HOSTILE TAKEOVER (final)

When I got to the table that night, Busayo stood up to greet me: unusual, but not out of character.

I stuck my hand out but he only stared at my face.

“Sorry sir, is everything okay?”

“What are you apologizing for?” His voice sounded different - rough, edgy, and a little dark.

“Oh… umm… nothing. We don’t have to shake hands, sir. I just assumed—”

“Can I give you a hug instead?”

Busayo and I had exchanged a side hug once or twice. But those hugs were quick and perfunctory - they never lingered.

“Kay, if I overstepped, tell me and I will apologize. Otherwise, I need a response from you. Now please.”

I felt something stir deep inside me. And also between my legs.

Arousal?

Fuck.

Something about the way he spoke to me in - that firm and direct way - scrambled my brain.