Unhinged by his White Heat (Unhinged Erotic Romance Series, Book 1)

Chapter 4

Kema aimed the remote at the TV and switched it on. The DVD player resumed playback of the TV show, Nikita. She settled onto the springy, supple carpet, legs crossed. Mmm. Back to watching Nikita take down Division.

Wumi fell back onto the back rest of Kema's cream sofa. Her eyes scanned the mini sitting room. Her lips twitched. At least Kema's flat wore splashes of color—unlike its occupant. The golden-brown drapes meshed with the sofa and sole armchair. She loved the blue-and gold patterned carpet.

But the electronics were another matter. A massive plasma TV overpowered the opposite wall. Two tall loudspeakers, planted on either side, competed for supremacy. Then there was the DVD player, the DSTV decoder, the music box. Really, one would be forgiven for thinking that this was a man's flat...

Wumi's gaze touched the TV screen. She shook her head, saying, "I don't know why you love shows about ninja women who take down men."

"She's not a ninja. Anyway, it's better than always watching re-runs of America's Next Top Model and Tiwa Savage's music videos..."

"Oh, you be quiet." Wumi said, laughing.

Kema grinned though her eyes remained glued to the TV screen.

"But seriously, Kema... what will you do?"

Kema flicked her friend a glance. "About?"

"You know about what."

Kema gave her friend her full attention. She said, "I need to hear what Nike has to say and if means having lunch with him, then..."

Wumi slid to the edge of her seat, winking at her friend. "Don't act as if it's a hardship."

"Oh, Wumi. Stop it. You know I'm still in love with Ikenna."

"In love with someone who broke up with you. Good. Wonderful."

Kema huffed. Switching off the TV, she spun around to glare upward at her friend. "No matter what you say, I will always love Ikenna. He was my soul mate—in fact, he still is. No man can compare to him."

"Ye-s-s-s... And yet he couldn't do without the sex so he took off. Even though you helped him out, on occasion." Wumi made an up and down motion with her fist, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

"Do you think I should have—" Kema stared down at her carpet.

Wumi squealed, pinching her friend's cheek, "Are you crazy? You weren't ready to go all the way with him. It was your choice. If he really loved you, he would have waited—after all you were both planning to get married."

Yes, Wumi was right. Kema knew that—somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind. But she couldn't just move on. He'd been her first true love.

So why did her senses zing in Oliver's presence?

Wumi bounded up. "Come on." She grabbed her friend's arm, and heaved.

"What?" Kema frowned.

"If you're going to have lunch with Oliver, you're going to have to wear something other than black. Come on, let's go."

Kema dragged her feet as Wumi giggled, tugging her toward the bedroom. She steered the reluctant Kema past the gigantic bed and in front of the wardrobe.

Wumi released her friend. Kema folded her arms, staring at her.

"This is crazy... everything is black or blue."

"Not everything." Kema indicated some tops and shirts.

Wumi sniffed. She flipped through the selection, muttering, "a white... a grey.... in a sea of black."