EPILOGUE
I looked out the bus window, bouncing my knee. I couldn’t wait to get back home to Ofure. My lips turned up automatically; calling it that—home—where Ofure was waiting for me, never failed to make my nerves all aflutter.
My phone began to ring. My smile widened when I saw “Mummy” flash across the screen.
“Ey!” I hailed dramatically, though I kept my voice respectfully low. “How’s my Able Mummy?”
“Uzezi, it’s too early to start with this your nonsense.”
“Ah, ah, mummy, it’s almost six o’clock.”
“Ehen. I hear you.”
“Digwo, mummy,” I said, laughing.
“Vredo, my darling. I’m sure you already know why I’m calling,” she said, launching right into it.
I could burst with love for her, her excitement wiping away some of the exhaustion in my limbs, despite my feelings of accomplishment and fulfilment.
“How was it? Your first day as a real businessman.” The way she said businessman, with the proud emphasis of a Nigerian mother made me laugh again.
“It’s literally an internship, mummy. I’m not quite an official businessman just yet.”
“Haven’t I taught you not to argue with your mother?”
I laughed again, then gave her a quick rundown of my day.
I hadn’t done much; it had mostly been an introductory day, with me shadowing the junior architects, being shown the ropes of how their firm worked and what duties I’d be doing, what sort of projects they were looking forward to bidding for and how they expected me to participate, and that was basically it.
And even though I’d made up my mind that this was what I wanted to do, finally being here, on the first day of my “nine-to-five”—as Ofure had taken to calling it—really cemented things for me.
I couldn’t wait for the rest of the internship; couldn’t wait to finish this whole “plan” and start my life properly, Ofure by my side.
“Still,” my mother said when I finished, “I’m so, so proud of you, honey. I can’t believe my boy is all grown up.”
“Mummy,” I said playfully. “You dey burst my head, o.”
“Oya, let me stop before it gets too big.” We laughed. “How’s my future daughter-in-law?” I could imagine her winking conspiratorially as she asked.
I literally nearly sighed like a cartoon character with heart eyes. “She’s doing fine, mummy.”
Unsurprisingly, my parents, along with Ofure’s, were ecstatic when we officially told them we were dating.
It wasn’t news to us that our mothers had always not-so-secretly been hoping and praying for this exact outcome; it used to be a big source of discomfort and irritation once upon a time, considering our feelings had been strictly platonic and we’d been sure that would never change.
How the turns have tabled, eh? Ofure would have laughed at that reference.
The thought made me smile. Damn, the guys were right. I really was disgustingly in love.
Once we’d broken the news, our mothers had been adamant it had everything to do with their prayers and nothing to do with what Ofure and I may or may not have discovered about ourselves. We let them have their win, obviously.
“That’s good. Have you booked your tickets to come home this Christmas? It feels like I’ve been saying this for ages; you know that the earlier you book it, the cheaper the tickets will be.”
“I know, I know. We’ll get right on it, mummy.”
“So, you haven’t booked it, then?” She sounded disapproving, as she should, because she’d only been reminding me to do so since she and the rest of our families had come in the summer for our graduations, spending two weeks with us before going back home.
I ducked my head sheepishly, even though she couldn’t see me. “I know, I know. I’ll do it tonight, mummy, I promise.”
“Okay, o,” she sing-songed, which told me she wasn’t really upset.
I grinned, looking up and quickly pushing the “stop” button when I noticed the bus was finally nearing home. Ofure. My heart skittered. “I’m getting off the bus now, mummy.”
“All right, my son. Your father sends all his love. Take care.”
“I love you both so much. You take care of yourselves, too.”
As I made my way to the familiar block of flats, I smiled at the memory of how our summer had been filled not only with multiple graduations, but practically back-to-back house warmings, with me and Ofure getting our own flat, Fiona moving into a bigger place with Tamara and Ezra, and Dayo and Prince moving in together—with, shockingly, each consecutive pairing doing so romantically.
Turns out, as I’d kind of suspected, Prince wasn’t as straight as he’d thought, and Fiona, Tamara, and Ezra apparently weren’t as monogamous as they’d thought, though they were only interested in dating each other.
I swiped my fob and made my way to the lifts.
Ofure and I had managed to snag a flat a few floors down from Fiona, Tamara, and Ezra, while Prince and Dayo had snagged one somewhere in the middle.
Bernice had moved in with her culinary arts friends—and her queerplatonic girlfriend, after she and Hafsa had apparently worked out and agreed on what they wanted in a relationship—on the other side of the city from where we’d previously lived.
My heart was pumping with anticipation and adrenaline as I pushed my key into the lock; one would think it was the first time I’d left Ofure at home or vice versa.
I felt like a dog waiting desperately for their master to come home, even though I technically wasn’t the one doing the waiting.
Today felt different, though. I’d tried to downplay it to my mother, but she was right; it felt like I’d just started a whole new chapter of my life, and that was a big deal.
“Fure, baby,” I called, kicking off my shoes. Something smelled incredible. “Is that your signature fried rice I smell?” I said with a giddy grin, entering the living area.
And coming to a sudden and complete halt.
There were balloons everywhere. Hanging from the ceiling was a colourful banner with the words, “Congratulations on your first day!”
My eyes darted to the left, to the kitchenette, where my girlfriend was standing, leaning back on her palms against the kitchen counter.
Wearing nothing but a mischievous smile and an apron.
“Hi,” she said. “Welcome home.”
I yanked the strap of my shoulder bag over my head, letting it thunk carelessly to the floor, then began fumbling with the buttons on my shirt.
“Oh my God, Uzi,” she said, bursting into laughter. “Can you—can we—”
“You knew exactly what you were doing,” I interrupted, my voice low and dark. “Don’t play coy, now, Fure, baby.”
“Okay, Uzi, baby.” Her hands moved higher behind her, then her apron was loosening, and she was taking it off and dropping it to the floor.
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
I gave up on trying to get my clothes off, stalking up to her, wrapping my arms underneath her ass and lifting her off her feet.
She squealed, wrapping her arms around my shoulders, laughing breathlessly as I marched us down to our bedroom, then unceremoniously dumped her on the bed. I climbed in after her, spreading her lovely, thick thighs without fanfare and ducking down.
“Uzezi.” She tilted her hips up needily.
“Already moaning my name?” I teased huskily, placing a soft, sucking kiss to her inner thigh. “I haven’t even started.”
My mouth was on her pussy before she could give me a no-doubt witty retort.
Her hands flew to my fro, gripping the short curls tight.
She was already wet—so fucking wet for me.
Had she gotten naked the moment I’d texted I was on my way back?
Had she been squirming, practically naked, turned on—imagining all the things I’d do to her once I spotted her all wrapped up like the most delicious present?
The ample evidence against my lips said yes.
Like she wanted to prove my theory right even more, it took barely three minutes of me eating her out before she began to shake, her thighs squeezing around my head. Fuck, fuck. I had to hump the bed for some relief, just as turned on as she was.
“Uzi,” she cried. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming—”
I groaned encouragingly, not stopping even after she stiffened with a hoarse cry. I kept going, stroking her shaking thighs, my dick pounding with every sexy sobbing moan that spilled from her lips until she was lifting her hips, nearly cracking her spine in half as she came again.
I knelt up when she melted into the mattress, gasping, trying to catch her breath. I’d barely managed to undo two more buttons on my shirt when she blurted, “No, wait, stop.”
I paused, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
“Fucking hell.” She swallowed, blushing. “You just—you look so fucking hot.”
I was in a simple pale pink, long-sleeved button down and neatly pressed black cotton trousers. But I knew what seeing me like this was doing to her; she’d tried to climb me like a tree this morning. Only my fear of being late on my first day had kept me from letting her.
I dropped my hand from my shirt to my belt, unbuckling it slowly. Her hungry gaze followed the movement of my hands, as if she was hypnotised.
“Want the clothes to stay on?”
Her eyes darted back up to meet mine, wide and dark with arousal. “Jesus,” she whispered, biting her lower lip, too scandalised to admit it.
I smirked. “Noted.”
I got my belt and pants open, shoving my underwear low enough that my dick and balls were exposed. I leaned over her, reaching for the bedside drawer for a condom.
When I began pressing my sheathed dick inside her, it seemed to suddenly hit me just how erotic this was; my dick was peeking out from the opening of my trousers, my shirt still on, sleeves rolled up to my elbows, while she was buck ass naked underneath me, her pussy bare and glistening, framed with a soft thatch of dark curls.
It was my turn to hiss out, “Jesus,” my eyes riveted on the spot our bodies were coming together as I sank into her inch by slow inch.