Page 23 of Primal God

“Thank you.” Needing to get this conversation moving in a different direction, I ask, “So, what brings you to the library today?”

This makes him groan. “An unfortunate mission from my father, I’m sad to say.”

“Wow. Cryptic.”

“I’m totally joking. I just need to do some reading for a class and my mom hovers when I’m at home. A Nigerian mother through and through.”

“I see. So you escaped to the library for some peace?”

“Indeed.” He leans forward. “And I found myself a damsel. Tell me, Lili, do you need rescuing?”

“Maybe. Guess you’ll have to find out, Adam.”

I don’t date often, mostly because I’m too busy trying to just get by. In my experience, guys get tired when you have to blow them off to pick up an extra shift to ensure you make rent. And if my crazy work schedule doesn’t turn them off, finding out that I have a six-month-old baby does.

But I’m also tired of being lonely, and Adam seems like a nice guy.

“Does this mean I get your phone number?”

“Sure.”

He unlocks his phone, and I rattle off my number. A moment later, my phone buzzes as a text comes through.

Unknown

This is Adam.

Your new best friend.

Best friend, eh? I like the sound of that.

Do you? I’m glad.

I snort. “Are we really texting across the table to each other?”

“Isn’t that what all the kids do these days?”

“Whoa, you’re sounding like my grandpa there.”

Not exactly true, since I don’t actually have a grandfather, but he gets the idea because he laughs.

“I did sound likeBàbá àgbà,didn’t I?”

“Bàbá àgbà?” I try to say the words the same way he did, but I don’t think I succeeded.

“It’s ‘grandfather’ in Yoruba.”

“I’m jealous, and not just because you speak another language.”

“No grandfather?”

I shake my head. “Nope. No family, sadly.”

Other than my baby. The thought has me pausing. What’s the etiquette for telling someone you have a kid? First date?

“Damn. I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

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