CONNECTED HEARTS

12: Ice cream and Laughter "A Day with Adyan"!

KALTOOM POV

I was pacing up and down my room for what felt like the hundredth time, clothes scattered all over the closet floor like a mini battlefield. My anxiety was hitting an all-time high. I had a date in less than an hour and Amani was still MIA.

"I'm so killing that girl today!" I muttered, running a hand through my mess of a bun.

The door creaked open and Mom peeked in, her voice holding that classic warning tone.
"Amani is downstairs. And clean up your room before I come back."

I didn't need to be told twice. I bolted out, practically flying down the stairs. Two years in this house had trained my legs to run up and down these steps like cardio practice.

The second I spotted Amani lounging in the living room, our eyes locked. She stood up big mistake. I grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at her, chasing her across the room. She tripped, about to fall flat on her face when a muscular hand caught her.

My eyes widened.

"What the Nutella? Adyan!!!"

Without even thinking, I yanked Amani away from him, peeling his hand off her shoulder. I had no idea why I did that,territorial much? But still. He wasn't supposed to be here yet; he was like, an hour early.

Our eyes met for a split second before he quickly looked away. That's when it hit me: I was still in my sleeping trousers and one of Farouk's oversized T-shirts I'd stolen from his wardrobe. My hair? A disaster bun. I looked like I'd been in a fight with a wild cat and lost.

Mortified didn't even begin to cover it. I grabbed Amani's wrist and dragged her upstairs, slamming the door behind us. She stared at me with wide eyes. I was enjoying how scared she looked, even though this was her fault.

"Get to work!" I snapped, clutching my hair dramatically.

Her expression was priceless. She hurried over to my wardrobe and pulled out one of my favorites crazy-styled denim jeans with a matching top. I shot her a don't test me look. Then she pulled out a baby pink abaya. And honestly? Sometimes an abaya is the only thing that saves you.

She tossed it on the bed along with a matching veil. "Now, go and bathe." She literally shooed me towards the bathroom like I was a little kid.

Before stepping inside, I called Aishatu, our house help, to serve Adyan some refreshments and let Mom know he was here. Priorities.

I scrubbed myself down like my life depended on it, shampooed my hair twice, and came out wrapped in a towel with water dripping everywhere. "I want to be ready in fifteen minutes," I told Amani, still pretending to be annoyed.

She stood up, hugged me even though I was soaked and whispered, "I'm sorry, lifeline. I had to deliver something for your mom on the way. Forgive me, okay?"

I pushed her off with a little eye roll but nodded. She grabbed my Mac makeup kit and started sorting what I'd need while I dried my hair and moisturized.

In under ten minutes, I was dressed. "Do I really need makeup now?" I asked.

"Yes, sit down," she ordered, pushing me onto the chair.

"Amy, please. Very light," I pouted.

She giggled, pulling my cheeks like I was five. Then she worked her magic a subtle, nude look that was chef's kiss. I looked fresh, not overdone. Exactly what I wanted.

We hugged, laughed, and headed downstairs together.

The first thing I saw was Khalid sitting with Adyan, both of them deep in conversation. My nerves spiked.