Page 12

‘Yeah.’

‘Gold?’ she says with some generosity, throwing Bakari a bone, hoping that he at least got my favourite metal tone right.

I wince. ‘Silver.’

Aminah gawps at me. ‘No.’

I sigh, resting my chin on the base of my palm. ‘I know.’

‘How did I not know this?’

‘I didn’t want you to know it.’

Aminah considers offence, tilting her chin slightly and narrowing her eyes. She then nods decisively. ‘You know what? I really respect you not telling me. Gifting heart-shaped jewellery is like someone proposing on Valentine’s Day.’

I stretch out my hands in the air. ‘Thank you! Or having a Great Gatsby-themed New Year’s party.’

‘Unoriginal.’

‘Redundant.’

‘Right? Like the theme is already glittery enough! The theme is innate in the event.’

Aminah shudders and shakes her head. ‘You think he has a workplace kink? Didn’t he have that “Yes, Chef” fantasy?’

I gasp and slap her hand. ‘Oh my God. Thank you! He fully wants to do upFifty Shades of Bae.Also, when I told him to, um... talk to me in bed, all he could come up with was, “You’re a star”, which felt kind of boss adjacent. But, like, not in a hot way.’

Aminah nods and sips her Chapman like it’s an elixir of knowledge. ‘See. This is what I do. Connect dots. Part of what being a communications executive means. And whatyoudo is create on your own terms. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t do that. You would at least want to find something else of your own to replace The Heartbeat, but I guess it was his way of being concerned. No offence, but he’s kind of like an alien who is learning to be human. In a cute way!’ she rushes to add. ‘His silver pendant heart was in the right place. And that’s the only amount of generosity I’m gonna give him.’

I smile, warmed by the fact that, as usual, I didn’t have to explain. She knows me. That little hiccup before was a glitch. We’re good. We’re always good.

‘We’ll figure it out,’ I say. ‘Besides, this is your moment! You’re getting married to your second-best friend! We spoke about this when we werenineteenand now you’re spending your life with the guy who you loved enough to let him finger you in the photobooth during the Afro Winter Ball just before you got crowned king and queen—’

‘It wasn’t fingering.’ Aminah smirks and we click back into place. ‘That’s so crude. It was very good pressurised pleasurable rubbing.’

I choke on my glug of water. ‘And this is less crudehow?’

Aminah ignores me and looks wistfully at the ceiling in what looks way too close to a flashback for my comfort. ‘So weird, though, that after ten years that moment remains memorable—’

‘Well, though you were pleasurably pressure-rubbed by him before, this pleasurable pressure-rubbing did mark the formal start of your relationship.’

Aminah nods sagely. ‘And also yours. The Afro Winter Ball, not the PPR, which I have now decided I want to turn into an initialism.’

‘I guess it might come in handy in the future.’ Aminah releases a delicate snort that sounds how a fairy might when it sneezes. In my top-five favourite sounds. ‘Well done. Anyway, that was also the night you had sex for the first time. I’ll never forget the look on your face over those dry-ass continental-breakfast croissants the next morning at the hotel. I justknew.’

‘Yeah. You passed me a muffin and asked me if I wanted it buttered. With a fucking wink,’ I say with a roll of my eyes, as a bizarre heat rushes through me at the memory. It resists repression, surging forward into my mind’s eye, stubborn and searing. Soft hot lips pressing against my skin, sensations so decadent they felt like sin. He’d gently kissed every part of my body till I was soft enough to melt into the moment, feel safe in it. He made sure everything in me was assured of his want, which made my own want make itself known between my thighs and in sighs and in goosebumps and in nails into his back, and in IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, a new taste on my tongue, but familiar in its feel.

I swallow. This is just sexual frustration. It’s biological, not emotional. This is basically just like hunger. Or needing to go to the bathroom. It’s been a while since I had sex. Not even PPR. I haven’t seen Bakari in a month, but, even so, we hadn’t had sex in two due to his travels. Also, my boobs feel particularly perky under my fitted black T-shirt. Clearly, I’m ovulating.

Aminah’s eyes widen with a little too much glee. ‘Ohho.Are you joking me? See your face just blushing anyhow.’

I flick my eyes to the ceiling, partly to dramatically demonstrate exasperation and also so she can’t look deep into my eyes and therefore my brain. ‘Aminah, please. I can’t blush.’

‘We’ve been through this– you absolutelycanblush. Your cheeks glow more, and, also, when you’re blushing you bite your lip, and you literally just did that about sex you had eight years ago.’

I hitch a casual shoulder up and flip my braids across it, hoping it will dispel the heat crawling up my body. ‘I was actually biting my lip with the effort of trying to remember the first time I’d had sex because actually I’d forgotten, so thank you for the reminder.’

‘Wow, sarcasm. Prickly. See, I knew you were discombobulated by this Malakai thing—’