~~~

The days ran by quickly. Mr. and Mrs. Innoson were barely around; I only saw them in the evenings, and even that was rare.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, was completely absent—like he had gone on vacation somewhere.

The house felt different without him, quieter. Too quiet. I told myself I didn’t care, but every time I turned a corner expecting to see him, only to find empty space, something in my chest twisted just a little. I hated that.

My only company was Emma and the library’s endless collection of books.

According to Emma, Nathaniel's grandfather had been a book lover with an insatiable curiosity for authors from all over the world. For the past six days, my routine had been simple and predictable: wake up early, clean up, shower, eat, and then retreat to the library for the entire day.

A lot of people would find this boring, but not me. Each book was like opening a door to a new world. Today was no different. I spent hours engrossed in The Trials of Brother Jero by Wole Soyinka.

It was an exploration of religion and hypocrisy, and I loved every line. Somehow, despite his fame, this was my first time reading Soyinka’s work, and I couldn’t believe what I’d been missing.

When I finally glanced up at the enormous wall clock above the shelves, it was 11:21 PM. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten dinner. Emma had offered to bring me something earlier, but I’d been too absorbed in the book to accept.

Deciding it would be unfair to wake her now, I left the library, shutting the door behind me, and headed toward the kitchen.

As I walked, I checked my Nokia phone for messages from my mom. Nothing. The only notifications were thirteen messages from Glo, reminding me for the umpteenth time that my airtime bundle had expired.

I sighed, deleting them, when I suddenly smacked into a solid chest. Hard. I stumbled back, rubbing my forehead, ready to snap at whoever it was—until I looked up and saw Nathaniel.

We both froze, startled, our eyes locked.

"Hey," he said softly, breaking the silence.

"Hey," I replied, my voice quiet.

Where had he come from?

An awkward moment passed, neither of us speaking.

"Okay, welcome—"
"What brings you up?"

We spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a small, awkward laugh.

"I forgot to eat dinner," I admitted, slipping my phone into my pocket. "I’m heading to the kitchen."

Nathaniel chuckled, his amber eyes sparkling with amusement. "Who forgets to eat?"

My cheeks heated. "I… I was busy in the library."

"Reading?"

"Yes."

He stroked his chin, feigning deep thought. "Not sure your kind of books are in there."

My eyes widened, and my cheeks flushed harder. His smirk told me he was enjoying this.

"Just because you took one of my novels doesn’t mean you know my taste," I shot back.

"Really?" He stepped closer, and I instinctively tensed.

There was something disarming about the way he moved—deliberate yet casual—and when his scent hit me, my brain faltered. Clean, woodsy, and faintly spicy. He’d taken out his braids, tying his curls into a messy bun. His face was as perfect as ever, traces of stubble shadowing his sharp jawline. And God, he was tall.

"Olivia," he said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I blinked, my heart pounding in embarrassment. "Yes… I… Just because… You don’t know anything about my taste."

He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Sure," he said like he was humoring me.

I wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

"What were you reading?" he asked, his voice lower now, his gaze steady.

I hesitated, trying to remember how to form a coherent sentence. "Wole Soyinka," I finally managed. "The Trials of Brother Jero. And for the record, it’s not smutty."

Nathaniel’s grin widened, a wolfish glint in his eyes. "I apologize," he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t sorry at all. "It’s obvious you’re not just into books that get you wet. My bad."

My brain short-circuited. My jaw dropped, but no words came out. My face? Probably as red as a stop sign. I was pretty sure I’d just suffered a minor stroke.

"I don’t get we—" I stopped myself, realizing too late how that sounded.

His expression shifted, like he was imagining exactly what I hadn’t meant to imply.

The air between us grew heavy, and I found myself stepping back without meaning to.

"I rebuke you," I muttered under my breath, snapping my fingers. "Blood of Jesus! Blood of Jesus!"

Nathaniel threw his head back and laughed. It wasn’t the polite chuckle I was used to; this was deeper, freer—like it had caught him off guard. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed, and despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but smile.

When he finally stopped, he looked at me, his amber eyes still warm. "You’re something else, Olivia," he said.

I pressed my lips together, determined not to smile any wider. "I’m hungry, Nathan. Excuse me."

He gestured toward the kitchen. "Let’s make you something. Actually, I’ll make my signature late-night noodles."

I paused. "You can cook?"

He smirked, his confidence almost annoying. "I can do a lot of things Olivia."

My thoughts strayed to places they shouldn’t, and I quickly looked away. This was going to be a long night.

~~~

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