The Roommate Agreement (The Agreement #3)

Chapter 1

Daniel

It’s my best friend Luke’s wedding day, my brothers and I are all dressed up and ready to celebrate with him.

The wedding events have been fun. Luke is contagiously happy; his bride Dele keeps beaming at him.

Their eight-month-old twin boys are either excited or asleep during the wedding event.

We’ve had the traditional Yoruba wedding and prostrated before the bride’s family for her hand, then danced and celebrated with them when she was welcomed into the Blythe family.

Luke's dad and Dele's dad wear matching traditional outfits.

According to Luke, who rolls his eyes while sipping champagne, they've spent the entire day talking about buildings and soccer —getting along so well it's "bloody insufferable," though secretly he's pleased they're blending into one sprawling, happy family.

At the reception, I claim my usual spot in the shadowy corner beneath a flower arrangement of lilies.

From here I watch my brothers—Bruce with his booming laugh, Declan gesturing wildly with his whiskey tumbler, Adam quietly smirking at their antics—until Luke breaks away from the dance floor to collapse into the chair beside me, nudging my shoulder with familiar warmth

“Declan, why is your wife and Mrs Lande DeMoore taking pictures with one of my boys, Taiwo?” Luke asks. Declan turns and winks at his wife, Anne.

“Because all three of them are Taiwo. My wife, your son and Lande DeMoore are first-born twins and my wife’s twin is taking pictures with your other son, Kehinde, because they are both Kehinde.”

In that moment, we all watch as they all come together and take another picture yelling ‘Twins’. Luke’s wife Anne and her twin hand the boys over to their grandparents.

I get up to get some air and a quick bathroom break.

I shuffle through the crowd, eyes fixed on my phone, scrolling mindlessly through more emails of issues that can wait but my mind is unsettled.

Everyone around me seems to pulse with joy—flashing in laughter, bodies swaying to music I can barely hear over my own thoughts.

Then, without warning, a woman backs into me, her shoulder blade connecting with my chest. We stumble like dominoes.

My phone clatters to the floor as my arm instinctively wraps around her waist—my palm meeting the warmth of silky skin.

Time slows, the party is muted. I feel the vertebra of her spine press against my sternum as I steady us both.

Her smell fills my nostrils. For three heartbeats, she remains perfectly still in my arms, her breathing synchronized with mine.

Then a hand appears on her elbow—She turns, her lips curving into a smile that stills my heart, in a way I couldn't have imagined.

"I'm sorry," she giggles, the words barely audible but somehow crystal clear to me.

As she disappears back into her dancing, I become acutely aware of the blood rushing southward in my body. Shit!

A brisk walk out of the hall and into the sun to get some air, but I can still feel it. I race to the bathroom to right myself before I can return to the party. I read an email to get my mind of the crazy moment that just happened.

What the fuck! That has never happened to me before. I’m always in control. Control is my call sign.

Back in the hall, Luke is watching his brother Osei dance with his bride, Dele.

“Still scared he might steal your bride?” I tease.

“No, those days are gone,” he said.

“You sure?” I’m surprised at the softness in his words. It’s so different than how he used to be.

He smiles, “Now, they act like annoying siblings.”

I pat his back, still amazed at how far he has come.

Then I see her, that girl. She’s rolling her eyes and smiling at what the guy next to her is saying, same guy that pulled her from me, she's effortlessly elegant and beautiful. Her dress is a simple style, but it fits her perfectly. Her toasted brown skin glowing like it’s dusted with golden sprinkles, and her make up isn’t heavy but flawless.

Elegance and grace are apparent in her movement.

She looks happy and carefree. I could watch her all day.

“Who is that guy?” I ask Declan, he always seems to know everyone. He looks in the direction and sees the guy that’s next to her.

“That’s Kay, Lande DeMoore’s best friend,” he says, and my questioning brow is immediate. “I know, but it’s true. And the lady next to him, I believe, is his younger cousin. Don’t know her name, only that she’s a music teacher.”

I nod, and look away but trust Declan not to let it go.

“She’s beautiful,” I say, which is an understatement.

He smiles and nods. “Do you like her?”

I shrug.

“Will find out soon enough.” He teases

She’s back on the dance floor and I find myself unable to look away from her all evening. Watching her seems to be my new slice of obsession.