Fragments of Faith

Aminat Shehu pointed the needle up and tapped the syringe. She was a nurse, and today, she had a new patient.

Oh, he was a big man, and his type made her blood thrum and her heart swoon, but she was working, and Mr. Tall, Dark, and ill was about to be pricked. "What are you doing?" The patient blinked, his once arrogant grin tightening into a grimace.

"Making sure there are no air bubbles. Wouldn't want one in your vein, would you?" He jerked his arm back. "Wait, what happens if I get an air bubble in my vein?"

"You'd get an embolism, light-headedness, shortness of breath, pass out and die. Nothing to worry about." She said nonchalantly as she latched on to his forearm. "Hold still."

Snickers came from the other nurses beyond the privacy curtain. The man leaned forward, winking at her with sultry eyes. He flexed his bicep. "Bet I can break that tiny needle of yours."

"And get it embedded in those precious muscles? She scoffed, I don't think so. Chance of infection, septic shock-" She shook her head slowly. "Possible amputation."

He closed his chocolate eyes and turned toward the curtain. "You win, little nurse."

Arrogant wuss. The bigger they came, the harder they fell.

Aminat might be a petite nurse, but she held the advantage and the needle. She jabbed it in the skin of his muscular upper arms. He winced, the playful glint in his slanted eyes dimming a little. A chiseled jaw, straight nose with a slight flair over full fleshy lips, and slightly long hair that was made for hands to be run through them.

She rubbed his arm with alcohol-his body heat and a hint of brut body spray inviting her to linger. Probably a player. Bet he flirts with all the nurses.She picked up the second vial, of tetanus injection. "How many am I getting?" Mr. sexy-and-scared asked.

"Two. Since you're new, then we will see you in six weeks and after that, you will be at maintenance dose, which is every ten years."

He trained dark-chocolate eyes on her. "Guess I'll be seeing you in six weeks then?"

Aminat steadied her breathing and stuck the second needle deeper. "Depends on the rooster and who is on call. You might get Chizzy or Temi"

"Ow! I have a basketball meet coming up. Is my arm going to be sore?"

She dabbed the tiny spots of blood with a tissue. "No, but you might experience massive swelling, itching, vomiting and an anaphylactic reaction."

"Ana what? Aminat kept a straight face. "Don't worry. We observe you for forty-five minutes before letting you leave." "I hate needles. Did you have to poke so hard?"

Aminat waved the syringe she just used, teasing. "I like poking you."

He caught her wrist. His long elegant fingers stroked the back of her hand. "Not fair when I can't poke back."

Her hand warmed under his grip, and her willpower wavered. Ever since she tried and swore off sex, she'd been tempted by a host of hot guys. And Ismail Abubakar, by the information on his chart, was an smoking hot-six foot four inches, a hundred eighty two pounds, a triathlete, blood pressure one hundred five over seventy-five, resting heart rate in the fifties. Her gaze raked his bare chest dotted with sprinkles of tight curls. Would they feel soft, silky or coarse?

She tamped down her hormones as she pressd down on the injection site.

"Wayooo! Kai! That was very painful. What did you do that for?" His deep voice vibrated close to her ear.

Because I'm not gonna let you fool me. Aminat handed him a tissue. "I'll call you in forty-five minutes."

She couldn't fall off the wagon this quickly, not with the bet she had with her bestie, Chizzy. Whoever held out the longest against pre-marital sex and received a marriage proposal would win a spa weekend. Aminat and Chizzy have constantly been getting into the wrong sort of relationships, both of them have been childhood friends and devout Christians. Recently due to their bad luck in the love department they decided to ask Aminat's foster father for advice and what men really want. He introduced them to Islam and asked them to try the abstinence and dua exercise, where they observed the 5 daily prayers as per Islam and also avoid pre-marital sex in any relationship they embark on. At twenty-seven, Aminat was tired of being burned, and the man in front of her was volcanic hot. She suppressed a sigh as Ismail pulled on a tight Naija football jersey.

"What?" His gaze moved to her chest before resting on her eyes. "Hasn't the pleasure of pain and torture been enough? My arm is tingling and buzzing. I might pass out any minute, a drop my blood pressure and die, and you don't even care?"

She disposed of the used needles in the disposal container and closed his chart. "I'm on break now."

"Wonderful. Let's grab lunch together then." He pulled aside the privacy curtain and swept his hand in an after-you gesture.

Her pride would have been hurt had he not hit on her, she knew she was an attractive woman and she made sure to take care of herself and strived to keep herself healthy, but she'd show him she was not to be trifled with. She took her purse from under the table and opened the door to the waiting room.

"Mr. Abubakar." Aminat put on her most professional tone. "The waiver you signed says Solace care is not responsible for you if you don't follow the policies. Someone has to watch you in case you have a reaction to the shots."

He opened the door for her. "I'll be okay since I'm with you. Come on, let's go get lunch."

The swell of his full lower lip spread, triggering fantasies of more than a mere bite.

She flicked her shoulder-length hair at him. "Follow me if you want, but I'm not giving you mouth-to-mouth."

He was definitely handsome, with a smooth baritone voice guaranteed to melt any woman into a puddle. He caught her eye and winked. Her face heating, she quickened her pace through the clinic doors. He stumbled after her and collapsed, grabbing his throat and coughing.

"Mr. Abubakar. Oh, Jesus!" Aminat poured out the contents of her purse. "My EpiPen injection, where is it?"

She fumbled in her purse while bystanders formed a circle, peppering the air with excited exclamations. Ismail's body jerked with spasms. She had to do something, so she took a deep breath and plastered her mouth over his. His chest tightened and thrashed under her. He was having a seizure, going into shock, choking from lack of oxygen.

Beads of sweat prickled her forehead, and she blew again. A hand caressed the back of her neck, and the lips underneath hers puckered. A light breath fanned from his nostrils and... What the? A velvety tongue swept her mouth with tantalizing grace, and the air was sucked from her lungs. Her head swirled, and her lips responded hungrily, unable to pull away from his minty, refreshing taste.

Cheers and applause rang from the crowd.

"She saved his life."

"Woo hoo! Hot! I got it on video."

"Mommy, that man's faking," a child's voice piped in.

Aminat covered her mouth and gaped at the audience while Ismail rolled on the ground holding his stomach. A gale of laughter erupted from his chest. Idiot! Fool! Even worse, she had kissed him back and she liked it.

A security guard helped her up. "Everything okay? Man having a seizure or what?"

"No, he's fine." But I'm not. Head down, Aminat gathered her belongings and wove through the dispersing crowd.

Did everyone think she enjoyed it?

She was a professional, but at the same time, how could she not?

He was dreamy, and the kiss was hotter than she'd thought possible. Still, he was a patient, and she had better stick to the "life-saving" story, no matter how fake it was or sounded to her.

The next morning, Aminat ducked into the clinic and opened the curtains to the waiting room. Mr. pretender better not be hanging around and embarrassing her. She might have been easy pickings a couple of months ago, but after taking stock of her life and the nowhere road she was going on, as well as all the stuff she was learning about Islam, no more.

She'd be respectable and desirable for marriage. No more selling herself short.

She sensed trouble as soon as she walked by the receptionist's desk. A colorful mixed bouquet sat on the counter.

"Who left these here?" Aminat asked the patients. "We're not supposed to have flowers in the allergy clinic."

No one replied. The note card was addressed to "Nurse." Real bright, not! They were probably for Chizzy. Petite and beautiful, she had a string of suitors, although none of them were the marrying type. Her last boyfriend ended up in prison for kidnapping, human trafficking and possession and use of hard drugs.

Aminat was busy bringing up her charts when a commotion caught her attention.

"Nurse, nurse. We need some help here," a patient said.

She rushed into the waiting room and found a young woman coughing and hunching over with her hands on her knees.

"Can you walk?" She helped the patient stagger into the clinic and announced, "Patient having an asthma attack."

Her boss, Dr. Charles, rushed over. "Put her on a nebulizer with a dose of albuterol. And if that doesn't resolve, a shot of epinephrine."

"You're going to be okay." Aminat prepared the medicine and strapped the nebulizer mouthpiece over the woman's head. "Take a deep breath and hold it as long as you can, then breathe normally."

The patient nodded weakly, her eyes wide open, and her breathing stabilized after a few puffs.

"We'll have you rest for thirty minutes," Aminat said. "Someone will check on you, but if you need anything, please pull this string."

Aminat asked Priye, the senior nurse, to monitor the woman and went back to her workstation to prepare for her next patient.

Dr. Charles's hand rested on her table. "Get rid of the flowers."

"Yes, sir." She grabbed the bouquet from the receptionist's desk and bumped into Chizzy at the door.

"You're late," Aminat said. "Dr. Charles is pissed, and you have to remove your flowers. I have a patient due in a few minutes."

"I had to drop off my niece at school , and the traffic was terrible."

"Mhhhmmm, save it for oga." Aminat shoved the bouquet into Chizzy's hands.

"Hey, I covered you yesterday after your long break. The security guard said you saved a patient's life. What happened?"

"I'll tell you later." Aminat cut her off, knowing Chizzy was suspicious and she was also tenacious. She pointedly stared at her computer monitor and clicked the mouse to open her patient schedule. Ismail Abubakar's booming laughter echoed from the day before. He hadn disrespected her; he thought she was an easy lay, a cheap girl that good looks and a toned an fi body could fool.

Priye tapped her shoulder. "Your first patient's here, and those flowers were for you.

"Who are they from?" A feeling of dread shadowed Aminat's stuttering heart. What if it was her evil ex, Rotkang Shindol? That man never understood the word 'no.'"

"Ask Chizzy," Priye said. "But you better tell whoever it is to stop."

"Sure, thanks." Aminat appreciated Priye's mentorship. Not only did she mentor her and helped her navigate the hierarchy in the clinic, but she was also the one who convinced Aminat and Chizzy to look into Islam as well as consider abstinence, she was also the younger sister to her foster father. Surprisingly they were not born Muslims neither were they from the predominantly Muslim part of Nigeria but from the south-south where Islam and Muslims were barely tolerated.

Of course, she hadn't gotten a proposal or a ring. Not yet. She'd gone out with several men who lost interest when she wouldn't have sex or factor in sex. Not that they had bodies worth compromising for. Not like an athlete's with firm, taut muscles. She shook off the image of Ismail' inviting chest and picked up her next patient's paperwork.

"Hello, Mrs. Julcit," Aminat said, leading the way to the examination room.

"Why, hello there," Mrs. Julcit wheezed. "You're looking busy already. You need to slow down."

"I wish I could," Aminat said. She turned the corner and crashed into an open file drawer. Charts scattered all over the floor, and Aminat fell over a secretary's chair. It rolled her across the aisle and flipped her against the wall.

"Are you okay?" Mrs. Julcit said while Aminat picked herself up. She was so frustrated, she put her forehead on the wall for a minute before she bent down and retrieved the papers.

"I can't catch a break." Her voice wobbled, and she was seriously afraid she would burst into tears.

"You look upset," Mrs. Julcit said as she sat in the patient's chair. The motherly-looking woman was always free with her advice. "Man trouble?"

Aminat took a deep breath and attached a blood pressure cuff to Mrs. Julcit's arm. She pressed the button to start the reading. "Just the usual idiots hitting on me."

Mrs. Julcit's eyebrows bent in a quizzical angle. "Hold out for the one who's different. Remember what we talked about last time?"

"Yes, don't give in." Aminat detached the cuff. "Normal, a hundred twenty-five over seventy-six; you're doing great."

She hated being so short with the kind woman, but crying on her shoulder was worse.

Mrs. Julcit rubbed her arm. "There'll be someone who thinks you're special. Mark my words."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Aminat entered the data for the breathing test and encouraged Mrs. Julcit while she took a deep breath and blew into the tube attached to the breathelizer machine.

If only Mrs. Julcit could see visions that could tell her if she was special enough to warrant a man who'd care enough to put a ring on her finger and lover her sincerely.

Sighing, she left Mrs. Julcit in the doctor's office and called another patient for a skin test. She was extremely busy for the rest of the morning and used her break to catch up on patient e-mails. When lunchtime came around, she was the last one left.

Good thing Chizzy had gone without her, because with her bad mood, she wouldn't have been good company.

Aminat slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the waiting room. Annoyance hit her when she spied the scattered plant and flower fragments on the receptionist's counter. Couldn't Chizzy have at least wiped it down?

She swept the allergenic plant matter from the counter into the wastebasket and pushed the button to lower the rolling shutters. A man's hand slipped under the corrugated metal right before it hit the countertop. Aminat tripped over the receptionist chair and missed the switch, but the shutters reversed automatically.

"We're closed," Aminat yelped, catching her breath. "Are you okay?"

Ismail Abubakar flashed a sideways grin and rubbed his upper arm. "My arm's swollen, and I wonder if you could take a look at it."

Yeah, right. More like something else is swollen she thought to herself. She pushed the button to lower the shutters. "Sorry, I'm on lunch break. Don't try that again."

She locked the clinic and strode past him, keeping her eyes averted. He was the last straw to this awful morning.

Unfortunately, his footsteps kept pace behind her. The automatic doors opened, and bright sunlight assaulted her. She fumbled in her purse for her sunglasses, and her EpiPen fell onto the ground.

Ismail picked it up. "Ever poke yourself with one of these?"

"Haven't had the pleasure." She put on her sunglasses.

His upper lip twitched. "Want me to try?"

She snatched the EpiPen and marched toward her car. Maybe if she ignored him, treated him like a pesky mosquito, he would get the hint and leave. That fake-choking scene wasn't funny, and neither were his pickup lines.

He followed her to the side of her car.

She crossed her arms. This guy had the social skills of a rat and the body of a fashion model. Her eyes involuntarily settled on his too-tight jeans. And why did he have to wear those stretchy football jerseys?

"I'd rather drive around with you. I'd feel safer with my own nurse." He put his hand out. "Miss Shehu, I presume."

He tried too hard. And his pick-up lines were awful.

"You presume too much, Mr. Abubakar. I have thirty-five minutes left for lunch, so if you'll kindly return to the waiting room, or better yet, check yourself into the emergency room, so I can go and eat in peace."

"Are you sure you don't want to eat me instead?"

Since she didn't respond, he laughed at his own joke. "Hah, hah, hah."

Aminat rolled her eyes and unlocked the car. "Where'd you learn those rubbish toasting lines? AY Live? No, don't bother answering."

She opened her car door and slid into the driver's seat. He bent toward her face. Aminat held still, not backing away. Was he going to kiss her again? Or ask for mouth-to-mouth?

This time, she'd bite him first and ask questions later.

"Call me Ismail, and I'm sorry." He stepped back, leaving Aminat's lips high and dry.

Ismail parked his Toyota Tundra truck at the beginning of the trail that led to Shere hill and pulled his mountain bike from the back of the truck. Nothing developed his strength better and a sense of freedom than mountain biking. He flexed and rolled the wrist he broke last year. It had cost him a spot on the Olympic Triathlon team representing Nigeria.

Chucks Ndu, his training partner, strapped on his helmet and tapped his bike handles. "What's up with you, what has got you all and bothered, Is it the hot nurse?"

"She likes me." Ismail said tightened his helmet.

He wasn't about to admit that he messed up with the mouth-to-mouth prank. After all, he was making progress, and she did kiss him back, a little, at all; at all, na im bad pass.

"Have you tapped it yet? You don knack am? " Chucks asked while looking at Ismail with raised eyebrows. Ismail took a swig from his water bottle.

"No. She's not that type, moreover it might not work out."

"Roll with me, and I'll show you the Chucks smoothie. Women don't stand a chance." Chucks climbed on his bicycle and barreled down a dirt path into the nature reserve.

Aminat was so pretty and smart, and challenging. He'd stop by the clinic later on and try to change her mind with more flowers. She'd come around once she realized he was one of the good guys who cared about her feelings.

The sun peeked from the tops of the rock formations, casting shadows among the rocks and shrubs scattered around. Chucks was several yards ahead of him, whooping and shouting like a crazy man, barely avoiding going into a tailspin on a hairpin turn.

The Bluetooth earpiece paired with Ismail's Samsung phone rang. He answered it, not being able to look at the screen while on his bike. "Yes, who am I speaking to?"

"Hello, big bro." It was Hauwa, his twenty-four-year-old sister. "Where are you?"

"What do you mean, where am I? I'm in Jos, where else would I be."

"Mama's saying you think you're too good to call home."

"I've been busy." He put a leg down to dodge a rock out cropping. Chucks disappeared around a switchback. Ismail pumped hard up a steep incline and rounded a bend near a clearing. The unbroken view of the majestic rock formations and clear blue sky never failed to take his breath away and make him stand in awe, not to mention the hard exercise.

"You didn't pick me up at the airport, so I had to take a keke."

"Keke? What are you talking about?" Don't tell me you are here.

"I'm at your flat with the gateman. He won't let me in unless he speaks to you."

His breath whistled from between his teeth. It was typical of his family to spring surprises on him. "How long are you staying?"

"Until I find a job." When will that be Hauwa? "Haba yahaya, let me land first."

Chucks gestured at the sky, and Ismail braked to join him. "Who's on the phone?" Chucks asked.

"My sister's at my apartment."

Chucks grimaced. "Too bad. She going to interfere with your love life and cramp your style."

Ismail waved him off and spoke to his sister. "Put the gateman on."

The gateman greeted him, and Ismail gave his permission. The phone was handed back to Hauwa, and he heard her thank the gateman and the sound of the gate opening.

"Listen, I have rules," Ismail said.

"Rules smules. This place's a mess. How'll you ever get a girlfriend into this pigsty?"

Ismail removed his helmet and wiped his forehead. "Rule number one. No alcohol. I don't care if you're over twenty-one. No drinking, no smoking, no drugs, no shisha. And rule number two, no overnight friends, men or women."

"You didn't even make your bed. Is that a woman's thong?"

"Stay out of my room! That's the other thing; you get the guest room." Ismail rubbed the back of his sore neck.

"Wow, you're a real gentleman. I'm calling Ma to let her know I arrived safely, no thanks to you."

"You could have at least called ahead."

"Ma doesn't call anyone you know that. You want to talk to her, you call. She's still pissed at you for dropping out of law school."

"Thanks for the news flash. Anything else?"

"You better call her and tell her you're coming home." His sister's voice rattled his eardrums. "What the heck are you doing? Acting like a fool. Riding bikes and swimming all day long. It's not like you're going to make the Olympics."

And that was exactly why he was in Northern Nigeria and they were in the West. His family thought they knew what was best for him: law school, a high-paying job, then marriage to a respectable woman, and grandchildren for his parents.

His sister, Hauwa, was a two-faced person. She hid as much from their parents as he did, maybe more, but she always curried favor by ratting on him.

"I have a good shot if I keep training," he said, rubbing his sore neck.

"Training for the geriatric division in 2040." She snorted and hung up.

Ismail made a face at the sky. Even Jos wasn't far enough from their meddling and negative attitude.

After working out, Ismail swung by the clinic with a bouquet of lilies. The last two times he came for shots, he got Chizzy, the petite Igbo nurse with the heart-shaped face. He set the flowers on the counter and rubbed his itchy nose, suppressing a sneeze.

A middle-aged nurse waved her finger at him. "Mai Haka, Can't you read the signs? No fragrances in the waiting room."

"These are for Miss Shehu. Is she working today?"

"I can't talk about our employees' schedules." The nurse guided Ismail across the hallway. "You may leave these with Nanlop."

The sign on the wall said Nanlop, and a receptionist spoke Hausa into the phone. She hung up and turned toward Ismail. "Ah, for me again?"

Ismail looked from the older nurse to the receptionist. "Have you seen Miss Shehu?"

The receptionist smiled brightly. "I'm Nanlop. These flowers are lovely. I'll hold them for her."

"Can you be sure she gets them? There's a personal note." Ismail set the vase down. A flower stem fell behind the counter.

"I'll get it." Nanlop scooted her rolling chair away from her desk.

Ismail peered over the edge to point at the dropped flower. Three displays of dried flowers lay underneath the table with the cards unopened. No wonder she never called or texted him.

Nanlop picked up the stem and tucked it in place, humming a tune and ignoring him. Ismail' face heated. He'd been wasting his time. He shouldn't have played that stupid choking trick on the nice nurse.

He strode out of the waiting room. Was he not good enough for her? He'd let beauty sway him again-big brown eyes, slender eyebrows, pouty lips, and a creamy ebony complexion. Maybe his mother was right. He needed to find a respectable woman at a local masjid. She'd already looked up half a dozen of the masjids in his Jos North for him and had been urging him to report the single male-female ratio to her.

"Mr. Abubakar, your appointment?" a nurse called after him

He walked faster toward the exit and plowed into a woman coming around the corner. The tray she was carrying dropped onto the carpet, scattering small vials across the hallway.

"I'm so sorry." Ismail bent to pick them up and bumped her head with his jaw.

"Ow!" It was Aminat Shehu. "You made me drop all the allergy shots."

"Sorry. I'll help you." He handed them to her, and she fitted them in the marked slots.

"You're here for your shots?" she asked.

"I was, but something came up." He avoided her gaze. He'd been a pest, sending her flowers. If his sister ever found out about this fiasco, she'd mock him, and he wouldn't hear the end of it.

The pretty Aminat finished tucking all the vials in place. "Will you be by later? You can't miss a week, or you'll have to start over."

"Let me get it." He picked up the tray. "Are you okay?"

A smile swept her face. "I was fine until a certain klutz barreled into me."

"Sorry." He followed her through the waiting room.

"No apologies needed. Why don't you take a seat, and I'll call you after I put these in the refrigerator?" She took the tray from him and went through the staff door, glancing back right before the door closed.

His heart thumping, Ismail sat at the far side of the clinic and wiped his palms on his jeans. A twenty-eight-year-old man acting like a starstruck adolescent was utterly ridiculous. But Aminat's smile was warm, and she appeared friendly.

She called his name, and he stepped into the clinic. This time, he wore a short-sleeved button down shirt so he wouldn't have to pull off his shirt to access his upper arms.

Aminat waved him to her station. He wanted to say something witty or funny, but the words wouldn't come. She hadn't acknowledged the flowers, and he didn't want to say anything he'd regret.

She handed him the peak-flow meter to measure his airflow, and he blew the indicator to the top-twelve hundred.

"You know, we have some patients who can barely blow three hundred." She stuck a syringe into the top of a vial and tapped it.

He presented his right arm. "I don't know why I have to blow this thing."

"You sound like you're having a bad day." Her eyebrows creased as if she were concerned.

"I bumped into you, and-"

"Oh! And I'm definitely the last nurse you wanted to poke you today."

"No, you're fine." He held out his arm, and she rubbed it with alcohol before inflicting a stinging burn.

She dropped the needle into the used container. "Don't tell me you're feeling bad about knocking down my vials."

"It's not that. I ... uh, brought you flowers, but ... I guess you don't want them."

She dabbed his arm. "I'm not sure what you're trying to do."

"I'm sorry about the stunt I pulled to get your attention. I don't know what got into me."

She injected him again. "You embarrassed me. I'm not some kind of joke. I'm a professional, a nurse."

"I respect you." He pressed a tissue to clot the blood. The adrenaline in his veins stung along with the shot.

"You do?" Her eyes flashed, so lovely and lethal. "I worked hard to get my degree and earn a spot on this team. My boss was upset about the flowers."

"You didn't even read the notes."

"Other arm?"

He pushed up his shirt sleeve. Chizzy walked by and beckoned for his attention. "She likes chocolates." Chizzy whispered to him in a stage whisper.

Aminat filled another syringe. "Do you have any Cats or dogs? It's a pity, you can't have any pets."

"No time with my training schedule and work."

"Work? What do you do?" She injected him, this time more gently.

"I'm a special education coach. I train kids for the Para Olympics and teach swimming. And I also compete"

She set the syringe down. "That's really something. Do you enjoy working with them? And do you live with a disability? If you also compete"

"Yeah." He couldn't help smiling. "The small victories add up, and they're always so enthusiastic. When you help them achieve a goal, it's like you're on top of Mt. Everest. And no I don't live with a disability, I compete in the normal Olympics, I bike."

"I'd like to hear more about what you do." Her gaze lingered on him while she drew the last shot. "My break's coming up."

Wow. What happened? Was she really asking him to spend time with her? His day just got better, and when she gave him the last shot, it felt like the needle barely pricked him. His confidence rose with his pulse, and he took a deep breath. "I'll be in the waiting room, Miss Shehu."

"Aminat." Her cheeks dimpled. "Bring me the notes with the flowers and meet me at the exit."

Ismail rushed across the hall to Nanlop's desk, surprising Nanlop who was sniffing the lilies.

"I found Aminat," he announced. "And she wants the cards."

Nanlop batted her eyelashes. "Trust me, I'm much more fun, and I cook better."

Ismail swallowed his words. Judging from her hips, she probably did make good massa and kunun gaida. He picked the card off the lilies. "Can I get the notes from the other bouquets?"

She hefted herself from the chair and bent below the table, tearing the envelopes off the plastic holders. "Here you go. And here's my card. Good luck with Aminat. You won't get far."

"Why?"

Nanlop looked left and then right. The only people in the vicinity were patients playing with their electronic gadgets. She bent closer and cupped her hand to one side of her mouth. "Rumor has it she's sworn off sex. She and Chizzy, the Igbo nurse, have a bet. First one to fall off the wagon buys the other one a three-day weekend at a spa."

Ismail peered across the hall at the allergy clinic. "How long do they plan on keeping it going?"

"Until one of them scores a marriage proposal, with an engagement ring and a set date. Remember who tipped you off."

"There you are." Aminat glided through the opening to the Nanlop's waiting area and stopped with one hand propped on her hip.

"Bye, you two have fun." Nanlop's voice sing-songed after them.

Ismail mumbled a goodbye and followed Aminat to the hallway. Not having sex could make anyone prickly, although today, she was looking refreshed and delighted. What if it meant?

Ismail brushed the thought aside as Aminat's mouth twisted into a half-smile, half-grimace.

"Were you flirting with her?" she asked.

"Does it bother you?" He handed her the notes. "You were giving me the cold shoulder."

She sashayed in front of him. "You want cold? I'll treat you to an iced cappuccino."

So, she thought she had competition. While she ordered the drinks, he texted an order of dark chocolate truffles to be delivered to the allergy clinic. After adding a few balloons to brighten the treat, his day was definitely looking up.

Friday morning, Aminat stepped the shower and popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth. The mixture of dark chocolate, marzipan, and pistachio hummed through her taste buds. She pinched her tummy, still less than an inch of fat, and tucked Ismail' note into the box. They'd had a nice conversation, and he'd asked her to go hiking. With all the goodies he supplied, she needed the exercise.

Things were looking up, now that he'd apologized. Besides, a man who coached special children and cared about their feelings was too tempting to turn down.

After pulling on a short puff sleeved tie-dyed summer gown that stopped just below her knees, she buckled a wide simple black belt and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. She dabbed sunscreen on her face and applied a little bit of ponds face powder. Oh, and one more piece of chocolate.

She pinned her hair back just as the doorbell rang. He was early, the devil. Aminat rubbed on a healthy coat of lip gloss, grabbed her shoulder bag, and opened the door.

Ismail' gaze traveled immediately to her feet and her bright pink painted toenails. "Seriously, flip-flops for hiking?"

"Are you always so rude in the morning?" she teased. "What happened to saying 'hi, how are you?'"

"Oh, hi, how are you?"

"I'm fine." She whisked past him, making sure to shake her hips. "I'm driving."

His eyes widened as he looked her up and down, with his eyes drawn to the way her ample hips swayed while she walked. "Great, I can enjoy the scenery."

"Keep your eyes on the wildlife, mister." She hid a smile behind a fake yawn.

"Yes, ma'am. I sure will."

"Hands to yourself."

"Ba damu a!" He mock saluted her.

She looped her hand around his elbow and led the way to the parking area. "So, how are you this morning?"

"Not bad. I did a fifty-mile training ride and swam thirty laps."

Whew! All she did was get out of bed and snack. They walked to his car, and he retrieved his backpack.

"How about you?" He licked his lips. "Did you eat too much chocolate?"

Urgh! Aminat let go of his arm and unlocked her car. "If you're fishing for gratitude, yes, I enjoyed a few pieces. Thank you."

Ismail threw his pack in the back. Before getting in, he slid the seat all the way back. "Are all your friends vertically challenged?"

"Unlike you, we're genetically challenged, and we don't have nor appreciate your sense of humor." She started the car and tried not to let him see her smile.

After all, if she wanted him to appreciate her, he couldn't think she was easy to push around. Unfortunately, his body heat radiated the short distance between their shoulders, and she couldn't help wanting to cuddle up to him.

"Is there an address or is it a Suprise?"

"No, it's an open space preserve, but I know the way."

"What's it called again?"

"Naraguta Reserve."

"It's not too wild, is it?" She pulled out of her street and headed to the freeway.

"Nope, perfect stroll in the woods, a little bit of climbing and a waterfall. And it won't be crowded since it's a weekday."

A perfect stroll for him might be a torture march for her. "Did you bring water?"

He pointed at his backpack. "Always prepared. And a picnic lunch too."

Her heart warmed. Wow. So thoughtful. Ever since the multiple apologetic notes, he'd been the perfect gentleman, well, minus the silly flirts he threw every time he opened his mouth. Could he be the real deal?

Aminat cautioned herself from getting too far ahead of herself. She was always pinning her hopes on the wrong man. This time, she would sit back and test him.

She switched on the radio. "Music? Any preference?"

"You pick."

Wow. Really? Most men were bossy about music.

She turned it to a rhythm and blues station and took the slow lane onto the freeway. After crossing the secretariat junction bridge, the road traffic slowed down, they passed the busy part of Bauchi road and wound their way past the tree and rock lined lined ridges behind Naraguta village. They stopped at a lonely parking area surrounded by tall trees interspersed with rock formations.

Aminat flipped down the vanity mirror and checked her lip gloss. "This place is deserted."

So far so good. They'd both enjoyed singing along to the oldies music that blared from the car stereo, and he hadn't put his foot in his mouth after the vertically challanged comment.

"I hope you're not wearing perfume." He appeared to sniff her before getting out of the car.

"Excuse me?"

"Bees." Ismail pulled on wraparound sunglasses, hiding his dark, soul-stirring eyes.

"Oh ... I didn't know."

"Don't worry, I have insect repellant. But it smells nasty."

"Great choice. I have to smell like you? Think I'll take my chances." She put on her sunglasses. If she couldn't see his mischievous eyes, he wouldn't read her either.

Ismail took out his backpack, and she locked the car. Warning signs were prominent at the trailhead. Monkeys and baboons and what to do when confronted. Tick Danger. Poison ivy. Aminat turned toward Ismail. "Bees are the least of my worries. Are there really monkeys and baboons?"

"Nothing to it. Stay behind me. See the sign? Keep children behind you."

"I'm not a child." Aminat pinched his upper arm.

"Ow! Could have fooled me." He ducked. "What I meant was, you have to look big and mean. Here, I'll show you." He waved his backpack in the air and jumped up and down, hollering, "Get the out of here."

A giggle escaped her throat. "Hmmm ... makes sense. monkeys get hissy and mischievous until you stare them down."

"I wouldn't know. Allergies."

They stepped onto the trail. The air gave off a mixture of shrubery and wet rock scents.

"Will the tree pollen bother you?" she asked.

He puffed out his chest and breathed deeply. "Took my allergy pills and got my shot this week. Reason I moved here. Less pollen and great cool weather. So many places to mountain bike, run, and swim."

Aminat could see how excited Ismail was about nature and how much he appreciated being with her without trying to make a move on her. He hadn't even put his arm around her shoulder, and it was refreshing not to have to fend him off-well, maybe she would have liked a little bit of fending off.

They walked along until the trail split into two. A wide path swung toward the left, but Aminat was drawn to the wooden rail fence with a narrow opening marked with a No Bicycle and No Horses sign. "Which way?"

"Enter ye in at the narrow gate." Ismail brandished a camera. "Can I take your picture?"

"Sure." She smiled. At least he acknowledged wanting to be with her. She posed within the narrow space. "The bicycles and horses have to go on the wide road."

"Which leadeth to destruction." He laughed and snapped a picture.

Okay ... whatever that meant. Was he trying too hard to act like a Boy Scout? Quoting Bible verses?

Anyway, he was too cute to dismiss-make that too hot to give a cold shoulder to. She took a few pictures of him before stepping onto the trail. They walked under a canopy of trees. Moss hung in strings off spiny branches, and ferns waved from the spaces between tree roots. Partially rotted tree trunks lay on the ground, and vines crawled along the sides of the trail.

"Sure, that isn't poison ivy?" Aminat tiptoed with her flip-flops through a narrow passage between some shrubbery and towering rock formations.

Ismail trailed her. "Those are agbaluba. See the spoor?"

"Spoor?"

He pointed to globules of dark purplish-black droppings. Aminat stepped back, right into his arms. "Ugh. I didn't step on that, did I?"

He let her go immediately. "Ready for a seven-mile loop or you want to come back on the same trail?"

"I'll take the entire loop." Aminat shrugged. Most men would have hugged her a moment longer or even copped a feel. She'd showered and shampooed, and he had looked at her appreciatively, unless it was all a big act.

"That's because we're going downhill." Ismail's Cheerful voice cut into the foreground. "See those switchbacks down there? I sprint up and walk back down. Interval training."

"I'm interested, but not for sprinting." She wiggled a flip-flop at him, and he shook his head but wisely refrained from making an insulting remark. He was really trying to be a good guy.

After they negotiated the switchbacks, the trail widened and leveled off. She and Ismail hiked under majestic trees with rugged trunks and massive rock formations that towered toward the sky. Ismail helped Aminat across a long log, and surprisingly, he didn't let go of her hand, and neither did she want him to.

A warm feeling crested in her heart. Chizzy said she only craved the chemical high of being in love, but not the man behind it. But Aminat wanted more. She wanted a man she would crave, not just today, but every day-one she would never get tired of.

She gripped Ismail' hand tighter, but he didn't respond by pulling her closer. Instead, he seemed shy and stopped chattering.

Luckily, the wilderness around them provided plenty of places to focus their attention. The sound of woodpeckers periodically peppered the tall trees, and it was soon joined by that of trickling water. Ferns sprawled along the creek bank. Even though it was midday, the canopy of trees hid the sunlight, and the air was refreshingly cool.

They walked on, hand in hand, and Ismail was always careful to watch her footing or steer her around spoor and rocks that might have tripped her.

He stopped near a flat stone and swung his backpack off his shoulder. "Ready for lunch?"

"Sure, I am very hungry." Aminat dipped her feet into the soothing water of the stream. "It's surprising how cool and damp it is here."

"Even in May. That's what I like about Plateau state especially Jos. Chicken or beef?" Ismail pointed to the spread-two wrapped burgers and two cartons of chocolate milk on ice packs.

Wow. Was he a superstar or what? Aminat wanted to swoon, but she had to dial back her attraction and pretend she didn't care. Time for teasing.

"How do you know I'm not a vegetarian?" She twisted her lips and studied the sandwich and its contents.

"Oh, I'm sor-"

"Don't you dare apologize." Aminat put her hands on his waist and leaned toward him. If she were taller, she'd lay her lips on his to stop further discussion. "I was just teasing. I'll eat anything."

A slow smile stretched across his face. "Okay, I'll hold you to it, man-eater."

Aminat refrained from rolling her eyes as she unwrapped a burger. "I haven't seen many hikers. We have this place all to ourselves."

"We do."

She took a bite of the sandwich and leaned closer. Couldn't he at least put his arm around her? His eyes were dark and luscious like rich coffee.

The pupils pinpointed. He stared over her shoulder and jumped to his feet. "A leopard!"

Aminat gasped and coughed up a piece of bread. She grabbed on to Ismail. "Where? Where?"

Nothing but green branches and fluttering leaves. Was the cat stalking behind the ferns? Her heartbeat flailed, and she hid behind him.

He swung his arms, jumped up and down, hooting and chuckling? What was wrong with him? Aminat's head snapped back and forth. There was no movement in the vicinity and no giant cat ready to pounce.

Ismail slapped his thighs and doubled over with laughter. "Gotcha!"

The hike back was almost all uphill. As far as Aminat was concerned, it was a death march. Was she pissed off at Ismail for scaring her? Not as much as she made him think.

Face it. The guy was socially awkward, and he tried to pass off everything as a joke. Maybe he wasn't attracted to her and thought it better if he made sure she was friend-zoned hence the unromantic, baby brother antics.

Because of the steep climb, Aminat's brain lacked oxygen to truly get angry, so she dutifully trudged along, wishing she hadn't worn flip-flops. Thankfully, the trees blocked the sun most of the way, and Aminat's car was still the only one in the parking lot. She threw the empty water bottle in the recycle bin. "I didn't think I could make it."

Ismail wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. "We climbed fourteen hundred feet from the creek. You did great, even with flip-flops."

"Ugh ... I'm going to have blisters between my toes."

He removed his wraparounds. "About that mountain lion, I'm-"

"Don't!" Aminat unlocked her car. "I forgave you about five miles back, but you owe me for the torture march."

"How do you want me to pay?" He extracted a towel and a brightly checkered madras shirt from his backpack. "I have to change shirts. Try not to stare."

"Pffuh, I don't want to get sick." Aminat slid into the driver's seat. He wouldn't be able to see her ogling from this vantage point. He stood with the passenger door open, his ridged abdominals in full view. A trickle of sweat rolled down the center line but was quickly dabbed away. He turned his back and put on deodorant-Brute. Hmmm ... a traditional man. After rolling up his towel and tank top, he stuffed them in his bag and climbed into the passenger seat, his shirt still partially unbuttoned.

"I'll get the buttons." She reached for his shirt, and her breath quickened. What was wrong with her? She'd been throwing herself at him all day. This man-drought made her irritable and snappy. It'd been, what? Four months since Ezekiel walked out? Why hadn't Chizzy fallen off the wagon? Now, she was about to jump off the deep end.

She swallowed and licked her lips, prepared in case of an emergency kiss. Ismail' warm breath was sweet on her face.

"Thanks," he whispered, so close to her ear.

Her hand flattened on his chest. Sitting in the car, they were almost the same height. It was doable. She trailed her fingertips to his collarbone. His body stiffened, and he cleared his throat. "Uh ... We have to be somewhere in twenty minutes. I reserved a class for us."

"A class?" Why did her voice have to squeak like that?

"Yes, I think you'll like it."

"O-okay ..." She backed off and checked her teeth in the vanity mirror. All clear. Eye makeup was a little smeared, but nothing seriously wrong. "Go back the way we came?"

Ismail pointed out the window. "Yes, but make a right at Terminus round about and turn into Tafawa Balewa Road. I'll direct you as we go."

"Thanks." Aminat turned on her car.

Despite all the suggestive talk, Ismail seemed uncomfortable touching her. But then, why did he pursue her so persistently? She stepped on the throttle. At least the wine tasting class would cheer her up.

They drove past a poultry farm, it was huge, and she wondered how it was run. Traffic piled behind a slow-moving truck before clearing near a stretch of businesses. An arrow pointed to the winery on the left. Aminat parked in front of a small burnt brick building with a Wine Tasting sign. She got out and locked her car.

"You like red or white?" she asked Ismail.

"Ah, good, he's there." Ismail pointed to a tin building on the other side of the parking lot.

"What's over there?"

"You'll see." He took her hand, sending a warm thrill skittering through her heart. They walked to the front of a glass door that opened into an art studio. Glass apples, translucent hearts, and paperweights sat on the shelves, and colorful lamps hung from metal rods.

A man with weathered skin and grey hair greeted them. "Hi, I'm Dan. You are Ismail, right?"

"Yes, I am, and this is Aminat. We're here to take the glassmaking class."

Dan showed them sample hearts, fruits, and life-forms. "Before you leave, you'll be making one of these."

"Seriously?" Aminat said. "How do you get the detailing on the animals and humans?"

"Trade secret." Dan grinned as he took the money from Ismail. "What are we making today?"

"This is so cool!" Aminat held up a small gold elder tree with summer green leaves shaped as infinity symbol. "I want to make a tree like this one."

"That color is a favorite," Dan said. "How about you?"

"A red and purple heart," Ismail answered.

Strange choice for a man, but hey, he was definitely different. Hot, cute, and deep.

"You want to go first?" Ismail asked.

"No, you go ahead. It looks dangerous."

"Nothing to it," Dan said. "Put on these gloves."

Aminat took pictures of Ismail dipping the iron rod into the crucible and holding it in a furnace. He created different layers of color by rolling the molten glass in colored powder. When it was time to shape the heart, Dan gave him a knife and asked him to cut the cleavage.

"I'll let her cut it." Ismail waved Aminat over and smiled sweetly.

"Watch out or she'll cut your heart." Dan laughed.

After a brief instruction, she held the blade and cut upwards, separating the two lobes. Ismail used large tweezers to draw the tip, and it was finished. Dan placed the hot glass into the annealer to cool.

Now, it was Aminat's turn. She put on heatproof gloves and worked her glass blob under Dan's instruction. It was hard work to make layer after thin layer and rotate the rod to keep the glass from flopping downward. When it was time to shape the tree, Dan helped her push the heated glass into a tree mold and pull it out. He dipped smaller rods shaped as an infinity symbol into a crucible of summer green glass and attached it to her tree, curling it several times to make the leaves.

Aminat was thrilled at her work and hoped Ismail took enough pictures. She'd never made something out of hot, molten glass before. Unfortunately, Dan whisked her tree into the annealer before she had a chance to admire it.

"You can pick it up tomorrow or I can mail it," he said.

"I'll pick it up," Ismail said.

"That's it?" Aminat peeled off the protective glasses and gloves, feeling let down. Forgive her for being impatient, but she wanted to show Chizzy everything she did on her date with Ismail.

So, there wasn't any kissing and touching, but wasn't this what Priye meant about holding out for something more permanent?

But wait ooo, maybe the reason Ismail wasn't kissing and touching her was because he only wanted her as a friend. After all, he passed up the wine tasting class-a favorite plan of men to get their dates drunk and compliant, to instead stand in front of hot ovens.

She followed Ismail to the front of the studio where Dan had many beautiful pieces of glasswork hanging.

Ismail pointed up to a beautiful lamp with curly glass tentacles. "If you want one of those lamps, I'll buy you one."

"No, I couldn't." She stared at a blue, white and purple turtle shell wall lamp. It was probably a couple thousand Naira, perfect for a child's nursery.

Ahhhh! Babies? She was really getting ahead of herself. A hot, her pulse hammered behind her ears. Flustered, she turned for the parking lot to catch her breath. Her hormones were definitely out of control.

Ismail looked after Aminat. She had been laughing and giggling during the glass work, and now she stood in front of the winery with her arms crossed as if she were upset.

He walked to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Thanks, that was fun."

"You seem upset. Anything I did?"

"Oh, no. Some thoughts crossed my mind and made me sad, nothing about you." Her voice was strained, but she forced a tiny smile.

He took her hand. It was so small and delicate. "Stick with me, and I won't let sad thoughts near you."

"Promise?" She pulled him toward the tasting room. "Let's try some wine."

"Aren't you driving?" Ismail stopped at the entrance.

"A little wine isn't going to do any harm."

"The roads are narrow and has heavy traffic, especially Bauchi road."

Her frown pushed her eyebrows together, and she pulled out of his grasp. "Are you saying I can't drink when you are around?"

"At least let me drive." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'll stay out here."

She stepped through the door without answering. A cold wave swept his chest. He could never figure out women. Hot, cold. Flirty, indifferent. Giddy one moment, then moody and spitting like an angry cat.

Twenty minutes later, Aminat emerged from the tasting room carrying a bottle of wine. She popped a chocolate into her mouth and smiled as if pleased with herself.

"I would invite you back to my place," she said in a teasing voice. "But I think I'm going to have to drink this alone."

"I'm sorry I said anything." Ismail held the car door for her, but she walked to the passenger side.

"Go ahead. I knew you wanted to drive."

He hesitated. A no-win situation. Take the wheel and admit he thought her a drunk. Back off and risk an accident. His friends back home had always appreciated him for being the designated driver.

She beeped the horn. "What are you waiting for?"

He slid into the driver's seat. "Talk to me. What are you thinking?"

Her breath had a fruity bouquet, sweet. Perhaps she really had only a taste. She tickled his shoulder. "That you owe me a kiss."

"You're not mad? Because I was way over the line. It's not you. My mother imbibes a bit too much alcohol, and I'm used to fighting her for the keys. I'm usually not-"

Her lips, soft like cotton candy, pressed briefly over his mouth. His heart skipped a beat. He'd expected her to be greedy and sloppy, but she kept her mouth closed, inhaling through her nose. He caressed her cheek, her complexion ebony and shiny like melted dark chocolate, so perfect and smooth. And when she opened her eyes and gazed into his, he felt light, as if he'd been charmed, hypnotized, enchanted. He traced her cheekbone to the back of her jaw, letting his finger linger on the soft skin of her neck around her pulse point.

He opened his mouth to give her a real kiss, felt her gasp and tremble at his approach. Lightly gliding over and around her tongue, he explored the silky parting between her lips and teeth, teasing the tip of her tongue, encouraging her to fully draw him in.

She moaned, and her fingers slid underneath his shirt, kindling a flame lower down. Their lips still locked passionately, he struggled for breath. He couldn't allow this to continue, couldn't break her chastity vow. And he definitely couldn't fall in love, not yet. Not until he'd won Olympic gold.

Abruptly, he pulled away and latched onto the steering wheel as if it were an anchor.