They didn’t have to drive far. After a couple of miles and some turns down side streets, Rabi eased the truck to a stop on a stretch of barely there dirt road beside an abandoned farm. There were a lot of those out here—farms that hadn’t survived the economic roller coaster of recent years—and Matthew doubted anyone would find them.
Rabi turned the key. The engine shuddered once, then stilled as the headlights blinked out. Just like that, the world around them was blanketed in darkness so undisturbed that Matthew couldn’t see any of Rabi’s features.
Rabi unbuckled his seat belt, and Matthew did the same as Rabi slid across the bench. The warmth of Rabi’s body this close to his was startling. Were they really doing this?
And how much of “this” was Rabi expecting?
Fear suddenly made his whole body tense.
Rabi tensed too. “What?”
“Before . . . before we go too far,” Matthew said, his voice soft and shy. “Just, uh, full disclosure—I’ve, um . . . I’ve never done this before.”
“Neither have I,” Rabi whispered.
“I mean, not just . . .” Matthew sighed with palpable frustration. “I mean I’ve made out a bit, but I’m a virgin. And I . . . I kind of want to stay that way.”
Rabi stroked Matthew’s face with the backs of his fingers. “So am I.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “And I want to stay that way too. For now.”
“You do?”
“Mm-hmm. Just, you know, not quite ready for that.”
“Yeah. Same.”
Rabi grinned. “But I’m not above making out.”
That got a soft laugh out of Matthew, and he slid a hand onto Rabi’s thigh, nearly gasping at the warmth of body heat through jeans. “I’m definitely not above that.”
“Good.” Rabi leaned in, and despite the darkness, they found each other’s lips as if they were just drawn to each other.
The kiss sent delicious little shivers through Matthew. He loved kissing anyway, but Rabi was amazing. Especially now that they’d cleared the air and there was no pressure, Matthew could really sink in and enjoy this. He didn’t have to keep his guard up for that inevitable attempt to get past his defenses, so he wrapped his arms around Rabi and took his sweet time exploring his mouth and dragging his hands all over Rabi’s clothed torso. He was tempted to get a bit more handsy, but he held back. There was no hurry. And anyway, he was too focused on Rabi’s kiss to want to distract himself with anything else.
They shifted around, trying to get comfortable in the close confines, and finally settled with Matthew on his back and Rabi’s hips between his thighs. It should’ve been too intimate—too close to everything Matthew wasn’t ready to explore yet—but somehow it wasn’t. He immediately liked the weight of Rabi’s body over his. How they fit together, and how even with their clothed erections rubbing together, Rabi’s gentle kisses assured Matthew again and again that there was no rush. No pressure. If they got there another time, fine, but for tonight, he was perfectly content with this.
After God only knew how much time had passed, Rabi lifted himself up and gazed down at Matthew. Matthew’s eyes had adjusted, and there was just enough moonlight for him to see the outlines of Rabi’s features and the sparkle in his eyes. Holy shit, he was gorgeous.
“This is crazy, you know?” Rabi whispered.
Matthew slid his hands up Rabi’s back. “Which part?”
“All of it. I mean, I don’t know you at all,” Rabi whispered, stroking the edge of Matthew’s jaw with his thumb. “All I know is your name and how you taste. But I already can’t resist you.”
“Then don’t.” Matthew pulled him down, and their lips met again, and how was every kiss like the first one all over again? The same lightning bolt of pleasure. The same surprise at the softness of Rabi’s lips and the roughness of his chin. The same simultaneous sigh of relief and swell of anticipation. He was quickly starting to understand how some of his friends got physical with people on a first date, or at least super early in a relationship—never in his life had he been more tempted to say to hell with it, strip a man naked, and let lust take over.
He kept it reined in, though, and Rabi still didn’t push. They kissed and touched, and Matthew let himself be blown away by how dizzy Rabi made him. It was probably just as well they weren’t going further tonight—he wasn’t sure he’d live to tell about it.
Not that he could tell anyone.
Ever.
The thought sent a rush of cold water through him.
He must have tensed, because Rabi met his gaze again. “What?”
“Nothing, I . . .” Hell, why bother lying to the one man he could be honest with? Sighing, Matthew touched Rabi’s face in the darkness. “We’re really going to have to keep this on the down-low if we keep doing it.”
“I know.” Rabi shifted onto the arm between Matthew and the seat back. “I’m not even out to my family.”
“Neither am I.”
“And if they knew you were seeing me . . .”
Matthew nodded. “Likewise, right?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Matthew ran his fingers through Rabi’s soft, cool hair. “If anyone finds out, there will probably be worse backlash for you than me. In fact, we both know there will be.”
“I know. That doesn’t mean I want to stop seeing you, though.”
“I definitely want to keep seeing you.”
Rabi kissed him lightly. “We can make this work. We’ve got texting when we can’t be together, and there’s nothing stopping us from taking off to Columbia or . . .” He gestured at their surroundings.
“True.”
“We’ll make it work.” Rabi lowered himself a little, letting his chest press against Matthew’s again. “I don’t care if we’re hiding in the library basement on campus as long as I get to be with you.”
Matthew laughed as he hooked his leg around Rabi’s. “I’m pretty sure we won’t have to go that far.”
“No.” Rabi leaned down and nuzzled Matthew’s neck, sending a shiver through him. “But if it came down to it, I would.”
“Me too. Kind of like your truck better, though.”
“Mm-hmm. And just think—when the weather warms up, we can use the bed instead of the seat.”
“Oh, more room to move.”
“Exactly.” Rabi’s lips skated along the side of Matthew’s throat. “But in the meantime . . .”
“Pretty sure this will do just fine.”
Rabi said nothing. He lifted his head and kissed Matthew on the mouth again.
And yeah, the truck was just fine.
Despite Arbor Hills being a relatively small town and both of them being relatively high profile, sneaking off together without being detected turned out to be easier than Matthew had expected.
Sometimes it was before classes. Sometimes in the middle of the day. Usually at night after they’d had dinner with their families. They both had campaign obligations too, but with a little creative planning and some sacrificed sleep, they saw each other almost daily.
Fridays meant Rabi was at mosque or with his family when he wasn’t in class. Sundays meant Matthew was in church. Saturdays, though—Saturdays were fair game.
The bitter Midwestern winter was still a few weeks off, but fall could be pretty brutal too. Cold rain and colder wind meant the sticky heat of summer was a distant memory. Most people avoided going outside for any length of time because it was just miserable and gray. Matthew decided it wasn’t all bad, though. It was the perfect time to go into Columbia and brave the weather for a day of wandering, eating, and maybe shopping.
So, early one Saturday morning, Rabi left his truck at a diner outside of town, and Matthew picked him up behind a different restaurant a few blocks away. It was irritating, having to be so careful not to be seen, but they couldn’t take chances. Going in a single vehicle was risky; they’d debated taking separate cars, but agreed to take one so they could spend as much time together as possible. Since they were meeting outside of town, odds were slim that they’d be seen by anyone who knew them.
Otherwise, though, they were careful. Reporters had apparently been sniffing around the Hashmi family—not to mention the mosque—for the past week in search of juicy rumors to hobble Emir’s growing lead in the polls. It meant being extra careful, but it also meant they were both extra grateful to hightail it out of town for a little while.
In Matthew’s car, they headed toward Columbia while he and Rabi talked about whatever.
“So,” Matthew said after a while. “I’m curious—have you lived over here your whole life?”
“Like, in Arbor Hills? Or in America?”
“Either.”
“Yes and yes. I was born here.”
“Oh.” Matthew glanced at him. “Where did your family come from?”
“Charleston.” Beat. “You mean before they came to the US.”
Matthew nodded. “Is that a dumb question?”
“Nah. I mean, some people like to grill me about where I came from because they can’t imagine I was born here. Just because I have brown skin and go to a mosque doesn’t mean I’m any less of an American than you, you know.”
“Oh. Shit.” Fidgeting in the driver’s seat, Matthew flicked his gaze toward Rabi. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I’m sorry.”
Rabi rested his hand on Matthew’s thigh. “To answer your question, my grandparents came to the States from Pakistan in the sixties. My dad and my uncles were born over there, but my mom’s family came over before she was born. And they all eventually ended up in Arbor Hills, which is where my parents met.”
“Huh.”
Rabi cocked his head. “What?”
“Just . . .” Matthew tapped his thumbs on the wheel. “Everyone talks about all of you like you’re all immigrants. But you’re, like, second generation.”
“I know, right?” Rabi laughed dryly. “Guess they can’t imagine some actual Americans might be Muslim.” His tone had soured by the end of the comment, and he scowled out the windshield. “Idiots.”
“No kidding.”
Rabi studied him for a moment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? That I’m Muslim?”
“Of course not.” Matthew shook his head and slid a hand over Rabi’s leg. “I wouldn’t be here if it did.”
“No, but . . . your family isn’t exactly, uh . . .”
“Friendly toward Muslims?”
“Yes. That.”
Matthew scowled. “I know. And I hate it.” He paused, then quietly added, “And I hate that I bought into it for so long.”
“You did?”
Matthew nodded.
Rabi shifted a little, muscles tensing under Matthew’s hand. “What changed?”
“I think it was their homophobia, to be honest.”
“Really?”
Matthew nodded. Eyes on the road, he squeezed Rabi’s thigh. “As a kid, I bought into everything my dad preached. All of it. About Muslims, immigrants, gays, and . . . well, your family in particular. But when I started figuring out I was gay, and I started talking to other people like me, I realized my dad was wrong about us. Wasn’t much of a stretch to think he might be wrong about everyone else.”
“Good point,” Rabi said softly.
“And for what it’s worth,” Matthew said. “I’m sorry for the shit my dad’s been stirring up. All the stuff he says about your family and your beliefs and . . .” He shook his head.
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, but it sucks. It’s stupid.” He glanced at Rabi. “If I had a clue how to get through to my family, I would. Like I know there’s been bullshit on both sides over the years, but let’s face it—if I were in your shoes, I’d hate the Swains too. We’ve been dicks to you guys.”
“And the election is only going to make it worse.”
“I know.” Matthew sighed. “And when it does, and if anyone finds out about us . . .”
They exchanged uneasy glances, but neither went any deeper into the issue. Nothing needed to be said. And besides, they were out to enjoy a day together, not wring their hands over the simmering rage between people who refused to see reason.
So they let the subject drop, and Matthew kept driving.
Columbia wasn’t as intimidating or claustrophobic as Chicago, but it was a hell of a lot bigger than Arbor Hills. Skyscrapers shot up on either side of the congested four-lane road, and parking was an utter nightmare. Eventually, though, Matthew found a parking garage under one of the skyscrapers, and he parked on what seemed like the thirty-seventh underground floor.
An elevator took them back up to street level, and they picked a random direction to go exploring.
Not five seconds into their stroll through the city, Matthew decided he wanted to do this again, and do it as often as possible, especially once the election was over. Here, on sidewalks crowded with strangers and streets lined with every shop and restaurant imaginable, they could release their breaths. No wary glances. No keeping their heads down. No texting each other until they met up in some clandestine place and slipped away to a shadowy corner where no one would find them.
They were out in the open, walking together like there was no reason not to. Talking. Looking in windows. Joking about how loaded someone would have to be to buy those three-thousand-dollar sneakers. Turning up their noses at the idiot who’d scratched and dented the shit out of the red Ferrari parked on the curb. Strategizing their day so they could grab lunch at the taco place on Broad Street, and then kill a few hours before getting dinner at the Japanese restaurant on Grady Avenue.
It was amazing. Hell, it was liberating. They could just be two guys here—maybe gay, maybe not—instead of a Swain and a Hashmi. They were walking and window shopping, not consorting with the enemy.
On the other hand, they were still in the Midwest, so they had to be careful about people noticing they were a couple. It was this weird gray area between being able to move freely and still having to watch their backs.
It was a massive improvement, though, so Matthew didn’t complain. Not when he got to stroll down a sidewalk next to Rabi in broad daylight.
“You think you’ll stay in Arbor Hills?” Rabi asked as they wandered toward the taco place. “After you graduate?”
“I don’t know. Depends on where I find a job. You?”
“No way.” Rabi shook his head. “Soon as I have my degree, I’m getting my brown ass out of that place and going somewhere else.”
“Do you know where?”
“No. Just somewhere other than Arbor Hills.”
A little pang of disappointment tugged at Matthew. The prospect of Rabi leaving . . . Fuck.
Rabi let his elbow brush Matthew’s. “You could come with me.”
Matthew’s head snapped toward him. “What?”
“Why not?” Rabi gave him a shy smile. “If we’re still together by the time we graduate, we’ll have like two years under our belts. So we’ll know if we can do this, you know?”
“True,” Matthew said quietly. “And fuck, if I can find a job somewhere, I have no problem getting the hell out of town.” Especially if it means being with you. And being in a place where I can openly be with you. He brushed his elbow against Rabi’s. “If we’re still doing this by the time we’re seniors, we should totally look into some other place.”
Rabi’s smile was more confident now. “Deal.”
They exchanged grins, and kept walking toward the restaurant.
After stuffing themselves with tacos, they resumed their stroll. Once they’d walked off the food a little bit, Rabi gestured up ahead. “There’s a theater. Want to grab a movie?”
“Is there anything good playing?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Turned out there was, so they got tickets for a matinee of an action movie that promised lots of explosions and cheesy dialogue, paid a fortune for a bucket of popcorn, and went into the auditorium.
As soon as they took their seats, Rabi cupped Matthew’s face and planted a long, soft kiss on his lips. Matthew thought his whole body was going to melt right onto the sticky floor, and he damn near dropped the popcorn.
Rabi pulled back and met his gaze. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”
“Y-yeah. Me too.”
Rabi smiled. He kissed him again, then sat back in his own seat, but he kept their fingers laced together on the armrest.
Once the auditorium had darkened and the previews were starting, they got a little bolder—putting up the armrest between them so Matthew could wrap an arm around Rabi’s shoulders.
Matthew still managed to follow the movie—not that it was all that complicated—and he enjoyed the hell out of it, but admittedly, his mind was always at least partially focused on the man cuddled against his side.
It isn’t fair that we can’t do this all the time.
All too soon, their day came to an end, and Matthew pulled up beside Rabi’s truck.
Rabi turned to him, that sweet smile on his lips. “We should do that again.”
“Yeah, we should.” Matthew took Rabi’s hand. “It’s nice—going someplace where nobody recognizes us.”
“Seriously.” Rabi’s smile turned a little sad. “Maybe one of these days we’ll find a place where nobody notices we’re gay.”
“I feel like we’d have to drive a few hundred miles for that.”
“Kind of seems like it would be worth it.”
They locked eyes, and Matthew nodded. “Yeah. I think it would be.”
“Maybe after midterms are over.”
“And the election.”
“That too.” Rabi slid a hand into Matthew’s hair. “In the meantime, though, I’ll see you soon.”
Matthew smiled and leaned across the console. “The sooner the better.”
“Agreed.” Rabi kissed him, and even though it wasn’t a deep, demanding kiss like when they’d make out by the cornfields, it was enough to curl Matthew’s toes and make his spine tingle. It was a shame that they weren’t going further. That sex was off the table because . . . That neither of them was ready to . . . That they . . .
Oh God, I love the way you kiss.
And if they kept this up, things were going to get hot and sweaty, and they’d wind up making out right here in the parking lot. Which meant they might get caught. The thought of what could happen to Rabi if someone busted them sobered Matthew. They couldn’t do this here.
He was seriously tempted to suggest they take off for the safety of the cornfield, but Rabi chose that moment to break the kiss.
“I should get going,” he whispered. “Text me?”
Matthew smiled despite his disappointment. “Definitely.”
They kissed once more—just a brief, light touch this time—and then Rabi got out of the car. Matthew managed to hold in his resigned sigh until the door was shut. Every time he saw Rabi, it was a little tougher to let him go. Weren’t there people out there who got to see their boyfriends all the time? Who didn’t have to do all this cloak-and-dagger crap just to spend a few hours together?
Yes, probably, but they didn’t come from families who hated each other.
Matthew rolled his eyes at the thought. Then he put the truck back in drive and followed Rabi out of the parking lot. Rabi waved in the rearview before he turned left, and Matthew waved back before going right.
Despite his disappointment and his frustration, Matthew couldn’t help grinning as he drove home. Even if he couldn’t be with Rabi as often as he would’ve liked, the time they did spend together was enough to tide him over until the next time. He wondered if this was what a long-distance relationship felt like—grabbing what opportunities they had, and pining after each other in between.
It’s worth it, though. Totally worth it.
Rabi’s kiss was still tingling on Matthew’s lips as he let himself in through the front door. As he took off his jacket, though, his mom stepped into the entryway.
She wrung her hands and seemed to be struggling to look him in the eye. “Honey, can your dad and I have a word with you?”
“Um.” Matthew fought back a nervous gulp, and nodded as he put his jacket on its hook. “Sure. Okay. What’s up?”
She motioned for him to come with her. With no small amount of trepidation, he followed her into the living room, where Dad was waiting in his usual armchair. Mom sat in hers, and Matthew took a seat on the couch.
“Where’ve you been today?” Dad asked.
Matthew swallowed. “Out with Jude.” He’d texted Jude this morning to let him know he was his alibi, so he wasn’t worried about his parents busting him.
“I see.” Mom shifted in obvious discomfort. “Honey, are . . . are you . . . We’ve just been wondering if—”
“Son, are you queer?” Dad barked.
Both Mom and Matthew jumped.
This again? Matthew gritted his teeth. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Yeah,” Dad said. “We have. And now—”
“Why won’t you take me at my word?” Matthew tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice, but Christ—they’d had this conversation so many times, usually when he couldn’t still feel the ghost of a man’s touch.
“Well, for one thing, you’ve never brought a girl home,” Mom said. “I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you interested in one. And for the last couple of weeks, you’ve been distracted, but you haven’t said anything about why, and we’re just worried that—”
“Listen.” Dad leaned his elbows on his knees and looked right at Matthew. “The bottom line here is that the election is in two weeks, and the polls have me neck and neck with Hashmi.”
That’s optimistic, Matthew wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.
Dad continued. “If it suddenly comes out I’ve got a queer son, that’s going to lose me votes. You understand?”
Matthew clenched his jaw. Of course, at the end of the day, that was the most important thing. Votes. The election. Dad’s career. Dad’s political ambitions. Dad’s reputation.
Taking a deep breath in through his nose, Matthew reminded himself to stay calm. The more defensive he got, the more suspicious they would get. As evenly as he could, he said, “I’m not gay.” Thanks to years in the closet, he could lie through his teeth and right to their faces with practiced ease. “I just don’t have time for a girlfriend or anything right now. Between school and helping with Dad’s campaign, I barely have time to hang out with Jude.”
His parents exchanged glances.
“Is he . . .?” Mom inclined her head. “I’ve always wondered about that boy. Is he . . .” Her eyes flicked toward Dad, and she pursed her lips before she finally added a flat, “Gay?”
Why do you think he and I are such good friends, Mom?
Okay, so he and Jude had always been close, but their mutual secret had bonded them like brothers. There hadn’t been many other queer kids at their high school. That they’d known of, anyway. Coming out in a town like this took balls Matthew didn’t have, and just being friends with someone who was openly queer would make his parents ask questions he wouldn’t like answering. He and Jude had found a sort of solidarity in the closet together—keeping each other’s secrets and commiserating when that secrecy took its toll. There were rumors about both of them, and shooting those rumors down was exhausting. They’d both gotten good at it, though. These days Matthew had no problem lying to his parents’ faces if it meant keeping himself and his best friend safe.
“No, he isn’t gay,” Matthew said.
His parents eyed him, but they didn’t push, so maybe they believed him. Something still hung in the air, though. Something unspoken that was making his mom so nervous she couldn’t sit still, and had deepened the scowl lines between Dad’s eyebrows so far it was a wonder his skull didn’t cleave apart.
Matthew cleared his throat. “So, um, if that’s everything, I should go study for my—”
“There is one more thing,” Dad said coldly.
Of course there is.
Dad reached down beside his chair, then pulled out a book and tossed it on the coffee table with a heavy thunk. Matthew only needed a glance to recognize the green leather cover and the embossed gold lettering. The embossed gold Arabic lettering.
“You want to tell me why that was in your bedroom?” Dad’s voice was a low, warning growl.
Matthew chewed the inside of his cheek. There was no point in asking why one of his parents had been in his bedroom. He still lived in their home, and as far as they were concerned, that meant they had full access to his bedroom, car, and phone. That was the deal if he wanted his tuition paid.
God, I can’t wait to graduate and leave.
He cleared his throat. “It was for one of my classes last semester.”
Dad’s face hardened even more. “What the hell are they teaching over there that needs you to read that nonsense?”
“It was a comparative religious studies class.” Matthew gestured dismissively at the book. “We studied the Bible and the Bhagavad Gita too.”
“The what now?”
“The Bhagavad Gita. Hindu scripture.”
Dad’s lips tightened into a bleached line. “You don’t need to be taking classes like that. The Bible’s all you need.”
“We were just studying the differences between—”
“I don’t want this garbage in my house, Matthew!” Dad pointed at the book. “Get it out of here. Do you hear me?”
“Dad, it’s—”
“Someone sees that, they’ll think we’ve got Muslim sympathizers living here.” He narrowed his eyes pointedly at Matthew. “Which we don’t, do we?”
Does dating count as sympathizing?
“No,” Matthew said meekly. “It was just a textbook I never got around to getting rid of. That’s all.”
“Good. Get it out of here.” With that, Dad rose and stomped out of the living room. Mom followed.
With a heavy sigh, Matthew reached for the Quran and pulled it into his lap. He ran his fingers over the Arabic writing. If his father had half a clue how much studying this book had affected his views, he’d hit the roof. Muslim sympathizer? Yeah, pretty much. Because the Islamophobia indoctrinated into him since childhood just didn’t hold up the more he’d read the Quran, and studied how Islam and Christianity really compared, and more recently spent time with the sweetest man he’d ever met who just happened to be Muslim. He didn’t believe any of it and he was still a Christian, but he couldn’t hate Muslims. He was still a Swain, but he couldn’t hate a Hashmi.
Not when it’s this easy to love one.
He had to force back the sudden lump in his throat.
It had always hurt knowing he couldn’t come out to his folks. Their religious objections and political platforms had always made the closet the safest place for him. It hadn’t been easy, but it had been reality, and he’d dealt with it.
But now that he had Rabi, it was excruciating. His parents were worried about him because he’d never dated anyone, and he was hurting because he couldn’t tell them about the guy who’d broken his heart and the one who’d come along and put all the pieces back together. Even if he could tell them he was gay, he couldn’t tell them about Rabi because Rabi was the last man his parents would ever accept as his boyfriend. If he’d been straight and either he or Rabi had been a girl, they still would’ve had to date in secret.
It hurt, being this isolated in his own home. He was so happy with Rabi that he wanted to ramble on and on and on about it, and at the same time, the sadness was overwhelming because no one would be happy if they knew.
And if they ever found out about Rabi, they’d be throwing more than a book out of their house.