THE SMALL PARTY

"Make yourself at home." Deep says, locking the door of his apartment, while I stand staring at the beauty of its inside. This guy must be super rich. To have a beautiful house like this one with top-notch furniture, not to mention its surrounding environment, I bet it's worth millions. "Are you done judging my humble house?" His fruity voice behind me sends jolts down my spine.

I said it. I don't trust myself when I am with him. But then, I couldn't refuse him tonight. So here I am, affected even by his voice. "Are you okay?" He asks again, this time standing in front of me.

Shit! Why were my eyes closed? I even confused him, given the way he was looking at me. "Ah..y.e.s. Just absorbing the new air. Your house is perfectly beautiful."

"You are funny. Come." He wraps his arm around my waist and guides me to the comfortable brown leather couch, helping me to sit down. How nice of him, right?

"I will go change real quick. I will be with you in a bit."

"Sure." With that, he leaves, and I can hear his fast steps running up the stairs. I compose myself on the seat, trying to relax because I am a nervous wreck right now. He is too hot for my desperate heart and too tempting for my longing soul.

What's wrong with me? He just told me the other day that his girlfriend vanished two weeks ago. That means he is hurting. He doesn't need any more love right now. What he needs is just a friend to help him overcome what his fiance did to him. A friend to just talk to and crack a few jokes Not some desperate woman like the one in his house right now.

I should stop thinking of him as someone more than a friend. I am sure that kiss at the sea meant nothing for him. I just caught him off-guard, and being the gentleman that he is, he did not want to embarrass me by pushing me away. That's it.

"You look tense. You are afraid of me?" He startles me again with his voice.

He sits next to me, too close for my almost-burning body. It's too hot in here. He puts his index finger under my chin, tilting my face to look at him, which I do. I meet his eyes and say a short prayer inside not to be so obvious about how I feel. "Relax, will you, please? I am not going to bite you."

Bite huh! "I am sorry, Deep. It's just that this feels so new to me. Being alone with a man in his house." He smiles first.

"I understand that. But, like I said, you have nothing to worry about. Deep Moore Azzua is totally harmless." He says.

"Azzua? Deep Moore Azzua? You have such unique names. You are not a real Kenyan, are you?" He definitely is not. I doubt. The names, the looks—they all don't match a Kenyan guy.

"I am. But my mother is a crossbreed between a Kenyan and a Hindu. So I have some Indian genes in me."

"Aah. I see. That explains it, huh?"

"Explains what? My hot looks?" He asks.

"Everything. The names, the looks, including the red lips And the curly hair."

He emits a chuckle and licks his sugar lips, making them look more reddish and soft. If I thought they were beguiling before, now they are an absolute alluring sin. I want to kiss them again, but I control myself.

"Well, yeah. I suppose."

"I would be a very annoying girlfriend. If I were to be your girlfriend." It's time for ranting. I don't even know what made me say that or where I got the courage to say it so openly to him. He cocks his head in my direction.

"Really? How so?" He asks.

"Because I would kiss you at least a hundred times a day and play with your hair the whole day." That got him to laugh really hard.

"That would make you an interesting girlfriend, not at all annoying." He says this after laughing. He then takes my hand, placing it on his head. "You can still play with my hair." He bends a little to level my height, and I, like a child, run my hand through his hair countless times, messing it up. It's so soft. The doorbell rings, cutting my adventure short.

Curse that…

"Are you expecting someone?" I ask him, pushing his back with my two hands.

"It's the delivery. I'll go get the door." He gets the doors and comes back with a box of pizza and a bottle of what? Wine? Alcohol? I thought he said he would keep off alcohol for tonight.

"Alcohol?" I ask, pointing at the bottle as he puts everything on the table.

"Champagne." What is champagne now? As he makes his way to what I presume to be the kitchen, I take out my phone from my purse. I need to know what this Champaign is, just to be on the safer side. He returns with two glasses and some Soviets.

"Time for our small party. Don't you want to take those off?" He asks, referring to my shoes.

Now that he mentioned it, I think I should take them off for a while. "I think I should." I say, bending to take them off, but he stops me.

"Let me, please." Before I could say a thing, I felt his hands on my ankle. He carefully took my shoes off and put them aside. If you show me this much affection, I will be more confused. If you behave this gentlemanly, you will make me fall for you.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do that, though."

"It's my pleasure. It's not every day that I will be honored to have a beautiful woman in my house. It's my own way of showing appreciation."

Appreciation, huh? You have a very nice way of appreciating. If this is you, if this is the real you, Deep, I wonder why your girlfriend couldn't stick to you. With all this kindness, if you were this gentle with her, and if you loved her so much just the way it seems in your eyes, why couldn't she love you the same? Why did she walk away without even caring? Is this an act you are putting in front of me? My heart wants to believe that this is who you truly are. You are not pretending to be nice, right, Deep?

"You still doubt if I am human?" Good thing he spoke, because I was staring again.

"Just wondering if such a gentleman and nice gentlemen like you really exist."

"Oh, so I am nice and handsome?"

"Aren't you?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

I would like to tell him what I think of him. What I feel about him I would like to shower him with all my praise. But I suppose it's too soon. He might be acting all goody just to get me in bed. That thought hurts, but I would rather be cautious. Anything is possible with men when it comes to getting a woman. He might be a devil in a sheep's clothing. I better stop because the more I think about the possibilities of him not being real, the more I'm hurting. It will be a shame if, behind this beauty of his lies, there is a devil.

"Hey, I'm waiting." He says it again, because again, I was lost in thoughts about him.

I stand up and decide to avoid his question. "Pizza is never sweet when cold." He smirks, maybe after realizing what I am doing. I playfully tap him on the chest three times.

"Where can I wash my hands?"

"Right through that door." I walk into his huge kitchen and wash my hands, and I walk back.

"Welcome." He opens the pizza box, and we start munching on it. I didn't know I was hungry until now.

"So, you live here?" I ask as we continue eating.

"No. In Nairobi. But I come to Mombasa often for business." Wow! He lives in Nairobi. My heart is doing a small dance inside.

"Okay." Silence filled the room again. I hate this awkwardness. "I am full." I say this after finishing my third piece of pizza, stretching myself a bit.

"I think I am too." He pushed the pizza box aside. "This is harmless." He said that, showing me the bottle of champagne, and I nodded my head. He fills the glasses halfway and hands me one while he takes the other one. "Cheers?"

"To the miserables again?" I ask.