When A Playboy Loves

|| 61.

King

The aroma emitting from the kitchen made me pause at the doorway. Someone was in our kitchen cooking and it couldn't be Uti because I left her in the room. Sound asleep. I continued to the kitchen, Junior was stirring something dark inside the frying pan, Uche was seated on the island while Tomiwa, the only man with common sense among my friends was properly seated on a high stool, the same place Uche should have sat.

"Good morning," I grumbled out and they replied with as much enthusiasm as I did.

Ignoring them, I stumbled to the sink to rinse my mouth while my mind rummaged the possibly places Uti's phone could be. If she hadn't made it sound so urgent, I wouldn't be worried. A smile tugged on my lips as I splashed water on my face, my baby was back and we were expecting our baby, a mini me. It was finally happening. God of babies.

I wiped my face dry on a towel close to me as my smile slowly faded. Uti didn't apologise, she didn't need to, I knew she was sorry. And Tomiwa was right, she didn't mean any of the things she said. A crackle resounded in the kitchen, I spun to face Chef Junior.

"What are you doing?" I asked, making my way to him. "Where did you get this?" The counter was littered with eggs, white powder I could only assume was flour or sugar. The store should be empty, no foodstuffs. There was no point getting them when I couldn't cook and Uti wasn't in the right state of mind to do so. Junior flipped the thing in the frying pan, I shuddered when he licked his finger to show how tasty it was. By sights alone, this meal was horrible. "Junior, what's this one?"

"He says it's Junior's special number," Uche volunteered with an eye roll. I chuckled, delighted to know I wasn't the only one who found that thing in the skillet unappealing.

"Hey," Junior roared, "this is Chef Junior's special delicacy. If you talk too much, no food for you." Laughter tore out of my lips, his threat might work on me not Uche, cooking might not be his forte but he didn't have a problem whipping up a meal. To me, he said, "I promised Esther pancakes." My eyebrow arched. Yes, I couldn't cook but I sure as hell knew pancakes were not that colour. "I'm making it with Milo instead."

The guys and I shared a knowing look, they didn't seem surprised at his admission and I nodded. I would have to trust him. He dished the pancakes into different plates, we settled into the seats by the island and Uche strolled to open the fridge and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Did I see right? 

"Woah." Uche's gaze alternated between me and the orange juice in his hand, I heard the sound of my chair clattering to the ground but I didn't look back. I didn't put that in there, I didn't put a bunch of the things I saw in the fridge. Uche took a step to the side when I neared him. I motioned to the fridge. "Open it." My jaw slacked, I had troubles closing my mouth at the sight of the items inside. Crate of eggs, cartons of juice. Even ice-cream. Tupperwares. Was that a bowl of stew? And soup? "What's going on here?"

The confusion on Uche's face cleared, he slapped my back and returned to his seat. I followed behind with glass cups. Last time I checked, the fridge was empty. I couldn't say I had been awake for up to thirty minutes so how did they get the time to make all these?

"Junior cooked."

My head rotated in Junior's direction, he fired Uche a warning look. "They made me do it."

Tomiwa, closer to him, slapped the back of his head. "Nobody made you do anything."

Uche supported Tomiwa by saying, "It was your idea for us to do this, remember?" He fixed Junior a stare. "We buy, you cook."

The frown that graced Junior's lips showed he was preparing a snarky reply, I interrupted him before he could say it. "Guys. Junior?"

"Fine, nobody made me do it. Since you have a lot on your hands, we just thought to make your life easier." I couldn't be sure why my heart skipped or my lips widened in a smile. If it was Junior's embarrassment at stocking our fridge, the guys thoughtfulness or the fact I had such good friends—a great support system. "A simple thank you will do, why are you smiling at me like an idiot?"