James was irritated. He had just finished a night shift at Lagos State University Teaching Hospital when Kayode called, pleading for him to come immediately. Reluctantly, James drove through the 7 a.m traffic from Ikeja to Lekki Phase 1, expecting an actual emergency.

There was an emergency, just not the kind he had imagined.

Kayode wasn’t dying from food poisoning or some mysterious illness. Instead, he had summoned him to attend to a woman, who might have been exposed to COVID-19 during a recent trip to London. A woman who wasn’t Kayode’s wife, sister, mother, or even girlfriend, now laid half-conscious on his bed, her temperature high enough to brew coffee.

James was furious.

Wearing gloves and a face mask, he did a brief examination before pulling Kayode into the living room, where Tade was already standing, holding a box of clothes.

“Are you thinking straight?” James snapped. His anger was raw and unfiltered.

“I really don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Tade added. “But I’m not waiting to find out.”

Tade, a building contractor, had moved in with Kayode temporarily since his current site project was in Lekki. Although he had an apartment in Magodo, staying with Kayode for proximity made sense. What didn’t make sense was the sick woman now in Kayode’s room.

Kayode, James, and Tade had been friends since secondary school. They went to different universities and chose different professions, but remained close. Still, this was unexpected. Neither James nor Tade knew anything about Kayode’s quiet feelings for Funmi, so his desperation and secrecy came as a shock.

“You both need to calm down,” Kayode muttered, walking over to the dispenser for a drink.

They waited, arms folded, as he filled a glass, drank it slowly, then filled another before finally meeting their eyes.

“She’s an old friend,” he said. “We flew into Lagos together yesterday. She’s been very ill. I had to help, it would’ve been wrong to ignore her.”

James wasn’t impressed. “Since when did you become the Good Samaritan? How come we’ve never heard of her if she’s such a close friend?”

Tade added, “If you really just wanted to help, you could’ve called an ambulance instead of bringing her here.”

“You don’t have any right to question my decisions,” Kayode snapped.

“This became our business the moment you dragged us into it!” James barked. “I thought something was wrong with you when you called.”

Kayode sighed. He couldn’t explain his actions either. Funmi had begged him to take her home, and he hadn’t been able to say no. He didn’t know where she lived, and if he was honest, he wanted to be the one to help her recover. To see her through it.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, glancing at Tade.

Tade threw him a mock salute. “You’re on your own, I am leaving,” he said, picking up his box. “Sanwo-Olu has officially announced the lockdown and it starts tomorrow, so I need to get to the site today.”

“Bro, sit,” James said, dropping onto a sofa as they watched Tade leave. “Let’s talk about what this means medically.”

“I know what you’re about to say,” Kayode replied.

“Do you?” James’ tone sharpened. He was more exhausted than usual after pulling a double shift, but Kayode’s carelessness cut through his fatigue. “You don’t seem to understand the gravity of this virus.”

“It’s dangerous. I’m reckless—” Kayode began.

“—yet you brought her into your house,” James interrupted.

Kayode met his gaze, then exhaled. “Yes. I foolishly made the call. But it’s done. Will you check on her again or not?”

James stood. “One last time. But Kayode, this woman belongs in a hospital. You’re taking a huge risk keeping her here.”

He walked toward the bedroom, muttering, “I’ll do what I can. I still need to run tests before I even know what we’re treating. I will take samples for them and pull strings to get a VIP instant Covid Test team here.”

“She doesn’t have Covid,’’ Kayode protested weakly.

“Only a test can rule it out,” James retorted before he left to check on Funmi again.

Two hours later, Kayode sat in a chair beside the bed, watching Funmi sleep. She looked better. James had gone to a nearby pharmacy for supplies, IV fluids, needles, and lab kits. He had given her a painkiller, set a drip, and taken blood samples. He didn’t understand Kayode’s motives, but for now, he chose not to ask further questions.

Slowly, Funmi’s eyes fluttered open.

Kayode leaned forward and gently took her hand, despite James’ earlier warning to keep his distance. But how could he see her like this, weak, helpless, and not hold her?

“Where am I?” she asked, voice raspy.

“You’re in my room,” Kayode said softly, patting her palm.

Her eyes widened. She pulled her hand away and tried to sit up too quickly, then slumped back, dizzy.

“Slow down,” he said, alarmed. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Funmi relaxed physically, but her voice remained sharp. “Why am I in your house? With a drip attached to me?”

“Because you’re sick,” Kayode began.

“The last I checked, you’re a chef, not a doctor. And this is definitely not a hospital.”

“You’re not my prisoner,” he said, standing up. “You can leave if you want.”

He turned toward the door, hiding his hurt, but her weak hand grabbed his.

“Why am I here?” she asked again, this time more gently.

Kayode sat beside her.

“I was at your office around 4 a.m, waiting to take you home. Your security officer and I found you unconscious at your desk. I planned to take you to a hospital, but you begged me not to, and then passed out.”

“I see,” she whispered, releasing his hand. Shame coloured her cheeks, as she remembered the conversation. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he said. “I’m just glad I was there.”

Funmi studied him. “I was scared. I didn’t want them forcing me into an isolation center when I know I don’t have the virus.” A tear rolled down her cheek.

Kayode scooted closer and held her hand again. He wanted to protect her, badly. But he also needed her to understand.

“There’s no way to know for sure until a test is done.”

She turned to look at him. “Then why are you touching me?”

He didn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. Then, bold, he reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. “I just can’t stop. I want to be here for you. No matter what the result says.”

Her breath caught. “What test?”

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly, distracted by the softness of her hair.

“What test, Kayode?” she asked again, her voice firmer.

He finally met her eyes. “My doctor friend is running a few tests to figure out what’s wrong. He’s also trying to pull some strings for a COVID test.”

Her expression froze.

A COVID test? Without her consent?

“I need to go home,” she said quietly.

Kayode sighed, gently withdrawing his hand. She missed the touch instantly, and it startled her. Was this just the sickness, or something else?

As his fingers brushed her wrist again, she stiffened.

“I can’t let you go yet, ma’am,” he said gently. “Not until we get the results. Please… just isolate here.”

She pulled her hand away, partly because his touch stirred something in her. And that scared her.

In just two days, she no longer saw him as Soji’s younger brother or a consulting chef. She saw a man. A bold, thoughtful, gentle man.

And no, he was definitely not gay.

His room was all masculine, dark blinds, leather furniture, and plain sheets. The only soft touch was the fur blanket covering her, but even that smelt… masculine.

His touch was the same. Masculine, but comforting. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

Lord Jesus, help me. I can’t fall for Soji’s younger brother. It’s the pain, please take it away.

There had been men in her life, George, her teenage boyfriend and now Head of Human Resources. Emeka, the business tycoon who tried to propose six years ago but got stood up. And Yinka… the one her family thought she would marry, until she caught him in bed with Ruth, her secretary of eleven years.

Each relationship ended the same way: she didn’t have time. She could build a company, manage a brand, close deals across continents, but she couldn’t make room for love.

Did she regret it? Not entirely. She had made peace with her choices. If the right man never came, she was prepared to raise children on her own.

Kayode is a different kind of man.

Maybe it was the fever playing tricks on her. Or maybe it was the way he had dropped everything, just to care for her, fully, attentively, without condition.

“Would you like something to eat?” he asked suddenly, cutting into her thoughts. “I’m thinking of making catfish pepper soup. With sweet potatoes and vegetables.”

His fingers were on her wrist again,  absentmindedly.

Funmi smiled. “Yes, please. With plenty of pepper.”

He smiled back and stood, still holding her hand.

“You’ll be fine, ma’am. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of you.”

Then he let go and left the room.

Funmi couldn’t respond. Her mind was still stuck on how he said those words.

Was this more than kindness?

She shook her head. Impossible. He was Soji’s baby brother. Definitely younger than her, especially since he always addressed her with formality, the way a younger person would an elder.

Still, it was hard to ignore the scent of him on the sheets. Or the feel of his hand. Or the sight of his shoulders in that sleeveless shirt.

She sank deeper into the bed.

What have I gotten myself into?

Dear Holy Spirit, Help me!