Chapter 17 Ofosua
CHAPTER 17 OFOSUA
ADINKRA SAYING: (Mmere Danc) Time changes. A symbol of things changing with time.
HELEN ADDO: Men do not change. Only their tactics for getting in your trousers.
SAMUEL ADDO: Don’t waste your time trying to change anybody’s mind. Instead, make yourself happy.
The thing with becoming friends with Cole was there had been this current between me and Cole, like we were circling each other, trying to ascertain if our friendship or whatever was real. The more time I spent with him, the more real things between us felt. And he was in my dreams… still.
My sex dreams.
Sure, he’d become my partner at work and sort of my friend. Though that was insane. Sure, his friend Tallon seemed okay, but guys like Cole were friends with people like Chad. The Chads were the norm. Not the Tallons. I’d grown up with guys like that. There would always be a comment here, a whisper there. A casual microaggression chipping away at my soul.
Cole and I could never be friends . And certainly not more than that.
I swallowed hard as I grabbed the pillow and shoved it over my head. Maybe if I tried hard enough, I could make these feelings go away.
Except the more I closed my eyes, the more I pictured Cole and that look he’d been giving me that night in Bryant Park, the one that said he wanted to kiss me.
I hadn’t been interested in anyone in nine months. Cole was all wrong. I’d learned that lesson years ago. Also, he wasn’t Ghanaian. Not African. Not Black.
It would be complicated at best. Not to mention we worked together. Wasn’t there someone more appropriate?
And you know better.
Was it time to let my mother actually pick my dates for me?
Never a good option.
I had to get over this niggling Cole feeling. I couldn’t go there.
Which was what I told myself later that evening. It was nearly six thirty before I made it out of my last meeting of the day and headed back to my office, with Emory on my heels. “Any big plans for tonight? Did that guy ever call you? What was his name? Omar?”
I choked a cough. “The last thing I want is for him to call me. One date was enough. Nope. Just work and hanging out with the roommates, trying to exhaust myself into a dreamless sleep.” The Cole dreams had, unfortunately, continued.
“Why dreamless?”
Shit. “I haven’t been sleeping much. Weird dreams lately.” We stopped just outside of my office.
“What kind of dreams are we talking about? The kind where you haven’t gone to class all semester, or the kind that everyone has about Henry Cavill?”
I blew a wisp of hair out of my face. What had possessed me to straighten it? I always missed my curls when I did. “The Henry Cavill kind. Except not about him,” I whispered. The halls were practically empty, but the last thing I wanted was for anyone to overhear me.
Emory laughed. “Then who…” She caught herself, her eyes going wide, then she glanced furtively around. “Oh my God. Did you have a dream about C—”
I placed a finger over my lips to shush her. “Do not speak his name. God, it’s bad enough I had the stupid dream. I don’t need to hear you say it out loud.”
Emory laughed. “Well, I mean, is that so bad?”
“What? This is terrible. First of all, he’s our sort-of future boss. Not to mention, we’ve seen the women he likes. Very much not me.”
“So why the dreams?”
“If I knew, I’d make them stop.”
“Or,” she emphasized, “maybe your dreams are trying to tell you something.”
I shook my head to clear it. “Nope. Not going there. Why did I even tell you?”
“Because you know I will sympathize. I know just how hot he is. And also how much of a pain in the ass he is. If you won’t let me tease you, just look at this as a sign that you are ready to be out there again.”
“Now you sound like my roommates and my cousin.”
“Well, they’re right. Okay, look, take this stack of notes. I’ll go grab the mail and packages. You pack up. Don’t let me find you hunched over your laptop.”
“I’m on it.” I turned into my office and I stopped short at the scent of spicy Chinese food. I was dead on my feet. My stomach grumbled, and I realized I had skipped lunch. Goddamn it. Something else I’d been too distracted to remember. And the object of my distraction was sitting at my desk holding takeout.
“Wow, someone’s hungry. Good thing I brought food.”
Cole was in here all along? How much had he just heard? Oh no. No. No. No. Maybe he hadn’t heard anything. Which I hoped to God was true.
“Is that from Lin’s?”
Cole grinned. “Yeah, I remembered when you were talking to Emory the other day about the best Chinese in the city. So I went to Chinatown. You know they don’t deliver this far uptown.”
I frowned. “But that’s all the way downtown.”
“I know, but I figured if we were going to be working, you would need fuel, right?”
He went all the way across downtown. In traffic.
No wonder you’re having sex dreams about him.
I cleared my throat. “Ah, right. Thanks.”
He studied me closely. His gaze searching my face. “So, Henry Cavill dreams?”
Heat bloomed up my neck and I covered my face. “Oh my God.”
He started opening up all the boxes, and ginger and garlic scents filled the air.
I needed to get Dream Cole out of my mind before I said something insane.
He lifted a brow and smirked. “Who’s the hot not Henry Cavill? Not that guy you were on a date with. Doesn’t seem like your type.” His laugh was rich and clear and made my stomach do this little flip-flop thing that was wholly inappropriate.
I glowered at him. “We are not doing this.”
“Oh, relax. We’re friends now. We can talk about stuff.”
“The jury is still out.” A smile tugged at the corner of my lips. What was my libido thinking?
With mischief in his eyes, he cocked his head and studied me. “Anyone I know?” The teasing note in his voice melted my resolve and made me giggle.
My brows knitted. “We are not having this conversation.”
He plopped down onto one of the office chairs. “That’s okay. I overheard it all anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
A laugh bubbled out before I could stop it. “I swear to God”—I waved a fork at him—“I will gut you, hide the body, and no one will ever find it if you ever mention this again.”
His wink and grin were positively wicked. “That tells me that this dream was excellent .”
The laughter was hard to control. “Nope. It was… adequate.”
That wiped the smug grin off his face. “Adequate?” He stood ramrod straight. “That’s bullshit. I think I can do better than adequate.”
This was the moment when I was supposed to make some quip that would have cut through the tension. When I could have said something funny and light. But my brain-to-mouth connection was clearly on the fritz, because I said, “I’m sure you could.” Like a dare.
The tension that permanently swirled around us ratcheted up from an ever-present hum to a full-blown lightning storm.
The corner of his lip quirked into a smile, and that hint of dimple had a direct line to my vagina. “You feel it too? The tension between us?”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
It’s more than that and you know it.
“It’s just chemistry. We can ignore it.”
He took a step forward. “I don’t think I can.” His voice was all smoke and gravel.
I held my ground, refusing to back away from the wildly terrifying thrill of wanting something I shouldn’t want. “It’s complicated with us working together.”
He was close enough that the delicious, crisp scent of his cologne wrapped around me. I was strong enough to resist, wasn’t I?
Why are we resisting?
“I really want to kiss you. But if you don’t want me to, tell me to stop and I will. We can go right back to being just friends.”
That was my out. My get-out-of-pussy-jail card. Because I’d been down this road before. With him . I knew better. Or at least I should. But I couldn’t find the one word that would put an end to this. I could say “no” in ten languages, but there was not a “nein,” “nyet,” “non,” or “daa-bi” to be found.
And when he reached for me, closing the gap between our bodies, his firm chest pressed against my breasts and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I was dickmatized. Completely enthralled. As he leaned down, my lashes fluttered closed and my breath caught. I wanted this. I wanted hi—
Emory rushed in, leading with her voice. The two of us jumped apart. Emory hesitated for a moment, narrowing her gaze at me. “H-heeey, sorry. Ofos, I grabbed your mail for you from downstairs. I’m just heading out. Do you need anything else?”
I cleared my throat. “Nope. All good here.”
I watched as the smile tugged at her lips. “You sure?”
No. I was not sure. Matter of fact, I might never be sure about anything else in my lifetime. But lying was more prudent. “Yep. All good. Have a good night.”
She left with a smirk, calling out, “Don’t work too hard.”
When she was gone, Cole chuckled. “We are so busted.”
“Wide open,” I muttered as I sat down. My stack of mail fell off the table. Cole leaned close to help me pick it up, our earlier tension swirling again. My gaze caught on something much too familiar. The ivory lettering of a wedding invitation… my wedding invitation. The exact same very expensive, very custom ones Yofi and I were meant to send out. Before he fucked someone in a closet at our traditional wedding. I could see the delicate lace etching around the edges of the envelope.
“Ofosua? What’s wrong?” Cole asked, but I could barely hear him.
I stared at the envelope. It was addressed to me, postmarked two days ago. How was that possible?
I could hear my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Oh my God.”
Cole was at my side. “Hey, what is it?”
I stared down at the envelope, words not forming as the dizziness tried to take over me. Nausea made my stomach roil.
He took it from my fingers. “Looks like an invitation of some sort. What’s the matter?”
I shook my head even as I blinked back the tears and pulled out the card stock. It was all too familiar. Heavy black stock with silver and rose-gold writing. The Honorable Kweku Ade and his wife Ema Ade would like to humbly invite you to the wedding of their daughter Pamela Ade to one Yofi Tutu on the date, blah, blah, blah, bullshit, asshole, bullshit fuckery. My brain started to fill in the words as I went.
Pamela? I knew her. She was a year or so younger than I was. Her mother was a friend of my parents. Had she been the one in the closet with Yofi?
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
It took me a moment to realize I’d been speaking out loud because Cole was kneeling right in front of me. “What does it say?”
I shook my head, dropping the card from my fingers. I needed air. I needed to breathe.
I was going to be ill, and I did not want to throw up in here. Not in front of him.
I ran. I wasn’t even sure where I was going. All I knew was that I had to leave that room. Away from that fucking invitation.
Behind me, I could hear him calling out to me, telling me to wait. I made it to the stairs, and I went up.
Another wave of dizziness hit me, and I wanted it to stop. I wanted to collapse and cry, but I was not going to do that. Behind me, I could still hear Cole, so I ran all the way to the roof. Another ten flights. When I shoved the heavy fire doors open, I staggered out onto the cement and inhaled a deep breath.
I went to the railing and held on tight, dragging in more air, remembering what that long-ago therapist that I’d only seen that one time had told me: breathe deeply.
Somewhere behind me I heard the door open, and Cole’s voice tentatively called out my name. “Ofosua, what’s wrong?”
“I had to get out of there. I couldn’t breathe.”
I could hear his footsteps making their slow approach. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
“No, you don’t have me. He told me he didn’t want to get married. That he wasn’t ready. Apparently, he just didn’t want to get married to me . What did I do wrong?”
Before I knew it, Cole’s arms were around me, holding me tight. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He is a twat. That’s the end of it. Why would he even invite you? God, that’s so fucked up.”
I didn’t want to be in his arms. I didn’t.
Lies.
But he was so strong. And he smelled good. With his arms around me, I felt safe. I felt seen. But the anxiety hovered in the back of my mind. All the self-doubt, the worry, the anxiety, all of it was going to come seeping out if I couldn’t hold it together until I could get home and cry like a normal person. But oh no, even as I held on to the outer seams, I started leaking from the eyes. Fucking tears in front of Cole Drake. Jesus.
But he didn’t run. He didn’t admonish me to toughen up. All he did was hold me tight against his chest, offering me the kind of comfort that I hadn’t anticipated but was exactly what I needed.
COLE
Holding her was the easy part. Watching her body curl in on itself and hearing her sobs tore me in two. I didn’t know what else to do except hold her. I wasn’t even sure that was helping. But I could feel her body, the shaking, the coughing, and all I could do was stroke my hand through her hair and hush her. “You’re going to be okay, I promise.”
“I don’t feel okay. I feel like I’m losing it.”
“Why?” I pulled back and slid a finger under her chin so that she had to meet my gaze. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. And the fact he expects that you would come, or that he should invite you, that’s bullshit.”
“It’s… It’s what you do. His parents were humiliated by the breakup, and they’re probably trying to save face. And you know what the worst part of it is?” She swiped at her nose.
I hunted my pockets for a tissue but couldn’t find one.
She continued. “Those are my wedding invitations. I came up with all of that, by myself , because he couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t care. Which, in retrospect, should have been a red flag, but I was dumb. I wasn’t listening to my emotions, to my mind, and that thing where women know when something is bad for us. We know, and still, we do it, like we pretend and lie to ourselves that it can’t possibly be that bad, that we must be imagining it.”
I sighed. “I wish I had some kind of an answer that might even be a little bit of what you need to hear, but I don’t, other than he’s a dick.”
She pulled back a little to wipe her tears, and then she dropped her forehead back to my chest. And that swell of pride that she could lean on me was even better than finding out she’d maybe had a sex dream about me.
God, how in the world had this happened? A month ago, yes, I was mildly obsessed with her. But I hadn’t known her. Now I knew her better, and the feeling was worse somehow. That need to make her feel better, happier. That was a problem.
Don’t worry about it right now. Deal with her crying now.
“Is there something I can do?”
She shook her head. “No, I have already embarrassed myself too much, and God, fuck my life. I’m so sorry. You brought dinner too.”
Fuck dinner. I’d completely forgotten because I’d only been worried about taking care of her. “Listen, come on downstairs. We’re not going to work. We are going to pull up something awful on Netflix. Something hilarious to take your mind off it. And then we’ll eat Chinese food. You know, like friends.”
“Careful, Cole, someone is going to start to think that you care.”
“I do care. Don’t tell anyone, of course. It would ruin my reputation.”
And there it was, a snort giggle. It seemed like it was against her will, but I would take it. Any kind of smile from her would be better than her not smiling at all right now.
“You know what we’re going to watch? That matchmaking show. I’ve heard it’s a hot mess and I’m here for it. Come on. If anything is going to make you feel better about the shitty night, it’ll be that. Okay?”
She gave me a small nod. “Thank you.”
“For what? Telling you the truth you already knew? Your ex is a douche. You’re smarter than I am, so, of course, you know that, right?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “Yeah, I know that.”
“See. I knew you were smart. He’s a dick, and you don’t have to deal with him.”
She sniffled and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Actually, I’ll have to go to the wedding.”
I stopped short. “You’re kidding.”
“I am not kidding. It’ll be expected.”
“No, no, no. That’s bullshit. There’s no way. You broke up. There’s no way you’ll have to go to that wedding.” I don’t know why, but the idea of her being around that guy made me want to tear through something.
You know what it is. It’s jealousy.
Fine, it was jealousy. But this was worse than that. This was torture.
“You know you can’t go by yourself.”
She laughed. “What, you’re going to be my date?”
My skin flushed hot, and I was grateful for the waning moonlight. “Yeah, why not?” I was probably crimson right now. “Think about it. You and I will go, and we’ll eat a lot. You will show me more Ghanaian food. I will refrain from hitting on any of the bridesmaids because you are my date, and that’s the proper thing to do. And we’ll dance.”
That earned me a second laugh. “I know you think you can dance, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Fine, you’re going to show me how to dance. How is that?”
“That’s really sweet, Cole. I never thought I’d say that to you, but I will figure it out, okay? I appreciate your concern.”
“That’s what friends are for.” Which was bullshit because fifteen minutes ago, we were a breath away from being more than friends.
She laughed then. “Who would have ever thought we would be friends?”
I couldn’t help but laugh too. “Yeah, you know, you were not on the top of my friends list.”
“Well, you were annoying. And you deliberately tried to make me hate you.”
I opened the door to let her into the stairwell. Then the best thing happened.
Ofosua reached down and took my hand. She gave me two simple squeezes, sending a wave of warmth through my chest. I knew what it was. It was a thank-you. But still, that one motion was something I wouldn’t be able to let go of. I wanted her. But for now, she needed me. So whatever she needed, I’d give it to her.
You have got it so bad.
Didn’t I know it.