18
I didn’t realise we’d fallen asleep, only jolting awake when Ofure shifted in my arms.
“Sorry,” she whispered, voice thick. She sat up with a sleepy, almost confused looking frown, completely unselfconscious about her nakedness. There was a crease mark on her cheek from where she’d been resting on my pillows.
And that ache in my heart was back. I watched her blink again, slowly regaining consciousness, before she searched around the sheets for her phone. She seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking directly at me.
“What time is it?” I asked, sitting up as well, clearing my throat when my voice came out too rough.
“Just past nine,” she replied. And yup, she was definitely avoiding my gaze.
The ache in my heart twisted into something agonising. I ignored it.
“I should probably go.”
“Right.”
If she was my girlfriend, she wouldn’t have to leave.
If she was my girlfriend, our friends wouldn’t look at us with raised eyebrows if I escorted her back to hers right now to get her toiletries and an overnight bag, just so she could comfortably spend the night, stay in my room—in my bed with me, maybe make love again just before the sun rose.
If she was my girlfriend—
But she wasn’t my girlfriend. And, at least right now, I had to let her go.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She left the bed and began to fish for her clothes. I did the same.
Once we were dressed, she didn’t protest as I silently followed her out of my room. She reached down to put on her shoes before I could help her, and I ignored the vicious throbbing in my chest as I put my own shoes on as well.
She remained silent as we made the short walk to hers, the few inches of space between us like a chasm, growing wider and deeper with every step we took.
I couldn’t let us part like this.
“Fure,” I whispered when we were on the pavement in front of her house.
I reached out to gently clasp her wrist. She didn’t pull away from me, thank God.
But she still didn’t meet my eyes, either.
“Are you freaking out?” I said it teasingly, wanting to somehow bridge the impossible gap stretching between us.
“No,” she said calmly, clearly freaking out.
Oh God, I was so fucking in love with her. I tugged, and she came stumbling into my arms. I couldn’t resist hugging her tight, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. She trembled. After a moment, her arms came around me, too. I exhaled a low, ragged breath of relief.
“Just ...” I had to swallow when my voice threatened to crack. “Just don’t freak out for too long, yeah?”
There was a brief pause. I hadn’t realised how tensely she’d been holding herself until her body suddenly relaxed in my arms.
“Right back at you,” she whispered.
“Damn. Clocked my tea so bad.”
We both let out short, tense laughs.
I wanted badly to tell her I loved her, but I didn’t want her to think I meant it platonically. I didn’t think I’d mean it platonically ever again.
I pressed another kiss to her forehead, then let her go. She met my gaze for one brief, electrifying moment, then she was turning around and fumbling for her keys. I waited until she was inside, the door closed behind her, before I took my leave.
Back in my abode, as Ofure had noticed despite her own distress, I let myself have my own freak out.
I started to pace right there in the tiny entryway, hearing nothing over the frantic drumming of my heart, my thoughts racing a mile a minute.
That was how Prince and Dayo found me.
“O ... kay,” Prince said tentatively, freezing from where he’d been coming down the stairs, Dayo behind him.
Under normal circumstances, I’d have laughed.
He resumed walking down until they were both standing in front of me, mirroring expressions of concern on their faces. “Bros. How far, na? You good?”
I stopped pacing and turned to face them. “I’m in love with Ofure.”
Prince’s mouth fell open. Dayo looked equally gobsmacked. It was a testament to the nature and strength of my friendship with Ofure that my boys were honestly shocked by this development.
Then Prince seemed to realise something, his expression morphing into one filled with mischief. “Ah. Wait, o. Is this—did you do the “first time” thing, then?”
““First time” thing?” Dayo whispered to Prince in confusion.
“Yeah, he came to me a while ago, telling me that he and Ofure apparently wanted a “perfect” first time—was it, you said?—and why not with each other, eh? Since there’s no one else they trust to get the job right.”
“Ah. Right.” Dayo nodded with understanding.
“More or less,” I agreed. Then scrubbed a hand over my face.
“So, I’m assuming it happened, then?” Prince sounded way too excited for my liking.
“Yes,” I admitted grudgingly. I fisted my hair, then began to pace again. “Fuck!”
“Whoa,” Dayo said in surprise.
“Okay,” Prince said firmly. He grabbed my arm, then pulled me in the direction of the sitting room, Dayo following behind.
If I was built like a sort of soft and cuddly muscle man, then Prince was built like a brick shithouse, as that hilarious saying went. Dayo, on the other hand, was mid-sized. Three of us had to squeeze onto our tiny sofa, but none of us complained about the tight fit.
“Am I truly in love with her, though?” I blurted, immediately encouraged by the warmth of their bodies pressing close on either side of me, which Prince had probably been aiming for.
“Or is it just the amazing sex talking? Because, what if I make her jump headfirst into acknowledging these feelings and it turns out it’s just a lingering high from the endorphins?
Or, God, what if I’m alone in feeling like this?
What if I’ve ruined everything with that blockheaded, selfish suggestion that led me here in the first place? ”
There was a brief, stunned silence.
“Is it the endorphins talking?” Dayo prodded after a few more beats of silence.
I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know.”
There was another brief silence, then he whispered, “I think you do.”
For a few moments, I couldn’t breathe. Because he was right and I knew he was right, and he probably knew I knew he was right.
I’d already tried not to think about it before, the night after I’d told Ofure I didn’t want us to stop.
A part of me had suspected it then, but it was definitely confirmed now.
Somehow—completely without my control or knowledge, it seemed—I’d fallen intensely in love with my best friend. In fact, it hadn’t felt so much like falling than instantaneously igniting; I was engulfed in the flames before I’d even realised there was a risk I could burn.
But, God help me, I wanted to burn. And I wanted her to burn with me.
The admission had me feeling like I’d just leapt out of a plane without a parachute.
“So ... do you know, then?” Prince asked gently.
My lips twitched, despite the way my stomach was dipping. “Yes.” But it came out sounding reluctant.
“Don’t sound too happy about it,” Dayo snarked, and we all laughed. “And you’re not really afraid you’re alone in this, are you?” If he sounded sceptical, without even knowing just how deep this shit went, what right did I have to doubt?
“No,” I admitted again, just as reluctantly. I knew Ofure clearly felt something for me, or she wouldn’t be freaking out. I didn’t know if that thought terrified or excited me. It felt like a mix of both.
The truth was, I was deathly afraid of things changing between us. But I wanted her so fucking badly. Change didn’t have to be a bad thing. Right? As long as we were on the same page, we could make this change into the best thing that had ever happened to us.
God. My pulse thundered; my blood felt like it had been replaced with liquid desire—I wanted Ofure to be mine, in every way that mattered. Romantically. Sexually. All the allys.
“Ehen, so,” Prince began when he noticed I wasn’t freaking out anymore. ““Amazing sex”, huh?” He leered.
I rolled my eyes, but I was blushing. “Fuck off.”
“I have to admit, I’m a little jealous. About you guys really going for that “perfect” first time thing,” he clarified when I lifted a questioning eyebrow.
I blinked in surprise. When I’d first broached the topic with him, he’d seemed so flippant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal, at least to him.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, running a hand through his short locs.
“I told you my first time was a disaster. And, I don’t know, I’d never taken it seriously before.
Or rather, I’d forced myself not to dwell on it.
After all, I’m a “man”, and men shouldn’t care about shit like that.
” He rolled his eyes mockingly. “But I’d done it because of the pressure, and it was ... man, it was just ... yeah.”
“Damn,” I said, the word packed with empathy.
Dayo cleared his throat. His voice was always quiet, but he was even quieter now as he whispered, “Yeah, I don’t really want to get into it, but mine was also terrible. Zero over ten, do not recommend.”
We managed small laughs.
“If only we could get a do-over, eh?” Prince joked.
“I mean, I don’t see why not,” Dayo blurted.
He was focusing carefully on his neatly trimmed fingernails.
“If we want to pretend it never happened, pretend to have that moment again, this time while properly mentally prepared and with it being a fully informed choice, I don’t see why we can’t.
It’s not like our future partners are going to know.
Or, rather, even better—if we’re with the right person, then they’ll be firmly supportive. ”
“Right,” Prince murmured. “That ... sounds awesome, actually. I would like a do-over. And why fucking not, eh?”
“Exactly,” Dayo said with a small grin.
And, for some odd ass fucking reason, it felt like I’d completely disappeared from between my two friends. They weren’t even looking at each other, not really, but I could feel ... something in the air. A tension I definitely hadn’t noticed before.
“Anyway.” Prince clapped his thighs, standing. “Can we figure out what we’re going to have for dinner? I’m starving.”