Chapter Two
Fred sat on his bed in the male hostel staring off into nothing, his brain muddled with thoughts that escalatedhis heartbeat above normal. He had no reason to spend Friday night in his hostel room, he preferred weekends away at a room he shared with a friend in town. Worst still, he had no pressing need or reasonable reason to set up his easel and paint but that’s exactly what his heart was urging him to do.
Deep in his heart, he knew it was because of her, and he didn't even know her name or department. Who was she and why had she remained fixated on his brain all through the week? Not willing to examine it critically, he got up and got busy, selecting paints and brushes and other art materials he would need for the day, he packed them inside his knapsack and made sure all other items he needed were intact.
He put on his work clothes, and as the first break of light streaked across the sky, he eased out of the room loaded down with bag, board, and table. He went to the exact location they met a week earlier and set up his easel.
His body taut with anticipation, he went about his chores, made a selection of brushes, mixed the colours and with less attention he would have put into his work if it was classwork or a client’s work, Fred splashed colours on his board as he tried to capture the trees in the field.
After thirty minutes of constantly looking behind his shoulder, Fred, berating himself for his stupidity wondered why a mere encounter with an unknown girl should be a source of emotional chaos in his life.
Suddenly his body tingled and his toes curled excitedly, a sensation he never noticed before. He turned and saw her from a distance in sports gear.
His body taut with anticipation, he went about his chores, made a selection of brushes, mixed the colours and with less attention he would have put into his work if it was classwork or a client’s work, Fred splashed colours on his board as he tried to capture the trees in the field.
After thirty minutes of constantly looking behind his shoulder, Fred, berating himself for his stupidity wondered why a mere encounter with an unknown girl should be a source of emotional chaos in his life.
Suddenly his body tingled and his toes curled excitedly, a sensation he never noticed before. He turned and saw her from a distance in sports gear.
***
Ifeoma saw the lone figure in the distance and told herself to avert her eyes and walk straight to her hostel, but on the brink of taking the right turn towards her hostel, she looked up to steal a furtive glance, and as their eyes met, a shiver went through her body like an electric jolt.
She was bent on ignoring him and the reaction of her body when he raised his hand towards her in greeting. Her footsteps faltered, she looked at him and then at her hostel gate, and against her will, her legs decided for her by walking towards him. Feeling betrayed by one of her body parts, her face tightened into a mask of anger.
Ifeoma saw the lone figure in the distance and told herself to avert her eyes and walk straight to her hostel, but on the brink of taking the right turn towards her hostel, she looked up to steal a furtive glance, and as their eyes met, a shiver went through her body like an electric jolt.
She was bent on ignoring him and the reaction of her body when he raised his hand towards her in greeting. Her footsteps faltered, she looked at him and then at her hostel gate, and against her will, her legs decided for her by walking towards him. Feeling betrayed by one of her body parts, her face tightened into a mask of anger.
***
Joy like he never experienced before surged through Fred's body as he watched her advancing with bounced determined steps as one walking towards a battlefield. Spitfire, as the word, echoed in his head a huge smile broke over his face.
***
Ifeoma sucked in her breath at the transformation, all the sharp angles of his face relaxed with the smile, he stood poised, tall and handsome; a picture of a male model. Heart-breaker, her head cautioned, but already there was a mutiny between her head and her heart, each was determined to go their separate ways. And even her body's treacherous reaction was an indication it wouldn't listen to her brain when it comes to him.
***
“Hi, I’m Fred.” He stretched out his right hand. “That’s if you wouldn’t mind having a splotch of colour on your hand.”
Ifeoma hesitated for a second and thrust out her hand into his. Once again she felt the jolt, stronger and withdrew her hand hastily. He was invading her space consciously or unconsciously, and she was determined to find out why.
“You took off quite unexpectedly last week.” The smile on his face appeared stupid against her grim visage.
“Do you come here every Saturday to paint, because apart from last week, I haven’t seen you here before?”
The huskiness of her voice stirred Fred the more, her voice had none of the girly and flirtatious undertones of the girls who usually flocked around him. Stifling a smile, he asked. “Do you go for your gymnastic classes every Saturday morning?”
A wry amusement glinted in her eyes. “You actually believed that?”
“Do I have reasons to doubt you?” he looked her up suavely.
She snorted. “Gymnastic, my foot.”
"But seriously, weird things happen. With your dainty configuration, I wouldn't put it past you, you have the body for it and also an undertone of compact energy.”
A body, wired like a firework that would go up in flames of passion with just a touch. His lips curved into a smile at his licentious thought.
“Thanks, maybe I will consider taking it up for real.” She glanced at his canvas. “Last week you were so intense with your painting, today you’re relaxed.”
He looked at his board, wet his brush, twirled it inside a colour palette and splashed it on the board in geometric strokes."Last week I have an assignment to submit on Monday morning. This week, the only reason I'm here is just to see you."
Because he wasn’t looking at her, he didn’t see the alarm that jumped into her eyes. “Why are you here to see me?” Eyes narrowed, she waited for his answer.
“Last week, you took off before we could be properly introduced…” he paused and turned to her. “We have an unfinished introduction to conclude.” He grinned. “I’m Fred Ibe, a part three student of Fine and Applied Art.”
At her silence, he raised his brow and waited. Reluctantly she caved in. "I'm Ifeoma Jonathan, a first-year student of Secretarial Administration."
Fresh meat. He hoped no guy had lay claim to her. There's always a mad rush every year by guys to acquire girlfriends from amongst the new students referred to as ‘fresh meat'. He grinned as his look turned to appraisal.
"Yes, fresh meat," Ifeoma said reading his thought and look accurately.
His grin widened. “Has any guy been territorial?”
The appreciative gleam in his eyes made her voice hardened. “I was sent here by my parents to learn how to bang a typewriter and decode shorthand, not to bang guys or decode their lies.”
His voice rang out in a deep, throaty male laugh. Another word, Feisty, popped into his head. As his thought roamed wild, his eyes roamed over her body, ‘bang’, how apt the comparison.
His mind wandered into forbidden territory, as he wondered what it would be like to have her beneath him on a bed, his hands roaming over her body, her tight lips melting under his kiss and their bodies joined in a banging sensation. Just imagining the action gave him a hard-on. He shook his head to dispel the lustful picture his mind had conjured.
“Do you come here every Saturday to paint, because apart from last week, I haven’t seen you here before?”
The huskiness of her voice stirred Fred the more, her voice had none of the girly and flirtatious undertones of the girls who usually flocked around him. Stifling a smile, he asked. “Do you go for your gymnastic classes every Saturday morning?”
A wry amusement glinted in her eyes. “You actually believed that?”
“Do I have reasons to doubt you?” he looked her up suavely.
She snorted. “Gymnastic, my foot.”
"But seriously, weird things happen. With your dainty configuration, I wouldn't put it past you, you have the body for it and also an undertone of compact energy.”
A body, wired like a firework that would go up in flames of passion with just a touch. His lips curved into a smile at his licentious thought.
“Thanks, maybe I will consider taking it up for real.” She glanced at his canvas. “Last week you were so intense with your painting, today you’re relaxed.”
He looked at his board, wet his brush, twirled it inside a colour palette and splashed it on the board in geometric strokes."Last week I have an assignment to submit on Monday morning. This week, the only reason I'm here is just to see you."
Because he wasn’t looking at her, he didn’t see the alarm that jumped into her eyes. “Why are you here to see me?” Eyes narrowed, she waited for his answer.
“Last week, you took off before we could be properly introduced…” he paused and turned to her. “We have an unfinished introduction to conclude.” He grinned. “I’m Fred Ibe, a part three student of Fine and Applied Art.”
At her silence, he raised his brow and waited. Reluctantly she caved in. "I'm Ifeoma Jonathan, a first-year student of Secretarial Administration."
Fresh meat. He hoped no guy had lay claim to her. There's always a mad rush every year by guys to acquire girlfriends from amongst the new students referred to as ‘fresh meat'. He grinned as his look turned to appraisal.
"Yes, fresh meat," Ifeoma said reading his thought and look accurately.
His grin widened. “Has any guy been territorial?”
The appreciative gleam in his eyes made her voice hardened. “I was sent here by my parents to learn how to bang a typewriter and decode shorthand, not to bang guys or decode their lies.”
His voice rang out in a deep, throaty male laugh. Another word, Feisty, popped into his head. As his thought roamed wild, his eyes roamed over her body, ‘bang’, how apt the comparison.
His mind wandered into forbidden territory, as he wondered what it would be like to have her beneath him on a bed, his hands roaming over her body, her tight lips melting under his kiss and their bodies joined in a banging sensation. Just imagining the action gave him a hard-on. He shook his head to dispel the lustful picture his mind had conjured.
“I guess any guy who makes an attempt at toasting you will have his head roasted, even before the words come out of his mouth.”
“Precisely! I’m glad you got the message loud and clear before you start scheming lines in your head.” Ifeoma said without a grain of smile on her face.
His smile never wavered as he stared at her steadily. That’s my girl, his heart sang, he didn’t know where the line came from, right now he looked and thought like a man besotted. No woman had ever made his heart flipped; he had never had a compelling urge to possess a woman like he felt right now.
Women fell into his laps in doves, and he had always taken his pick, enjoy the short rumble and tumble; short because none have been able to sustain his interest for long. His longest relationship lasted six months, not that he wanted it that way, but he discovered too late that Anastasia had long claws that were hard to unclasp. It took him months to pull her talons out of his life; she was beautiful but emotionally insecure, he got tired of assuaging her ego and breaking loose wasn’t as easy as he thought. He was just recovering from that experience.
As he watched her walk away, he knew she belongs to him and he would go after her with every arsenal in his possession. His primordial instinct heightened at the thought of the chase ahead, the hunted had turned the hunter. A trickle of excitement ran down his spine. Gosh! Was he ready to make a fool of himself because of a woman? The stupid grin that broke over his face was answer enough. Insanity just knocked at his door and he was ready to go out of his way to embrace it happily and willingly.
“Precisely! I’m glad you got the message loud and clear before you start scheming lines in your head.” Ifeoma said without a grain of smile on her face.
His smile never wavered as he stared at her steadily. That’s my girl, his heart sang, he didn’t know where the line came from, right now he looked and thought like a man besotted. No woman had ever made his heart flipped; he had never had a compelling urge to possess a woman like he felt right now.
Women fell into his laps in doves, and he had always taken his pick, enjoy the short rumble and tumble; short because none have been able to sustain his interest for long. His longest relationship lasted six months, not that he wanted it that way, but he discovered too late that Anastasia had long claws that were hard to unclasp. It took him months to pull her talons out of his life; she was beautiful but emotionally insecure, he got tired of assuaging her ego and breaking loose wasn’t as easy as he thought. He was just recovering from that experience.
As he watched her walk away, he knew she belongs to him and he would go after her with every arsenal in his possession. His primordial instinct heightened at the thought of the chase ahead, the hunted had turned the hunter. A trickle of excitement ran down his spine. Gosh! Was he ready to make a fool of himself because of a woman? The stupid grin that broke over his face was answer enough. Insanity just knocked at his door and he was ready to go out of his way to embrace it happily and willingly.
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