Holding Hands

Chapter 62

My whole face was aflame. Did he really just say that? My eyes practically bulged in their sockets. What was happening here? I had no idea how to respond to this man. He was making my body feel warm and tingly all over. I needed to get away from him. And fast. He wasn't laying a finger on me with his hands, but he was definitely touching me. He was stroking some kind of fire inside the pit of my belly. And that fire was burning hotter than it ever had before. This was exactly why I didn't want to shake the man's hand in the first place. Sure it was an instruction in Islam, but at this moment, I fully understood the need for such distance. A handshake wasn't so much an intimate touch, but things that begin innocently have a way of expanding into something else altogether when two people are alone and the only thing egging them forward are the suggestions of the devil and their own lower desires.

How quickly good intentions can turn otherwise. I remembered the words of the Prophet, God bless him: "No man is alone with a woman except that the devil is the third one present."

Right now, I knew the devil was whispering. My ego was warming up to Brandon's magical gaze. I wanted to sit here and feed that fire. But I needed to get up and leave. My mind was telling me one thing, but my nafs were telling me something completely different.

In this moment, my nafs were in control. My lower desires to sit here with this fine man were getting the best of me. Of course, Brandon was just kidding. He didn't really want to get married. He was just teasing me. I could handle a little banter. He was asking a legitimate question. Could he see my hair if we were married? I should give him a legitimate answer.

"Technically, yes." I forced myself to meet Brandon's eyes. His gorgeous smile began to melt my resolve and I looked away again. Get away from this man, I kept telling myself. You can most definitely not handle this. My heart was beating fast and the warning alarm in my mind was blaring loudly.

"Technically." Brandon repeated. He fell silent. He was waiting for something. I gathered the courage one more time and raised my eyes to meet his gaze. I did so slowly, fighting the battle within to gain control over my nafs, my lower desires. Right now, my higher consciousness was losing the battle. With my defenses down, I raised my chin and stared right into Brandon's dark brown eyes. A spark flickered between us. I felt it. Like a flame in the wind that suddenly caught strength. He had me now and that's when he delivered the final blow.

Staring deep into my eyes, he said, "So, how do I become Muslim?"