Must Date The Chef

|| 7.

Happy Birthday leeleeian 💝💝

Days go by, my restlessness increases and my nights are haunted with dreams of me and King making out. I always wake up right before we have sex with my pillowcase soaked, beads of sweat on my forehead and an ache between my legs.

The way my body reacts at the mention of his name scares me. I hate the wetness that seeps into my panties whenever my gaze lingers to the couch, the hardness of my nipples, the tingles that crawl up my spine.

I don't like King but my body does, it reacts in ways that are foreign to me. I am used to Edwin's touch which pales in comparison to King's. His touches light my body on fire, send messages to places I didn't think existed and all I want to do when that happens is to beg him to douse the flames with his tongue, mouth and expert hands.

To avoid a repeat of the incident at my office, I stop going to Madiba, sending Chi who doesn't mind to give the reports to Mr Adams. She is always happy to go because it means she gets the rest of the day off.

On one of such days, which is today, I decide to have lunch at The Palace in hopes to see Paul and put to rest this latest attraction, lust for King. Paul is the one I want to kiss.

My seat is far from the spot I usually share with Edwin. It's by the window I sat to celebrate my promotion which provides quite the view of outside like the last time I was here alone. Only now, the place is quiet.

Guilt gnaws at my throat, threatening to engulf me at the reminder of how we ended things but I quell the feeling. He's not worth it. Edwin has not called, texted or chatted me up since we broke up, neither have I.

There's nothing to talk about but if he does have anything to say to me, he has to start it off with an apology and a promise. Whatever the case might be, we are not getting back together. We are done.

"Can I join you?" a voice pierces through the fog in my brain. I smile, tilting my head to the side to meet the gaze of the speaker.

The voice belongs to a tall, handsome man on low cut who has a hand out in front of me. I ignore his hand and focus on his face. The trimmed hairs of his sideburns connect to his equally trimmed beards, leaving me in awe at the shiny, oiled texture. I nod to myself, he pays attention to his looks.

"Can I join you?" he repeats.

My head jerks to his face again and my fingers curl around the tip of my straw.

"Yes, please."

"Thank you," he murmurs and I nod.

He has a Hausa accent that has probably been weakened by time spent in this city with people of different tribes. My eyes linger on his outfit, the black suit looks like it was tailored on his body, his shiny, wine coloured brogues and wristwatch speak volume of his affluence, even his stance.

Taking a sip of my mocktail, my eyes lift to his and my eyebrows raise when I see he is still standing. "You can have a seat."

A strong minty smell tickles my nostrils when he takes the seat across mine then flashes me a smile that has me taking a long sip of my drink. If he is a mocktail, he will be a tall, glass of chocolate milk and I will gladly order him. I giggle at the thought, reminding myself of my mission here.

Tall and handsome calls out to the nearest waiter and my heart miss a beat, I don't want it to be Paul. I don't want him to see me with another man days after having an altercation with Edwin because of me.

Thankfully, the man who approaches our table isn't him. It is Idem, the man who helped me with Paul's name. A smile flits to his lips and his eyes widen in recognition.