Believe Me by Tahereh Mafi

Author:Tahereh Mafi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2021-10-30T00:00:00+00:00

Ten

Ella is holding my hand like a lifeline, grinning as we forge an unfamiliar path through the Sanctuary. Her happiness is so electric it’s contagious. I feel heavy with it, overwhelmed by it. I don’t even think my body knows what to do with this much of it.

But seeing her like this—

It’s impossible to describe what it does to me to see her so happy, smiling so wide she can hardly speak. I only know that I never want to do anything to make it stop.

We’re following Kenji and Winston, both of whom were quickly joined by their counterparts, Nazeera and Brendan, while the rest of the crowd follows close behind. I seem to be the only one of us who doesn’t know where we’re going, and Ella still refuses to tell me anything more about our destination.

“Will you at least tell me whether we’re leaving the Sanctuary?” I ask.

She smiles up at me. “Yes and no.”

I frown. “Are we going somewhere to see the thing you wanted to show me? Or is this something else?”

Her smile grows bigger. “Yes and no.”

“I see,” I say, squinting into the distance. “So you’re torturing me on purpose.”

“Yes,” she says, poking me in the stomach. “And no.”

I shake my head, laughing a little, and she pokes me in the stomach again.

“Ow,” I say quietly.

Ella beams before wrapping her arms around my waist, hugging me as we walk, not seeming to care at all that she stumbles every few steps. I’m so incomprehensibly happy I seem to have misplaced most of my brain cells. I can hardly gather my thoughts.

After a moment, Ella says, “You know, it’s not much fun to poke you in the stomach. It’s not even possible, really, to poke hard muscle.” She slides her hand up under my shirt, then slowly down my torso. “This whole thing would work much better if you had some body fat.”

I take a steadying breath. “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“I never said I was disappointed,” she says, still smiling. “I love your body.”

Her words conjure a simmering heat somewhere deep inside me. I tense as she draws patterns along my skin, her fingers grazing my navel before moving slowly up again, tracing lines with excruciating care.

I finally cover her hand with my own.

“That,” I say, “is very distracting.”

“What is?” She’s not even looking at the path ahead anymore. One of her arms is wrapped around my waist, and the other is tucked unabashedly under my shirt. “This?” She drags her hand across my abs, moving steadily downward. “Is this distracting?”

I inhale. “Yes.”

“What about this?” she says, staring up at me, the picture of innocence as her free hand travels lower, then slips just underneath my waistband. “Is this distracting?”

“Ella.”

“Yes?”

I laugh, but the sound is breathless. Nervous. It’s a struggle to maintain the control necessary to keep my body from announcing to everyone exactly what I would rather be doing right now.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asks.

“No.”

She smiles wider. “Good, because—”

“If you two

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