CHAPTER SEVEN

The intimacy of them in the backseat ensconced in a way that people who had known each other for years would engage in should’ve been uncomfortable.

Not even a little bit. The weight of Bizzy’s leg settled on her thighs set off a familiarity that she wanted even more of, so she took the liberty of resting her hands on top of his lower leg.

The tantalizing sparks of awareness where they touched made her breathing shallow and rapid. She’d hyperventilate if she didn’t gain control of her body, so Lamisi ducked in deep inhales and releasing them slowly.

What had she been thinking by getting so close to him? Her heart hadn’t settled into a normal rhythm since they’d sat in the same car. Now, she doubted that any part of her body was getting enough blood with the speed the organ was racing.

That’s right—she had wanted to ask her favourite artist questions regarding his work that she was sure no one had ever queried him about before.

Precious caught her attention in the rear-view and smirked as if she understood the lies in the excuse her mind had created.

Now that she knew he didn’t have a girlfriend, she’d ceased fighting the magnetism pulling her closer to him as if they were each tied to an elastic cord that had reached its peak stretch. A wonder she hadn’t crawled on top of him already.

Precious waved towards the sellers surrounding them. “Do either of you want abolo and one-man-thousand?”

Lamisi snapped out of her daze of sensation. “I almost forgot that Alhassan asked me to get him some. He can eat two big bags of the one-man-thousand in one sitting. Please get me enough of the fish and of the abolo to keep him happy.”

She didn’t miss the tightening of Blaise’s calf muscle against her. When she gave him her attention, he was staring at her with a tight frown.

Without thinking, she rubbed her fingers along his shin. “Are you in pain? Should I go back to the front seat?”

His muscles clenched again at her touch, and then relaxed.

“No pain,” he said in the husky voice from their mountain encounter.

His fingers as they grazed her arm spiked a barrage of incredible sensations that caused goose bumps to burst out onto her skin.

“Stay,” he whispered.

The dry state of her mouth made it difficult to speak, so she nodded.

Oblivious to the fireworks going off in the backseat of her car, Precious asked, “Blaise, do you want anything?”

His gaze remained steady on Lamisi. The passion that filled his eyes as the tip of his tongue licked his lips enticed her. Of its own accord, her body leaned closer to him. One more taste wouldn’t hurt. Their first kiss, although nice, hadn’t satisfied.

Halfway toward her destination, Precious’ throat-clearing jarred her out of the craziness she’d been about to indulge in, and she sat straight up.

“Fish or abolo is what I meant by anything.”

“Nothing for me. Thank you.” His low tenor voice brought to mind hot nights entwined with a lover who could satisfy.

Lamisi tore her gaze from those succulent lips to view the cement buildings outside her window as she fanned her face. The same woman who was quick to remove her hand from a person’s grasp during a handshake had been about to initiate a kiss. It had to be the combination of physical exhaustion and the remnants of oxygen deprivation that had her acting so out of character.

Or she’d finally come into contact with a man she had a hard time resisting. Considering that his upper body had risen towards her as she’d closed in, it had been a mutual moment of yearning.

Precious looked between them with a grin before ensuring that the food she’d placed in the passenger’s seat was secure. And then, they were back on the road heading to Accra.

“Who’s Alhassan?”

The hardness in his voice caught her attention more than the inquiry. Was he jealous? It would explain the initial scowl and the tension in his muscles when she had mentioned the name.

She’d asked him quite a few personal questions already. Only fair she reciprocated. “My older brother.”

His head jerked back as if surprised. “Alhassan is an Arabic name.”

“It can be.” Just because she’d give him the information didn’t mean she’d make it easy to learn more.

“Are you Muslim?”

As always, the question asked by someone she barely knew irritated her. What did it matter what name she called God or how she chose to worship as long as she treated people with respect, love, and dignity?

“My mother was a Muslim before she got married.”

She’d asked her mom several times why she hadn’t maintained her religion. Her answer had always been about love and sacrifice. She’d discovered a better life by converting in order to be with her husband rather than to live without him and remain a Muslim.

“She insisted on naming her children, though.”

He leaned closer with interest. “Your name is popular in the north of Ghana.”

“She’s Dagomba from the Northern Region.”

“Do you speak Dagbani as part of your language repertoire?”

Precious interrupted with her laughter. “Don’t even bother asking her that again. Any language you can think of, she probably speaks, understands, or can pick up in like two minutes.”

Lamisi denied with a shake of her head. “That’s not true.”

“Close enough.”

Blaise’s grin took the sting out of her embarrassment.

“If I had your skill for languages, I’d—”

“Become an international spy? A quadruple agent?”

He chuckled. “I was thinking more along the lines of writing songs in lots more languages. But being a spy might be fun. Are you one?”

Making sure her face remained neutral, she cocked her head the slightest bit as she stared at him.

“Do you think I could tell you if I was?” And then, she giggled. “I can’t lie to save my life. With me, what you see is what you get.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a lot to learn.” He winked. “I’m looking forward to taking up the task.”

Either he was a great liar or he really did like her. Would he ask her out when they dropped him off, or was he all talk? The real question raced within her bounding pulse. Did she want to see him again?

To her credit, Precious kept her mouth closed.

“Back to your siblings. How many are you, and what are your names?”

It was as if he knew she didn’t know how to handle the flirtation.

“We’re five in total. The eldest is Alhassan, then Miriam.” She pointed to her chest. “I’m right in the middle. Then comes Ras, and the baby is Amadu.”

“What do you all do for a living?”

She raised her right hand from where it rested on his leg. Her palm cooled when a second ago, it had been absorbing his heat.

“Your turn. Remember that’s why I came back here in the first place?”

Precious’ snicker was the only indication that she’d been paying attention to them. Where was a divider when you needed it? Lamisi wanted Blaise to herself.

Realizing the possessiveness of her thoughts, she rested her hands at her sides, limiting their contact. She needed to keep a clear perspective, and touching him any more than necessary blurred her reasoning.

He raised a brow while the corner of his lips twisted towards the side in confusion. “What was the question?”

She laughed at his adorable expression. “Since your memory is so poor, I’ll refresh it. Who did you write ‘A friend forever’ about?”

And are you still in love with her? Pining for a woman who doesn’t return your affections?

She wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t answer. It wasn’t any of her business. She chewed the inside of her cheek as she willed for him to appease her curiosity. The song beheld a haunting melody, and the lyrics had touched her at a time when she’d fallen in love with a man who never saw her as more than his student.

Time had healed her from the, but regret still lingered at what could’ve been whenever she saw him.

Had Blaise gotten over his own heartbreak, or was his heart still beating for another?

“What if I just made up the song?” he asked.

“I could be wrong, but I don’t think that’s your process. Your music sounds personal.” And touches my spirit with their depth. “Nothing can convince me otherwise, especially after hearing the song you created before we fell.”

His dark eyes seemed to consider her. Or had his mind wandered to the past?

“It’s about someone I loved and lost.”

Precious snorted. “Is that how you’re going to play it? Lamisi picks up nuances in languages like the skin absorbs sun rays on a bright day. She likes your music because of the meaning you attach to it. Unlike most people, we don’t understand every language you sing in. She does.”

Lamisi nodded at her friend’s support.

“Besides,” Precious continued. “If you haven’t guessed, you’ve just met your number one fan.”

Those appealing lips rose into a smug smirk, adding a gleam to his eyes. “Is that so?”

Her face heated to feverish levels as she ducked her head.

“She is. She’s been following you ever since she heard the first song you released. I’m surprised you don’t recognize us from your concerts. She’s dragged me to at least five of them.”

Not needing any more mortifying truths to spill from her friend’s mouth, she gathered her courage and looked Blaise in the eyes. “It was for research purposes.”

Not a complete lie, if years ago she’d been to a psychic who had foreseen coming up with an idea for her doctorate based on his music.

“Uh huh.” The disbelieving murmur from the front seat wasn’t helping her case.

“Your songs inspired me to write my PhD dissertation on the use of mixed languages in music and the impact on the listener.”

His smile broadened.

“I don’t know what impresses me more: myself for inspiring you, or the fact that you’re studying for your PhD.”

“Since I have your injured ankle in my lap, if I were you, I’d praise me going for my doctorate.”

He touched his hand to his chest. “But my magnificence brought it out in you. I deserve the credit.”

Lamisi giggled. “You’re right. It’s all about you. Years of coursework, intensive research, writing, and disappointing mishaps that waylaid my progress with a year left, if I’m lucky, before I stand against a panel to defend my work means very little.”

“When you put it like that … How about we share the accolades?”

She tipped her head from side to side as if considering. “Sounds fair.”

“Have you really been to five of my concerts?”

“Yes,” Precious answered. “We flew out to Lagos for one of them. She knows all of the lyrics and could sing your songs if you ever got sick.”

“Precious,” she hissed. “Please don’t let me inform Blaise about some of the adventures I’ve had with you over the years.”

Her oldest friend caught her gaze in the mirror and clamped her lips together. The smile of mischief stayed in place.

“So, Lamisi Imoro is my number one fan.” He reached out to her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She glanced down at his palm and then back at his earnest eyes before shaking it.

Without warning, he tugged her to him and whispered, “Gorgeous and intelligent, with a great ear for music. A magnificent combination. It would be my pleasure to get to know such a spectacular woman better.”

Her heart took off at a gallop as electric currents shot up her arm and charged her whole body. A slight turn of her head would place her lips against the bristles of his short, well-kept beard.

She struggled to haul in a breath. What was the response to someone she’d crushed on from afar for years?

“Um …”

His mouth against the shell of her ear sent feathery flames along the area with every movement of his lips.

“It’s okay. We can take our time and see what happens. I wanted you to know that I like you.”

His withdrawal left her filled with longing. For once, a man’s direct approach hadn’t irritated her. In the short time she’d known him, he’d done nothing but impress.