll!

I peer at Aarib. As if sensing my eyes on him, he cuts his gaze to mine and smiles triumphantly. Uh . . . what? What's that look he is giving me? Oh God. Is he trying to give an impression to my cousin that we both are. . .close? What a desperate fool!

"Mahmat! Dude come here!" Hassan calls him and saves me from any further embarrassment.

Once Mahmat leaves, Aarib chuckles with midnight laughter. "You've got quite the love interest there," he snickers, a twinkle in those icy blue eyes. "Enlighten me, do you also possess feelings for him?"

The nerve of this man. . . "I don't like him. Seriously, you really think he is my type?"

He clicks his tongue in disapproval. "Nah, sorry, my bad. I forgot I am your type." The corners of his mouth twitch, clearly telling me he is fighting off a grin.

I close my eyes and just. . .breathe. he definitely knows how to get on my nerves. But. . .a part of me knows I like him—guys like him. And a part of me definitely does not like how my heart speeds up when he scrutinizes me with his sharp eyes. Eyes that are always curious. Intelligent. I keep forgetting he is dangerous, a son of Mafia. Yet here he is standing in my house as if he doesn't impose us any threat.

When I open my eyes, he is still staring at me. I look anywhere and everywhere except in his eyes.

"I'll introduce you to my brothers. You've already met Azaan, so now lets go meet Hassan," I say. (Without looking at him.)

"Actually," he sighs. "I have somewhere I have to be right now. What's today? The Nikah?" he questions with interest, as if he genuinely cares what is going on.

Maybe he does. I wouldn't know.

"Yes." A question pops in my head. "Where are you originally from? San Francisco?" I remember his brother mocking me with the information that Aarib is the son of the biggest Mafia of San Francisco, although it's kind of a blur because hello? I was scared to death.

I finally look at him when he doesn't answer immediately. A muscle in his jaw ticks—oops, not good. Note to myself: he doesn't like to talk about his life.

He runs a hand through his dark locks, a sign he is not sure he wants to tell me or not. Looking heavenwards, he blows out a huggeee breath. Uh, did I really ask such a difficult question? He is acting like I asked him to explain double circulation in mammals. Though I bet he would be able to answer that in mere seconds.

"You can trust me."

UH—WHAT DID I JUST SAY? Ugh! Why am I acting like this? WHY AM I BEING SO SWEET AND CONSIDERATE! AAAAAAAAAAAAA.