Page 23 of The Mismatch
She began to worry if the hair on her fingers was visible. If it was, he didn’t seem to care. He began stroking her palm, drawing patterns on it with his forefinger.
If this was what he did to other girls, Soraya suddenly didn’t care because it was working. She had thought being soclose to him would be repulsive, that him touching her wouldn’t be enjoyable, but she’d been wrong.
‘You say exactly what you’re thinking, don’t you?’ he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
‘And that’s a bad thing?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I like it. It just catches me off guard. You’re not how I expected you to be.’
‘How do you mean?’
He removed his hand from hers and ran it through his hair. It looked like he was trying to find a way to say the words without offending her. ‘You’ve got this exotic look about you. With your big dark hair and dark make-up. In lectures it would always be you and Oliver sat next to each other by the side, looking quite bitchy – no offence. You never talked in seminars, either. I figured, don’t take this the wrong way, that you’d be a bit stuck-up. But you’re all right.’
She ignored his ‘exotic’ comment. It was interesting how she could ignore problematic language when it came from someone she now found attractive.
‘All right? Gee, thanks.’
‘You know what I mean.’
And she did.
‘What about me, then? Did you ever think about me?’ He gave her a look which made her laugh.
‘You just seemed like a typical lad.’
‘Great. Care to elaborate on that?’
‘Like, I’ll always remember you wearing running shorts in lectures in winter. You liked the attention it brought.’
He was smiling. ‘Well, that’s an astute observation. It clearly caught your attention, though, no?’
‘Is that what you wanted? To catch my attention?’
He looked down for a moment before speaking, which made her realise her quickening heart. ‘Maybe.’
After two more rounds of soft drinks, Magnus offered to walk her home, an offer she might have found sweet if her mind wasn’t already reeling at the prospect of what was to come. It was abundantly clear why he wanted to walk her home.
When they were outside her door she wished time would just move forward so she wouldn’t have to deal with the present. But she did. She was there, outside her flat, with Magnus.
He was exactly a head taller than her. She had to lift her chin to look at him. She now felt tipsy in his presence, felt the warmth that usually came with alcohol, the way you see people through different eyes then. He wasn’t how she had imagined he would be. Whether he was pretending to be someone else didn’t actually matter in that moment.
‘So,’ he said.
‘So,’ she replied.
His brown eyes bored into hers. Throughout the night she had avoided his gaze, but she returned it now, and allowed herself to be pulled in by him. Countless times she tried to explain to herself what happened next, but all she knew was that she slowly leant in. Deep inside her, she suddenly, desperately, wanted to feel his lips against hers. Wanted his arms to encircle her.
Magnus leant in too, and their lips touched. He put his hand on the back of her neck, sending shivers through her, drawing her closer to him.
And just like that Soraya Nazari had her first kiss.
She got the impression that Magnus didn’t notice how awkward the kiss was, for her at least. As his lips touched hers, it was too late to decide between fight or flight. She had already selected fight when she leant in first.
Rather than enjoy the moment, she remembered everything she had Googled about kissing. She puckered her lips and touched his hair, gripping his curls gently between her fingers. She opened her mouth slightly and was not surprised when his tongue entered it. She didn’t quite know what to do once it was in there. But she thought confidence was key.
When she practised biting his bottom lip, lightly, he groaned in response, and pulled her closer. He had no idea, it seemed, that this was her first kiss. And she would never tell him.
She liked the way his arms felt when they were around her, and the way he cupped her face in his hands.
