Page 71 of Peep

“Oh, look weh wi have here,” Femi interrupts.

Shit.

We both freeze, lips locked. When we pull apart, Jahmar makes a tiny whimper of disappointment and turns to face her, cosying up beside me. I guess the cat’s out of the bag.

“I suppose we have something to tell you.”

“Look like yuh do.” She stands with her hand on her hip, wearing a wide smile. “Oooh, suh dis a why yuh did wha mi recipe, fi impress yuh man?”

My cheeks flame in an instant. I’ve tried to mentally block out that failure of a dish. Jahmar nudges me with his elbow, smirking smugly. I swear to god, if he outs me for my horrendous cooking skills, no blowjobs for a week.

“No comment,” I mumble.

Femi cackles, unexpectedly stepping forward and dragging us into a three-way hug. Well, this is awkward.

“Yuh a go mek mi a granmada?”

My eyes widen, and Jahmar splutters a laugh.

“Well, we’ve been practising, but I’m unsure if conception is possible,” Jahmar jumps in.

I gasp, shoving him and feeling utterly mortified.

Femi’s brows crease. “Mi nah understand.”

“It’s probably for the best. Jay, piss off, you’re late for work.”

I take his arm and lead him to the fire exit instead of going out from the front. Femi’s infectious laugh rings behind us as we step out into the crisp autumn air.

“You’re a bloody nightmare,” I say, trying not to smile.

“But, I’myournightmare.” He pecks me on the cheek and squeezes my hip.

“That you are…I love you.” It still makes me feel slightly dizzy every time I utter those words.

“I love you too, little lion. Try not to bite anyone’s head off today.”

“I’m making no promises.”

He pulls me closer for one more deep kiss before idling to his car, looking over his shoulder more times than necessary just to smile at me.

Oh god, when did we become so insufferable? I wave him off like some fucking Stepford housewife, and when I walk back into the building, Femi’s beaming at me.

“Not a fucking word.” I shove past her as she cackles behind me. I won’t hear the end of this.

After a few hours of working, it’s time for our tea and biscuit break.

“Oooh, what you got for me today? I see you brought the fancy tin.”

“Hell a top, hell a bottom, an hallelujah inna di middle.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Femi chuckles, peeling the tin open. “Sweet potato pudding to yuh.”

“I think I prefer the other name.” I lean forward to sniff the cake, and it’s rich in spices. I’m pretty sure I smell coconut, but there’s also a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg.

“It kinda smells like a tropical Christmas.” I beam at her, slightly giddy to tuck in.

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