Page 31 of Cupid Calling
Old-Ejiro would have pretended not to notice and looked away, desperate to avoid any sort of confrontation, good or bad.
But New-Ejiro felt bolstered by his win last night; New-Ejiro couldn’t help but read the challenge in Obiora’s eyes and react. There was something about Obiora that made Ejiro feel like he was a teenager back in secondary school, desperate to beat his “rival” at every little thing.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.
Obiora jerked his head in the direction of the pool, his dark brown eyes dancing with mischief.
It took a moment for Ejiro to get it.
“Are you serious?” he said out loud, even as his heart started to pound.
“What? Are you scared?” Obiora wiggled his eyebrows.
“Don’t be childish.” Ejiro scoffed. “And stop doing that. You look ridiculous.”
Obiora laughed. “Come on. What’s the harm, Usain Bolt?”
Ejiro blushed. “Don’t call me that.” But he was moving to the starting position. The need to wipe that smirk off Obiora’s face had him blurting, “You sure you want to do this? I’d hate to embarrass you a second time.”
“Oh, it’s on,” Obiora growled, though the tone was still playful. “On your marks, set, go!”
He dived in before Ejiro could react.
The freaking snake!
Ejiro followed quickly. His world narrowed down as it usually did when he was in a race, his focus on getting to the finish line, completely ignoring his opponent.
He shot out of the water first, Obiora a split second behind him.
“Ha!” he cried triumphantly. “Cheaters never win,” he couldn’t help but crow, panting a little.
Obiora laughed breathlessly.
“Is cheating in your blood or something?” Ejiro asked, the question coming out playful despite himself. “Can you just not resist?”
Obiora laughed again, using both hands to push his wet curls back from his face, squeezing the water out down his neck. “Oh jeez. Please no. I am not a cheater.”
“Right,” Ejiro drawled.
“Okay, I know all evidence points to the contrary, but I’m really not. I’m serious. Trust me.”
“That remains to be seen, but whatever you say, Obiora.”
Obiora laughed again. “Are you, like, a pro-athlete or something? Is the whole chef slash artist thing just a cover up?”
“That’s exactly it,” Ejiro said, eyes dramatically wide. “You’ve done it. You’ve uncovered my nefarious plan.”
“Fuck off,” Obiora said, laughing again.
Ejiro felt stirrings of pleasure in his lower belly at how easily he seemed to be making Obiora laugh. Whatever was left of the grudge he’d still been holding against him for his slight on night one finally dissipated.
“So,” Obiora began lowly, like they were sharing a secret. “You won the Red Heart last night.”
Old-Ejiro would have turned bashful and waved him off or changed the subject.
New-Ejiro smirked.
“I did,” he said, a little cockily.
