Honey and Spice(48)

I blinked. “What?”

Malakai’s voice slid back to normal, low and gravelly, loose with a slight south London saunter. “Nah, but do you get it? Sucks? Because of the vampire thing? They suck blood—”

“Yeah man, I get it, it’s just . . . what? Malakai, that’s really, really bad.”

He rubbed his chin as he slid into my side of the booth. “Shit, really?”

I shifted along my seat to allow him in unthinkingly, not even questioning the switch in positions. “Dude.”

Malakai leaned in closer, explaining as a professor would. “Wait, okay then, what about: ‘You would have thought a vampire would have paled in comparison to a werewolf.’ ”

The laughter had steadily built up inside me and I was doubled over, all but falling onto his legs. I felt tipsy, giddy with something I wasn’t entirely sure of, the butterflies now drunk on the sugar high in my belly. I clamped my hand over my mouth. “Oh . . . my . . . gosh . . . that was . . . s-so, so bad. . . . You’re such a fucking dork.” My voice ended in a squeak from the strain of keeping the mirth in. I was too hysterical to be distressed by the fact that I think that what I was doing could have been categorized as giggling.

Malakai was laughing too, but regarding me with some disbelief as I recovered and lifted myself up away from his legs and wiped the corners of my eyes.

“Wow. Okay. This is . . . unexpected and humbling. Nah, stop laughing, it cut me deep. She said she didn’t ‘get’ it.”

I shrugged, little bursts of amusement still spilling out of me. “I mean, I got it, Kai. It was just”—I drank some Coke to drown out the residual chuckles and shook my head, blinking at him innocently—“You think maybe that joke is the real reason why she broke up with you?”

Malakai forced his face straight. “Okay. That’s enough. You know what? I take it back. You’re a very mean person, Kikiola Banjo.”

An errant giggle leaped out. I feigned being emotionally choked up, flattening a hand against my chest. “Thank you.”

“I like it on you, though.”

I stirred my straw through my Coke. We were sat so close to each other in the booth that our knees bumped, reminding me of that time in FreakyFridayz before Aminah interrupted us.

“Probably a fetish. Your ex-girlfriend was mean, but you probably just got bored of her meanness. Didn’t hold the same allure. My meanness is fresh. It probably fascinates you. Maybe you like the challenge more than the person—”

“Kiki, why are you doing that?” Malakai’s smile was simmering into something more serious.

I swallowed and twitched my shoulder, the air shifting to a heavier tone in the same shade. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Yeah, yeah you are. You started talking in the abstract. Flipped the attention off you. Theorized what I said. That’s what you do on your show. This isn’t the show, Kiki. This is just . . . a guy and a girl hanging out. Under weird pretenses, but still. We’re hanging out for real. And I’m saying that I like hanging out with you.”

I held his gaze, trying to find the glint of deceit in his eyes, trying to source a clue that would lead me back to his playbook. Yet again, I came up short. I was glad I came up short. I surprised myself by wanting to come up short.

I shifted, leaning my elbow on the table and curving my palm against the side of my neck as I stared up at him. “You don’t even know me—”

“I’m getting to. I like the bit that I’ve got to.”

His arm was behind me, resting on the back of the booth. He was looking at me from a distinctly kissable angle. All it would take was a few inches of movement from either one of us. His eyes fluttered briefly to my lips and a butterfly flipped inside. Oh no.

I sat up and changed tack.

“We should probably talk about the logistics of this. While we’re here.”

Malakai looked genuinely puzzled. “Logistics?”

“Um. Like . . . physical logistics of pretending to be part of a couple and working on your film?”

Malakai’s eyes popped open as if he’d just remembered why we were here. “Oh, right. Yeah, absolutely. Sure. I’ll follow your lead. What do you think about public hand-holding?”

“Fine. Not sustained hand-holding, though. Only enough for people to see and then I’ll fix my hair or something.”

“Sure. We’re going to have to hang out at public events for a bit so that means FreakyFridayz, café for breakfast, maybe twice a week? House parties too. I have a few birthdays coming up and they’d be great to source interviews for the film.”

I kept my groan internal. House parties were my own form of personal torture. “How are you invited to so many parties? You just got here.”

“What can I say? I’m a delight.”

I grunted. “Fine. Also, um, no more kisses.”

There was no getting around the fact that I was physically attracted to Malakai Korede. I was attracted to him to a degree that would have got me seriously concerned if I didn’t know that we were fundamentally incompatible. Though it was true the more time I spent with him, the more I discovered things I liked about him. Like how when he looked at me as I spoke it was as if he was holding every word I uttered for safekeeping. But that was neither here nor there. The kissing rule was just a case of establishing professional boundaries.