“I’ll take it. Let me show you where we’ll have our date.”
The exterior of the house is gorgeous. The details in his living room are comforting. But this scene he created in the garden is spectacular. When did he do all this? It’s barely been twenty-four hours since he was at my place.
A table with multiple wine bottles and different glasses sits on one side of the garden. The table beside it has different dishes wrapped in foil. The most shocking details are the giant white tent and the inflatable movie screen.
“Niyi, this is…” My words trail off as he guides me around, and I take everything in.
Like our practice dinner date, strings of lights beautify the environment. Up close, I see five different wine bottles and containers of smallchops. When we get to the tent, the heat welcomes me, and I happily take off my jacket.
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” I say, settling into the cozy pillows and blankets.
“I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I always want to do things for you,” Niyi says, and like all the previous times he’s told me, my heart flutters. Is this the kind of care my dad talks about? Is this what I’ve been missing out on?
“Where do you want to start? Food, drinks, movie—all of the above?”
“One of everything,” I say, feeling cared for.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Wait,” I call after him, and Niyi pauses. “What’s the movie?”
“You’ll see.”
Soon, he’s back with a bottle, two glasses, and a plate of snacks. The plate rests on his forearm, and his eyes are focused on the puff-puff, spring rolls, and samosas. I almost laugh at his concentration, but I help him by taking the plate and setting it on the blanket. Niyi puts the wine in an ice bucket on a stool and the glasses beside them.
He wipes his hands on his dark pants and joins me on the soft cream blanket. “I didn’t think through the transportation part of this.”
“Maybe not quite,” I laugh.
“Must you agree with me?”
“When I disagree, it’s an issue. And now, when I agree, it’s a problem. How do I win?”
“You win all the time,” Niyi says, cozying up to me. His face rests in the crook of my neck, allowing me to smell the lavender and sandalwood of his cologne.
“That is true,” I whisper, shutting my eyes as I breathe him in. The scent takes me back to the night before, and I squeeze my thighs.
Niyi pulls back. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“I’m not being a great date.” Niyi clears his throat. “I have some drinks to introduce and a movie to show you.”
“Or we can continue where we left off yesterday,” I say suggestively, listening to my hormones.
“Moyo,” he says, and my name, usually a prayer on his tongue, comes out like a growl. “One drink and let me show you the movie. Then you can devour me. Is that okay?”
My thighs clench. I nod.
Niyi exhales.
“Here’s a Cava. It’s from outside Barcelona.” Niyi pours us two glasses.
The bubbles dance on my tongue. It’s different from what I’m used to, but there’s a familiarity I struggle to name…because of how intently Niyi’s looking at me.
“Not drinking yours?” I ask.
“I’m thirsty for something else.” He winks, and I practically choke on the wine. “Enjoy the drink. I’ll be right back, just turning on the projector.”
