14 DAYS OF VALENTINE'S

"Seriously?" I quirked an eyebrow in amusement as I took in Nick's outfit then mine. He looked confused for a moment but then his eyes shimmered like thousands of stars, a lopsided grin graced his lips. After helping him clear his out a bit, he's asked where he could find the nearest warehouse, and instead of just telling him direction, I offered to take him there.

"Look at that," he drawled having his full. "Great minds think alike," he added and threw my head back laughing. We were both dressed in a matching outfit. Both in grey sweatpants and black t-shirt.

"More like you copied me." I retorted , making my way towards him.

He let out a soft chuckle, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Oh, of course. Because I totally saw you getting dressed from across the street and thought, 'Yep, that's the look today.'"

I crossed my arms, pretending to ponder. "Sounds suspicious."

Nick stepped closer, head tilting again—ugh, why did he have to do that? 

"And here I was, thinking you'd be pleased we matched," he murmured, his voice laced with something too smooth, too teasing.

I fought hard to reign in the smile that was fighting to let it's presence known. "Please. Like I care." I scoffed, looking away. 

"Mm." His hum was skeptical, and somehow, just that made me feel ten times more flustered.

"So full of yourself," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I started walking away from him.

Nick fell into step beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips.

"I hope I won't cause you any trouble," I slowed down, giving him a confused look. "If your boyfriend sees us matching like this..." he trailed, shrugging. My lips twitched and I wanted to stop and laugh at his face but kept my pace anyway.

"If you want to ask if I have a boyfriend, then just ask," I scoffed. But even as I said it, I was biting the inside of my cheek, suppressing the smile threatening to break free.

Nick didn't miss a beat. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Why? You want to be my boyfriend?" I shot back, lifting a brow, determined not to let him win.

"Why? You want me to be your boyfriend?" he countered smoothly.

I squinted at him. " Why are we suddenly trapped in an endless loop of whys?"

Nick laughed. "Why are you the one pointing it out now?"

I groaned, throwing my hands in the air. "Great. We're stuck. This is it. This is our life now. Just 'why' until the end of time."

Nick smirked. "Why do you make that sound like a bad thing?"

"Ugh!" I quickened my pace, mostly to hide the ridiculous grin on my face.

Nick let out a low chuckle, jogging to reach me. "It's so fun teasing you."

"I'm glad someone's having a great time," I grumbled. "And for your information, I'm very single. Too single, in fact. To the point where my friends never let me hear the end of it."

I didn't have to answer, but something about telling him felt... harmless.

Nick hummed thoughtfully. "So, we're both single, then." I pursed my lips, trying very hard not to look pleased at this new information.

"I never asked that," I mumbled, eyes looking anywhere but him.

Nick chuckled, and when I glanced at him, his expression was pure amusement. He was definitely enjoying himself.

"I know," he murmured, almost inaudibly.

And yet, I heard it.

And I felt it too.

"I was thinking," I said, slicing through the silence that had settled between us. "Before we hit the hardware store, how about I treat you to something special? Trust me—you'll love it."

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed his hand and picked up the pace.

Nick arched a brow. "Should I be concerned?"

"Only if you've got a weak stomach."

Ten minutes into our walk, we stopped in front of a small but popular roadside stall. The scent of sizzling meat filled the air, rich and inviting. Behind the counter, a tall man draped in a maroon Maasai shawl worked with practiced ease, his head bowed in concentration.

The moment he looked up and his eyes landed on me, a wide smile spread across his face.

"Eish, here comes ma wifi...!" he drawled, adding a touch of drama, as always. It wouldn't be Jay without a little performance.

"Hi, Jay," I replied with a rueful smile, stepping up to stand beside him. His hands never stopped moving, expertly tossing and turning the roasting meat.

"For a moment I thought you'd forgotten me. You can be cruel when you want to be," he teased, throwing me a sideways glance.

"You saw me last week," I said, reaching for a piece of meat. I hissed as it scorched my fingers.

Jay moved to swat my hand but missed as I popped the piece of meat into my mouth, grinning. He shot me a mock glare, and I laughed.

Jay was our friendly neighborhood guy: the undisputed Mutura king. He stood tall—like six-something tall—with warm brown skin and neatly tied dreadlocks that matched his effortless charm. The kind of man who flirted with half the neighborhood and still somehow stayed likable. Maybe it was the charisma. Maybe it was the Mutura. Probably both.

Three customers walked up, and I stepped aside to let him serve them. Turning back, I found Nick watching the whole exchange with a surprised, slightly curious look on his face.

"Don't tell me you've never had Mutura before?" I asked baffled, unconsciously poking hos chest. Nick snickered, grabbing my finger into his large hands. My body automatically warmed. .

"Oh, I've had it plenty of times. The real question is—can you handle it?"

I gasped dramatically. "Are you doubting me?"

"Not doubting, just… surprised. A lot of women I know avoid it. Something about fearing an upset stomach." His reasoning was valid, seeing how mutura had a reputation for upsetting stomachs most of the time.

Mutura, is a Kenyan delicacy made from spiced meat and blood stuffed into a casing. It wasn't exactly everyone's idea of a light snack. But for those who could handle it, it was gold. And Jay's mutura especially had a kind of legendary status—flavorful, greasy, unapologetic. 

I crossed my arms. "Well, I happen to have a stomach of steel, thank you very much."

He laughed. "Good to know. Though some people also say street food isn't the cleanest."

I snorted. "Please. Ever heard the saying, 'The best food is found in the humblest of places'?"

His laughter deepened, a rich sound that earned curious glances from nearby customers. Once he was done serving, Jay turned his full attention to me. His eyebrows rose as he glanced at Nick, and then his expression shifted, overly dramatic and wounded.

"Why are you with another man? Are you having an affair?" he gasped, clutching his chest as though I'd just run a spear through it.

I snorted and rolled my eyes. "Jay, the only love affair happening here is between me and this," I said, rubbing my hands eyeing his mesh.

His expression snapped to dead-serious in an instant. "Cold. So cold," he muttered, shaking his head in mock dismay. "At least introduce me before you break my heart any further."

I sighed, half amused. "Jay, meet Nick. Nick, this is Jay—the self-proclaimed heartbreak prince who's only redeeming quality is his cooking."

Jay smirked, extending a hand. "Pleasure, man."

"Likewise," Nick replied coolly, shaking it.

"Friend, is it?" Jay drawled, eyes flicking between us with suspicion.

That's when I felt it. Nick's arm casually draping over my shoulder. His touch was warm, firm, and dare I say... possessive? My heart did a little traitorous flip as I stared up at him in confusion.

What's he playing at?

He was already looking down at m, a roguish grin on his face. I wanted to correct Jay but decided against it.

Jay was about to speak when a familiar voice called my name from behind.

I stiffened. Oh no.

Turning around, I found my friends approaching slowly, their expressions a perfect mix of surprise and barely contained curiosity.

Jay, unfazed, clapped his hands together. "Ah, the beauty of having more brides!"

I groaned as he grinned at my friends. Meanwhile, Nick—completely unaffected—offered me a bite of mutura.

"Thanks," I muttered, taking it from him, pretending not to notice the way my friends were already dissecting the situation with their eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

Carrie, ever the fashionista, was in a black twist-top and jeans, topped with a maroon jacket that screamed style. Lizzy was equally striking in a black-and-white striped crop top and loose blue pants; her look was completed with a trendy sling bag. We had an unspoken rule: when one wears pants, we all wear pants.

"This is quite the surprise..." Lizzy remarked, eyeing Nick and me. "...and to think we pegged our friend here as the shy type. Who knew she had a streak of lightning in her?" she teased, and I closed my eyes briefly.

"I'd say the speedy one is the boy next door," Carrie chimed in, smiling ruefully at Nick and I groaned internally at their mischief. 

"He's got to be a heartbreaker." Carrie continued. " Just remember, break her heart, and you'll have three furious women on your trail," she warned playfully.

"Psychotic ones, at that," Lizzy added, her tone half-joking, half-serious, prompting a hearty laugh from Nick.

"Stop it, you two," I said, turning to pay Jay.

"I take the warning seriously. The fact that you ladies savor blood sausage says it all," Nick replied, his hands up in mock surrender.

"Now that you call it blood sausages, it does sound a bit ominous," Carrie said with a shudder, stepping closer to the stall.

Jay immediately broke into song. "My African beauty—"

"I'm taken, Jay," Carrie cut him off, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and helping herself.

"Maybe," Jay leaned in, voice dropping with mock sincerity, "but he hasn't paid the bride price yet. So I still have a chance, right, my beautiful Onyinye?" He turned to Lizzy with a grin.

She scowled at him. "Just how many wives are you planning on having?"

Jay smirked, casually leaning against the pole behind him. "If you three are willing to have me, then it'll only be you. My heart is overflowing with love: limitless, eternal, and all yours."

Nick and I chortled at his over-the-top declaration, that was Jay to you.

With my friends' arrival, we all jumped in to help Nick with his hardware haul. The boxes were heavy, but the teamwork (and occasional dramatic groans) made it almost fun, well, except for my friends' not-so-subtle matchmaking attempts, which had me blushing like a fool.

"I can't wait to see the final glow-up," Lizzy said, spinning around to take in Nick's place. We had just finished hauling everything inside his house.

"Same here. Bob's chaotic aura is already fading," Carrie added with a satisfied nod.

"Ugh, let's not even mention that man. The peace and quiet since his departure is a gift," I declared, sharing Lizzy's relief.

Bob had a legendary talent for mess-making, and how he ever charmed any of those one-night stands was beyond me. Then again, money had a funny way of working miracles.

"He certainly left a mark," Nick commented, shoving his hands into his sweat's pockets.

"You have no idea," I said with a knowing look. "Anyway, you should probably get some rest. You've been at this all day."

"And don't even think about arguing," I added quickly, predicting the stubborn glint in his eye. If left unchecked, I was certain he'd be hammering away till sunrise.

"We get that you rescued this place from disaster, but take it slow, alright? You'll need the energy for tomorrow," I pointed out.

"Okay, okay—thanks, Mom," Nick said with a playful scoff.

I shot him a deadpan look. "That's a very disturbing statement, so I'm just gonna let it slide. Goodnight and sleep well," I huffed, turning on my heel to leave.

Behind me, my friends burst into laughter, their amusement echoing as they waited for me on the porch.

"Goodnight to you too," he replied.

I had just turned to leave when his voice stopped me.

"Um, I was wondering… if… we…"

For the first time, the ever-confident Nick sounded hesitant. Well, this is new. His fingers raked through his hair, and I had to admit—it was kind of adorable.

"I never got your number?" he blurted out, catching me off guard. Okay, didn't see that coming.

I smirked. "You never asked for my number." Might as well have some fun with this.

"Can… I have your number, pretty one?" He said smoothly, his usual flirtatious tone back. I bit my lip to suppress a grin and tilted my head. "Hmm… and why exactly do you need it?"

"You know, in case of an emergency," he said with a lazy shrug. "Like a break-in… when I need cat woman to the rescue."

I let out a soft laugh, my insides all fuzzy and giddy. "Well, we can't have that."

Still teasing, I took his phone, my fingers brushing his in the process and an electric spark shoot down my fingers to my core. Suppressing a reaction, I entered my number. Handing it back, I shot him a wink. "Try not to abuse this privilege."

"I thought I was supposed to take full advantage of my neighbor," he quipped, his smirk deepening.

I tried—really tried—to suppress my smile, but it betrayed me anyway. "My bad then," I said with a toothy grin, taking a step back.

"Goodnight, beautiful," he called out.

And just like that, every nerve in my body came alive. It wasn't just a word when he said it: it was a brushstroke, painting color into my world in a way I hadn't expected.

As soon as I stepped out of his house, the magical moment shattered.

"What was that all about?" Carrie's voice cut through the air, her eyes glittering with curiosity.

"Oh, you have so much to spill, beautiful," Lizzy teased, mimicking Nick's voice with dramatic flair.

Laughter bubbled up in my chest, but I said nothing, only smiling as I hurried into our house. The urge to talk was strong, but the pull to pour my thoughts into my diary was stronger.

>>>

Dear Diary,

Oh, I am melting, I am anticipating.