Chapter 18: Hello There

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I'm curling the last tendril of hair with eco styler when the doorbell rings.

I glance at the clock to see it's only 8 o'clock -Isren said he'd be running a little late.

Flipping the lid of the open container shut I slide my feet through my slippers and hurry down the stairs.

"Demilade?"

The pretty boy stands on the welcome mat in brown khakis and a red and white baseball tee. Dangling from his left hand is a glittery package and he drops his other fisted hand from hitting the door once more.

"Figured you'd try to get out of a birthday hangout," he says with a smirk as he crosses his arms.

His eyes travel down my face and he realizes I wasn't in the loungewear he had expected to see. "Oh, you look...nice."

I tilt my brows and step aside for him to come in.

I couldn't use going out on my birthday as an excuse, so if I played my cards right I would be able to get him out the door before Iren pulls over.

He steps into the living room and pauses as his eyes meet mine once more. "I thought maybe your mum or someone would be home."

I shake my head at the bashful boy and take a seat on the sofa opposite where he stood.

"Mom's traveled, Dad's at work, and Funmi has moved out," I respond.

"Oh..." Demilade says glancing at the door.

But it doesn't register in my mind as I'm too preoccupied sending my sister a reminder text to pick me on Sunday.

Since it was Dad I could get away with my slumber party till Sunday excuse.

He didn't really care where I went as long as I came back in one piece. Gotta love Dads.

"You know they won't send the gateman on you as long as you're not here to deflower me," I say cutting into his reverie.

"What the- NO!" Demilade exclaims and I drop my phone back on the couch.

"So what do you want?" I ask him in a stern voice and he gives me a playful frown.

"Someone who didn't know you would think you have ice for a heart. It's my fault for wanting you to have a great birthday." Demilade says tossing a pillow in my face.

I'm so irritated I laugh and he chuckles too.

"I'm really in for it this time, aren't I?" I say to him.

"Yup." he goes popping the 'p'. "I have a spectacular idea!"

"What?" I ask him, starting to lose the urge to glance at the clock periodically.

"Let's have an indoor movie day and then I'll make you pancakes -my treat," Demilade says, puffing his chest proudly like he had just told me I won 'who wants to be a millionaire?'

"And will that involve items from my fridge?" I tease him as he takes a seat beside me.

For saying that, he uses half his butt to crush my leg and I struggle under his impossible weight.

He wriggles further and I'm convinced I hear a snap so I admit defeat instead of losing a limb.

"Oya, sorry my bad. They are donations for a Michelin chef like you to feed the needy."

"Exactly!" he says, finally relieving my sore appendages from his tyranny.

"Jerk," I mutter.

"And you are my little beef jerk-y, yes you are, yes you are!" he says to me, nodding his head up and down like I was his dog.

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