I'm curling the last tendril of hair with eco styler when the doorbell rings.

I glance at the clock to see it's only 8 o'clock -Isren said he'd be running a little late.

Flipping the lid of the open container shut I slide my feet through my slippers and hurry down the stairs.

"Demilade?"

The pretty boy stands on the welcome mat in brown khakis and a red and white baseball tee. Dangling from his left hand is a glittery package and he drops his other fisted hand from hitting the door once more.

"Figured you'd try to get out of a birthday hangout," he says with a smirk as he crosses his arms.

His eyes travel down my face and he realizes I wasn't in the loungewear he had expected to see. "Oh, you look...nice."

I tilt my brows and step aside for him to come in.

I couldn't use going out on my birthday as an excuse, so if I played my cards right I would be able to get him out the door before Iren pulls over.

He steps into the living room and pauses as his eyes meet mine once more. "I thought maybe your mum or someone would be home."

I shake my head at the bashful boy and take a seat on the sofa opposite where he stood.

"Mom's traveled, Dad's at work, and Funmi has moved out," I respond.

"Oh..." Demilade says glancing at the door.

But it doesn't register in my mind as I'm too preoccupied sending my sister a reminder text to pick me on Sunday.

Since it was Dad I could get away with my slumber party till Sunday excuse.

He didn't really care where I went as long as I came back in one piece. Gotta love Dads.

"You know they won't send the gateman on you as long as you're not here to deflower me," I say cutting into his reverie.

"What the- NO!" Demilade exclaims and I drop my phone back on the couch.

"So what do you want?" I ask him in a stern voice and he gives me a playful frown.

"Someone who didn't know you would think you have ice for a heart. It's my fault for wanting you to have a great birthday." Demilade says tossing a pillow in my face.

I'm so irritated I laugh and he chuckles too.

"I'm really in for it this time, aren't I?" I say to him.

"Yup." he goes popping the 'p'. "I have a spectacular idea!"

"What?" I ask him, starting to lose the urge to glance at the clock periodically.

"Let's have an indoor movie day and then I'll make you pancakes -my treat," Demilade says, puffing his chest proudly like he had just told me I won 'who wants to be a millionaire?'

"And will that involve items from my fridge?" I tease him as he takes a seat beside me.

For saying that, he uses half his butt to crush my leg and I struggle under his impossible weight.

He wriggles further and I'm convinced I hear a snap so I admit defeat instead of losing a limb.

"Oya, sorry my bad. They are donations for a Michelin chef like you to feed the needy."

"Exactly!" he says, finally relieving my sore appendages from his tyranny.

"Jerk," I mutter.

"And you are my little beef jerk-y, yes you are, yes you are!" he says to me, nodding his head up and down like I was his dog.

He even reaches for my hair, but my glare makes him rethink ruining the hairdo I had spent hours on Pinterest perfecting.

Never mess with my hair.

"Easy, what happened to thou shalt not kill," Demilade says holding his hand up in surrender.

"I see you've become the Saint now." I retort, surprised by his defense.

"Who dash me, you that has been a law-abiding citizen since you were born." he counters reaching for the remote.

"Not anymore..." I mumble to myself while his gaze bounces from one movie to the other.

"Ah here's a good one, after this I'll make you my special," he says and he presses the button.

..................

"Haew, where will I find love like that!" I say rubbing my eye with the back of my hand.

Beside me, I hear a sniffle and I look at the equally touched Demilade.

The man had died for the woman he loved even after she betrayed him with another lover, the same one that had come for revenge on her.

I could still see the gunshot wound, and almost smell the metallic aroma of fresh blood, though the credits were rolling in.

"If you find it let me know," he says cutting me out of my reverie, though he seemed to be in the middle of one himself. "Come on I'll need an assistant chef for my culinary masterpiece."

I roll my eyes at the boy but take his outstretched hand so he can hoist me off the floor where we had spread my blanket for padding.

I cringed at the sight -the living room hadn't been swept in days so I was sure to regret this later.

"I sha call dibs on the apron, I'm not going to let you ruin my outfit," I say as we head for the kitchen.

He doesn't spare a look at my orange and yellow floral printed dress and he seems to have returned to his inner monologue. "Fine by me," he mumbles

We're preparing the batter in silence, with me reading from an online recipe book when Demilade suddenly stops whisking.

I quirk my eyebrows and place one elbow on the counter so it can support my chin as I look up at him.

"Mind still on the movie lover boy?" I tease.

He speaks, eyes not leaving the cream goo for a second. "Do you really think God loves us?"

My muscles tense at the question and I gauge for the right words to say.

"The Bible says so," I answer nonchalantly, wanting the conversation to end.

"Yeah but...do you think so?" he presses and I look at him like he's grown three heads.

"I guess it's true just never quite felt like it," I admit after a long pause, to both our surprises.

Demilade finally looks me in the eyes and an understanding passes between us.

"With all the commands and don't dos, it kinda feels like He loves His rules more doesn't it?" he says softly.

I can feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek and I step away to stop the weird feeling inside of me.

"Yeah like if His love is free why do I pay the price of my choice." I continue when I feel bold enough to meet his gaze once more.

By now he's staring at the batter and checking it for large lumps. "This Christianity thing is a lot more complicated than I thought."

I give him a tight-lipped smile in response.

I myself hadn't been able to understand it in the whole 18 years of my existence.

"Enough Sunday school talk I'll be off after these pancakes but I have a surprise for you," Demilade says, his back facing me as he pours a spoonful onto the greased pan.

I hop on the counter and pout at his backward figure. "Come on just tell me what it-"

Ding dong.

My heart sinks in my chest at the sound and I quickly stall Demilade. "I'll get it, I think you can handle the pancakes from here."

"Are you expecting a birthday delivery or something?" he asks turning to me.

My hand tightens around the doorknob and I fix a relaxed smile so he doesn't smell anything fishy.

"Ehn something like that let me go and check it," I say hurrying out the door.

I look through the peephole and I almost choke on the smell of buttery goodness wafting from the kitchen.

There stood, not the driver, but Isren himself in front of my door.

I see him reach for the doorbell one more time and I swing the door open.

"Sorry I'm late I had some business to attend to," he says, brown eyes glittering under the midday sun.

I give him an exaggerated grin and think off the top of my head for what to tell him.

"It's not the weekend yet, why didn't you send your driver?" I ask giggling nervously.

He narrows his eyes at me but answers nonetheless. "I thought you'd appreciate the surprise?"

My smile falters and I quickly reassure him. "Off course I'm happy should we get going now? I'll meet you in the car."

Isren gives me a knowing look and steps away from the door. "You look anxious, are your parents home?"

I flash him a sheepish grin, unable to answer.

"You're going to have to own up to your choices soon, but I'll go move the car. Meet me do-"

He's cut off by a stunned Demilade.

"Okay Nimi your surprise is-" Demilade says clenching the glittery package in his left hand while balancing a literal pan-cake in his other hand.

God, I don't mind if you take me now.