When he’d hugged Amaka goodnight later, lingering a little as he did, he’d felt a strange heat in his lower belly at the feel of her body in his arms, the smell of her sweet perfume. It had taken a herculean effort to keep his hands respectfully at the middle of her back, when they’d so desperately wanted to feel the curve of those full hips in his palms.
He’d eventually written his feelings off to being high off the euphoria of the night, and had promptly forgotten all about it.
“Ejiro? Still with me?”
Ejiro blushed furiously, shaking himself out of it. “What? Yes. Good. I’m fine.”
Obiora looked amused, one eyebrow raised. “Didn’t mean to send you off on a crisis there.”
“Will you keep quiet.”
Obiora laughed, then sobered. “Look, I might be wrong, yeah? I’m sorry for immediately jumping to try and explain away your feelings. It’s probably not that deep. As you said, you just didn’t want to kiss Sophia at that moment, and that’s perfectly okay. It literally doesn’t need any more explanation than that. If you still feel uncomfortable, on your next date with her—which is inevitable at this point,” Obiora added a little bitterly.
Ejiro laughed, nudging their shoulders together, grasping at the levity with both hands. “Don’t be jealous, now. It’s your own fault for not doing better.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Obiora grinned. “As I was saying, when next you go out, just tell her the truth; you weren’t ready to be kissed. Also, you should tell her that the next time she wants a kiss, she needs to ask you first.” That last part was said darkly.
“Right,” Ejiro said mockingly, “because that’s sexy.”
Obiora wasn’t smiling anymore. In fact, he seemed a little angry. “It’s not about sexiness, it’s about consent. You came here feeling, as you put it, like shit, because, intentionally or not, Sophia had violated your boundaries. That’s not a joke, Ejiro.”
Ejiro swallowed, feeling strangely flustered, his chest full. He looked away from Obiora, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.
“Right. Yes. I mean … you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Obiora said lightly, trying to lighten the mood once more. “And believe it or not, asking for consent is fucking sexy.”
Obiora winked but didn’t wait for a response, splashing back into the hot tub and wading to the side for the buttons. The bubbles and steam resumed with a low hum.
Ejiro let himself slip back into the water, blaming the heat for the strange flush in his cheeks.
“Thank you,” he blurted, grateful all of a sudden. “For just … I mean—”
“Ejiro,” Obiora interrupted, his gentle tone making Ejiro feel all kinds of strange. “Seriously. What are friends for?”
Ejiro ducked his head, but he was grinning.
SIXTEEN
“YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT WHAT IT feels like to grow up with a twin, while Sophia comments on how it feels to be a single child,” Ameri Shae said to Ejiro from where she was seated across from him in the greenhouse, where they filmed all the cutaways. “Then Sophia leans in to kiss you and you hesitate, briefly, before eventually kissing her back. Go.”
Ejiro clenched his hands in his lap to keep them from trembling. He’d almost asked Obiora to escort him to the filming for his cutaways, but he’d bitten back the request because he didn’t think having an outside audience—even if it were Obiora—would be helpful right now.
“Tell the truth,” Obiora had told him when Ejiro had expressed his worry about the cutaways. “You didn’t want to kiss her, but you did, because you felt like you had to.”
Ejiro had winced at the phrasing.
Obiora’s eyes had darkened. “I get that this is TV or whatever, and that it might look bad if it looks like you don’t want her, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have boundaries, Ejiro.”
“But … I mean, we’re technically here for her.” And Ejiro didn’t want to hurt her feelings, no matter how small, but he didn’t say that out loud because he knew it might anger Obiora even further.
“That doesn’t mean she gets to bulldoze you into doing anything she wants, especially when you’re not ready,” Obiora said, exasperated. “A relationship is a partnership, isn’t it? You both have to be on the same page. If you want a future with Sophia, you can’t build it based solely on what she wants.”
The words had hit somewhere close to Ejiro’s chest. For some reason, they’d made him think about Sam, how his ex had—as Obiora put it—bulldozed him into a relationship, even though, looking back, he’d felt like he’d been ready. At the time, whenever he’d hesitated or expressed his worry at how fast things were moving, Sam would kiss him to shut him up and tell him how cute it was that he was so shy and insecure; “Don’t you like me?” she’d ask, and Ejiro would say yes, even as his stomach squirmed uncomfortably at the admission. “Don’t you want to be with me?” she’d follow up, and again, Ejiro would admit the affirmative. “You’re just … you’re really shy, Ejiro. If I didn’t get you to do things, you wouldn’t do anything. I don’t think we’d even be dating right now.” She’d laugh, and Ejiro would laugh, too, and internalise her words, all the while shoving down how he really felt. She was right, he’d thought, maybe he was just shy and insecure; if she hadn’t asked him out, Ejiro wasn’t sure he’d have ever asked her, and then where would they be?
Back in the present, with the cameras in his face and the directors staring him down, he could feel sweat building up in his armpits.
Obiora was right. If Ejiro intended to have a future with Sophia, then he had to be honest. Yes, it might make him look bad, but what really mattered was his potential future with her. If he lied, or let things go, what if Sophia pushed for more than a kiss, next time? The thought made him feel vaguely ill.
