Page 65 of Cupid Calling
“You good there, Ejiro?” Ameri asked when she’d finally yelled cut.
Ejiro grinned. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
Ejiro waved off the inquiries from the men with generic responses until he got to the room he shared with Obiora. He hadn’t spotted him on the way here, so Obiora was probably inside.
He reached for the door handle and hesitated.
He took a deep breath.
And another.
And another.
He opened the door.
Obiora was sitting cross-legged on his bed and reading a comic, wearing a worn, plain white t-shirt and loose, grey knee-length cotton shorts. Ejiro had seen him dressed like this tens of times.
But Jesus Christ, his legs. His thighs. His coily locks were messy on his head, and his smile was bright and genuine when he noticed Ejiro at the door.
“How was your date?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Ejiro felt attraction slam into him with the weight of a two-ton boulder.
So. Still not a fluke then.
Fan-freaking-tastic.
NINETEEN
OBIORA WAS GOING TO HELL. Had he deliberately taken his shirt off after Ejiro had returned from his date last night, and then gone to bed like that, knowing he was in full view of the other man? Perhaps. Had he come out of the shower this morning with nothing but one of the accommodation’s tiny ass white towels wrapped around his hips, steam bellowing around him as he’d told Ejiro the shower was free? Maybe.
And now, here he was again, playing with fire. Since he’d noticed Ejiro’s attraction to him, Obiora just couldn’t help himself.
His shoulders tensed imperceptibly when he heard the sound of Ejiro’s voice out in the dining area, where Jin was having his breakfast. They exchanged good mornings. Obiora listened to Ejiro’s footsteps as he approached the kitchen.
His lips curved into the tiniest smirk, which he immediately wiped off his face when he heard Ejiro’s sharp intake of breath as he walked into the kitchen.
“Oh,” Ejiro said in surprise, his voice low and breathy.
Obiora looked over his shoulder, casual as you please, and like he wasn’t currently half naked, dressed in nothing but loose white cotton shorts, sliders, and a bright smile. The sliding doors leading to the balcony were open, letting out a stream of the morning’s sunlight, which Obiora was sure was bathing the skin of his toned brown chest in stunning shades of bronze and gold.
“Hey, shower okay?” It took everything to keep the smirk out of his voice.
“Hey, yes, hello, hi.” Ejiro was trying so hard not to stare that he walked right into the kitchen island. “Ow! Jesus Christ.” Embarrassment spilled from him in waves.
“You okay?” Obiora had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing.
“Fine. I’m fine.” Ejiro spun away, heading straight for the fridge. He opened the door and abruptly shoved his face inside. “What are you making?” he asked, voice a little strangled.
“Scrambled eggs, Naija style.” Obiora was enjoying himself far too much. “Want some? I took the liberty of making enough for two.”
“Oh? I’d love some, thank you. That’s very considerate of you.” Ejiro’s head remained in the fridge.
Obiora felt amusement mixed with a sweetly excruciating fondness. He was just about done with the eggs, so he turned off the flames and moved the pan to a cooler burner.
Then, crossing his fingers and praying he still had this right, he quietly made his way to the fridge until he was standing directly behind Ejiro.
Ejiro noticed his steady approach and froze, but his tenseness felt … anticipatory, rather than wary. Obiora’s heartbeat sped up.
