Page 66 of Two’s Better

“Aw, come here.” She pulled me into a hug, and we stopped walking so we could hold each other properly. “I’m so happy you figured it out.”

“Thanks,” I said, blushing, feeling weirdly self-conscious.

“Damn.” She pulled back a little, her arms still wrapped around my middle. “You sure you can handle the joint pressure from our dads?” she teased. “Because you know once they realise I’m definitely out of the picture, they’ll laser point their energy directly at you.”

I laughed, resting my palms on her shoulders. “I can take it,” I replied with a careless shrug.

Her eyes seemed to darken, her gaze dropping briefly to my lips before meeting mine once more. My belly flip-flopped.

“At least they’ll still have an heir to take over the family business, eh? That should further reduce my father’s disappointment.”

“Right, so. About taking over the family business ...” I began dramatically, and she burst out laughing.

“What does that mean, Uzezi? Don’t do this to me, abeg.”

“What?” But I was laughing, too. “I’m just ... considering my options. They won’t die if I decide taking over their firm isn’t something I want.”

“My father will literally collapse.”

We snorted, our bodies curling into each other with mirth.

And suddenly, I could see my future with Ofure with almost painful clarity. How we could keep going exactly like this, pretend the past few days hadn’t happened, and everything would eventually go back to what had been our “normal”. There’d be moments, of course—times when we’d both remember what had happened these magical few days, but it wouldn’t come between us because we wouldn’t let it. Things would still change—they couldn’t not, after everything—but this change would be smaller. Safer. And eventually, over time, as we perhaps got to meet and fall in love with other people, it wouldn’t have felt like a change at all.

But I didn’t want that.

“Do you want to go out with me?” I blurted. Ofure’s eyes widened. “On a date,” I clarified before she could misconstrue what I meant.

“Yes,” she said breathily, with absolutely zero hesitation.

It felt like my heart was a firework because my chest was absolutely exploding into sparks right now.

“Right now,” I added, deciding on a whim that I didn’t want to wait any longer. I wanted her to be mine as soon as fucking possible.

“Right now?” She laughed, her eyes bright, her arms tightening around me.

“Right now,” I repeated with a grin.

She laughed again. “Yes,” she repeated, no hesitation.

My chest was puffing up without my control. “I mean this for real, by the way. I’m not asking you out toward an end or ... whatever. I want to go on a date with you ... because I want to. Because I want you.”

“Yes,” she said again, staring into my eyes intently. “I mean, me too. Same here. I ... want you, too.” She ducked her head, blushing. Damn, I loved her so bad. I wanted her so bad.

“All right, then.” We’d stopped just at the junction to her street, so I reluctantly pulled myself out of her perfect embrace. “I’ll give you some time to get home and get ready. An hour sound okay?”

“An hour sounds perfect. What should I wear? Or are we winging it?” Her voice was almost trembling with excitement.

Fuck, I loved her so much. I ran through some ideas with lightning speed. “Wear something comfortable, but pretty,” I settled on with a wink. “Text me your colours when you’ve decided, and let me know when you’re ready. I’ll come get you.”

“All right.” She laughed again, seemingly for no reason at all, and began making her way down the street, walking backward for a few feet like she didn’t want to take her eyes off me just yet.

I blew her a kiss. She grinned, wide and exuberant, reaching out to catch it, before pressing her clenched fist to her heart. I wanted to say fuck it, run right up to her and ask her to make things official right fucking now, but I had the makings of a brilliant plan, dammit.

I watched her go, laughing with her every time she glanced back to find me still standing there, waiting until she’d closed her door behind her before spinning around and quickly making my way back the way we came, heading for the shops on the main road. I glanced down at the time as I half-walked, half-sprinted. I had about an hour, give or take, to hopefully whip up a memorable first date, because cooking up something “perfect” on the spot was probably completely out of the question. Good fucking luck to me.

20

Dancing. Uzezi had taken us dancing. Yet another one of our shared dream dates, and something we’d planned to do so many times—practically almost every time we came to the City Centre and happened to pass by the sign exclaiming, “Walk-in dance classes; just come in and join!”