The Music Deal (Episode 8)

 Read Episode 7 HERE
“Kofo,” she said as she hugged me. “What’s up?”
“I’m good,” I said as we entered the room. I could see a piano at one corner of the room and few seconds later she was on the piano playing some gentle notes. Her room was the best type of studio because it appealed to my optical, auditory, and nasal nerves.
Her short skirt made me want to pull her to the bed on the other corner of the room. The aroma of the stew coming from her kitchen continued to trouble my nose. I had many things to compliment her about but I don’t know which one to say first.

House and vegetation
“I love the notes you’re playing there,” I said as if I wasn’t salivating for the stew already.
“Thank you,” she said. “Just trying to practice.”
 “How long have you been playing the piano?”
“Probably about eleven years now,” she said. “I started playing when I was eight. My father was a pianist and he was so eager to teach me. I was so eager to learn too. So we were a good team.”
“Yeah kind of. We don’t practice much since I left Lagos to school here. My father was our church pianist and I had to join the choir early to get more playing time.”
“Okay,” I said, “you really play well on the piano for someone who claimed to be average.”
“People say that although I don’t really see myself as a guru. If you hear my father play, he just makes me look like an amateur.”
“He must be madly good then.”
“So madly good. Excuse me,” she said as she left the piano for the kitchen. No better time to register my admiration and interest for the stew.
“That stew smells really good,” I said as she came back to the piano. “I guess you must have been cooking stews before you started playing piano.”
“Nah,” she said, “about three years after I started playing piano.”
“Do you care to sing a song for me?” she said a few seconds later.
“Which song would you like to hear?”
“Heal the world by Michael Jackson,” she said. I sang the song and she played the piano to it. Her performance on the piano made me sound better.
“You sound really good,” she said, “a bit like 2face.”
“That’s good to hear,” it was actually great to hear. How could she mention my favourite musician? “2face is my role model.”
“That’s great.”
“I’ve really missed you.”
“Really?” she smirked. She probably meant ‘me too.’
“Which programme kept you from seeing me?”
“My campus fellowship had a two-day programme.”
“I’m confused,” I said.
“About what?”
“You play piano for your church and campus fellowship. Why attend 2face’s concert?” and sleep with a guy you rarely know?
“I’m just a music enthusiast,” she said. “I’m a liberal, maybe a rebel. Gospel music has its restrictions, I can’t learn very much about music if I only listen to gospel music.”
“What’s your favourite type of music?”
“I like blues and classical music but love to play classical music more on the piano.”
“That’s impressive,” I said as I walked towards the piano and stood behind her. I was so close I could smell her despite the stew. The smell reminded me of the sweet scent that overwhelmed me in the restroom on Saturday.
I turned her around and we started kissing. Few seconds later, we were on her bed caressing each other.
“Wait,” she said as she broke the kiss. “We need to talk.”
She stood up and went towards the kitchen to put off the fire from her stove. She came back looking at me laying helplessly on her bed.
         “We need to talk,” she said again. From our kiss, I knew she wanted to have sex even more than I do but maybe she was back to being a normal girl. Maybe Saturday night was only an exception. Only normal girls would have long talks before sex even though their bodies were itching for it.
          To be continued 
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