The second installment of the story of our uncertain lady. this contains youthful love, lust and lies. please beware

Please read the first part of the story here before you read this one

You must be above 16 years old to read this… SERIOUSLY

“Just dump him. His not worth your time if he can’t make up his mind.” My friend, Ndivuwho, says after I explain the story to her. She goes on about how men do not know what they want. Having made my decision, I decide to give him a call. However I hold onto the phone for a while. I stare at his number. He is a wonderful guy but he cannot string me on like this. I touch the green button.

“Hey Angel, I was just about to call you.” He says immediately after answering. My mind is suddenly submerged in doubt as soon as I hear his voice. Maybe I should give him another chance. He asks how I am doing, we talk a bit about the lunch we had and by the time I hang up, we have set up dinner at my place. Ndivuwho is furious.

“He is going to break your heart, how could you fall for his charm.” She barks. Being more confused than a toddler in a nude beach, I ask her to give me time to think. She leaves. Two days later he finally comes to my flat. However I still do not know how to tell him how I feel. I greet him with a hug. Seeing him leaves my face coated with a huge smile. Pretty soon we are in the kitchen cooking.

“I didn’t know you were such a good cook. This is delicious.” He says in between bites as we eat on my table. I just stealthy gaze at him, looking down when he looks up. It does not make sense why he would not like me; he has never talked about having a girlfriend and he treats me like he likes me. He mentions that I have not touched my plate and I tell him that I am not hungry. He thanks me for the meal when he is finished eating.

“We need to talk.” I stammer after we put the plates in the sink. He slowly turns towards me with a curious look. He motions for us to go into the living room. Cautiously sitting on one end of the blue small couch, he waits for me to sit on the other end of the couch. I face him.

“James, what is going on here?” I ask.

“What do you mean?” He replies, looking bewildered by my question like I told him he was adopted. After a brief moment of silence a smirk forms across his face. It seems he now understands my question.

“Well, we have being hanging out a lot and I have made it clear through my actions that I like you but you haven’t even asked me out yet? What are we exactly? What was this?” He chuckles as soon as I stop talking.

“I like hanging out with you,” he says, “But I don’t really like you in that way. Don’t get me wrong, you are beautiful and fun to be around. You just aren’t my type.” His words hit me like Miley Cyrus’ wrecking ball. I am speechless and dumbfounded; I am the one that always tells the guy the “not my type” speech. I stammer a few imperceptible words before keeping quiet again. His face is now flushed with sympathy.

“I hope you understand.” He adds. My disbelief quickly morphs into anger. So many questions flood my thoughts. Why would he not like me? Men ask me out daily and I rejected them for this fool. He says something about leaving but my perplexed thoughts drown out his voice. He stands up. As he walks towards the door, I realise that I may never see him again. I jump to my feet.

“Wait.” I shout as I walk towards him. I slam my lips against his as he turns to face me. Holding onto my arms, he pushes me back. “What are you doing?” He shouts. Without giving him an answer, I jump onto him and wrap my arms and legs around him. Our lips reunite once again. His arms wrap around my waist as he walks towards the sofa. As soon as we get there, he throws me onto it. I start taking off my white tank top.

“I am not sleeping with you.” He states firmly while trying not to stare at my bra. Turning around, he heads to the door again. Quickly getting up, I leap towards the door and lock it. His eyes open wide as I unbutton my pants and chuck the keys into my underwear. Now frozen in place, he tries to say something but it is inaudible.

“I know you like me James.” I say seductively as I walk towards him while taking off my bra. His breathing increases rapidly with every step I take. I lean in for a kiss when I reach him, he steps back. I tell him that if we make out, he can go; he agrees. We kiss. However within a minute of making out, he picks me up and throws me onto the couch again. He stares at me as his eyes burn with lust. Pretty soon, our clothes are scattered all over the floor.

To be continued…

what do you think he should have done to get out? Is she being reasonable? share your thoughts below

What do you think?