FORBIDDEN GIFT

Chapter 3: Lessons of Desire

The semester was halfway gone, and the rivalry between Bunmi and me had become a silent war neither of us dared to name. To outsiders, we looked like friends—laughing together in class, borrowing notes, even sharing meals at the cafeteria. But beneath the surface, every smile was edged with competition, every word layered with hidden meaning.

And at the center of it all was Charles.

Charles, who smiled at me differently. Charles, who lingered just a little longer when our eyes met. Charles, who somehow gave Bunmi just enough attention to keep her from giving up.

The tension finally boiled over one Saturday during one of our study sessions.

I had invited both Charles and Bunmi to my hostel room. The tiny space smelled of body spray and fresh plantain chips. I wore a fitted gown—soft lilac, hugging me in the right places—and though my heart beat wildly, I told myself it was just a dress. Just comfort.

Charles sat opposite us, his notebook open, pen in hand, explaining formulas with his usual calm. But I wasn’t listening. My mind wandered to the way his lips shaped each word, how his hand brushed through his hair, how easily his presence filled the room.

Beside me, Bunmi shifted deliberately. Her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to draw attention, and her laughter rang too loud at Charles’s smallest jokes.

I clenched my pen tighter.

Focus, Gift. Don’t give her the satisfaction.

But then, as Charles scribbled on my notebook, I caught his eyes flicker downward. His gaze lingered on me—no, on the way my gown rode just above my knees. Heat crawled up my neck, but instead of pulling my legs together, I let them part ever so slightly. My pulse roared in my ears.

Charles’s eyes darted back to the paper, but the corner of his mouth curved in the faintest of smiles.

Bunmi noticed.

Her eyes, sharp as knives, followed his glance. And when I saw her smirk, I knew she understood exactly what I was doing.

Later that evening, Bunmi cornered me outside. The campus air was cool, the sky darkening with the promise of rain.

“You think you’re smart, don’t you?” she said, crossing her arms.

I frowned, pretending not to understand. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play innocent. Opening your legs for Charles like some shy temptress.” Her laugh was low, mocking. “You’re not the only one who knows how to play games.”

Her words stung, but I refused to flinch. “It’s not a game, Bunmi. If Charles likes me, he likes me. Nothing you do will change that.”

She leaned closer, her perfume overwhelming. “Oh, sweetheart… you’ll see. It’s not about who he likes. It’s about who gives him what he wants.”

With that, she walked away, her heels clicking against the pavement like victory drums.

True to her word, Bunmi made her move.

The next week, Charles invited us both to his apartment for a private session. When I arrived, she was already there, sprawled casually on his couch, her blouse buttons teasingly undone. She greeted me with a sugary smile, one that made my stomach twist.

“Gift, you’re late,” Charles said gently, though his eyes lit up when they met mine.

“I had to finish an assignment,” I murmured, settling beside Bunmi.

The session began, but the tension in the room was unbearable. Bunmi leaned forward deliberately, her chest nearly spilling from her top. Charles’s eyes flickered once, then quickly back to the textbook.

I sat straighter, determined not to lose. Sliding my notebook across the table, I let my thigh brush lightly against Charles’s knee. The contact was brief, accidental enough to deny but deliberate enough to be felt.

His pen froze for a heartbeat before moving again.

Bunmi noticed. Again.

After the session, she pulled me aside, her voice low and dangerous. “So this is the battle you want? Fine. But don’t forget—Charles isn’t blind. He knows exactly what you’re doing. And when he makes his choice…”

Her words trailed off, but her smirk said it all.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, torn between guilt and desire. I had never seen myself as bold, never thought I could compete with someone like Bunmi. Yet here I was, crossing lines I never imagined.

All for Charles.

But was it worth it?

The next weekend, I decided to find out.

I invited Charles over—alone. Bunmi didn’t need to know. My heart pounded as I rehearsed excuses in case he questioned it.

When he arrived, carrying his usual smile and books, I welcomed him inside. My hair was loose, my blouse slightly unbuttoned, and for the first time, I didn’t shy away from the way his eyes lingered.

“Sorry for calling you on short notice,” I said, handing him a drink. “I’ll be traveling home soon, so I wanted us to study before I leave.”

“No problem,” he said, settling down. His gaze lingered a moment too long on my neckline before he looked away, clearing his throat.

I swallowed my nerves. This is it, Gift. Stop being the shy girl. Be bold.

As he explained a formula, his voice steady and low, I leaned forward, deliberately letting my blouse slip just enough. His eyes flickered, and this time, he didn’t look away.

The air between us grew thick, charged with unspoken tension.

…

Charles leaned forward, his hand brushing against mine as he explained a line in the textbook. My breath caught in my throat. I shifted, my gown tugging across my chest, and his eyes flickered — just for a second — before he quickly looked away.

“Gift…” his voice dipped lower, “are you really focused on this lesson?”

I swallowed hard, caught between embarrassment and a strange thrill. I wanted to answer, but the tension in the room was too thick.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

A voice called from outside the door. “Gift, open up!”

My heart dropped. It was Bunmi.

Charles and I exchanged a look — his was unreadable, mine was pure panic. Bunmi was the last person I wanted barging in at that moment.

Would I let her in and ruin this fragile moment, or would I keep Charles to myself a little longer?

I quickly stood up and dressed properly before opening the door for Bunmi. I asked her why she came, and she responded with an obvious lie—saying she lost the key to her apartment. Bunmi stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Charles. He looked furious, his jaw clenched, and immediately Bunmi asked, “What’s going on?”

I raised my brow and asked her what she meant, pretending not to understand.

Charles cleared his throat and said it was getting late, that he needed to return to his lodge. My heart raced. I knew Bunmi would follow him if he left, and I couldn’t allow that. Thinking quickly, I smiled sweetly and suggested, “Why don’t you both stay the night? I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and I’ll really miss you.”

Bunmi smiled faintly, but her eyes lingered on me. I could tell she knew exactly why I didn’t want Charles walking her home.

Since the room wasn’t spacious, I suggested Bunmi share the bed with me while Charles slept on the sofa.

Around 4:30 a.m., Charles woke me gently, his voice low. He said he wanted to start going. I urged him to wait a little longer, whispering that it was still too early. But he shook his head, saying he felt uncomfortable staying. My chest warmed when he added that he wanted to leave quietly. I was happy—it was me he chose to wake. Hearing him say he wasn’t comfortable made me feel even more at ease.

Before leaving, he kissed me softly and wished me a safe journey back home. I looked into his eyes, smiled, and kissed him back with all the unspoken feelings I carried.

I told him, “If you want, I could even stay back tomorrow since it’s Sunday.” He smiled and agreed before leaving.

When I went back to bed, my heart was still racing.

By 8:00 a.m., I got up and looked at Bunmi, who was still fast asleep. “Oh damn,” I whispered to myself. “This girl really loves sleep.”

I cleaned the room, humming lightly. Pretending to Bunmi that I would be traveling to my parents that Saturday was a performance worthy of an award. Inside, I was glowing. Charles had kissed me goodbye. His lips lingered in my mind, and all I could hear in my head was, “Oh Gift, Charles likes you now.”