How to Fix a Broken Heart

By Bambo Deen

Don’t they say two wrongs make a right...or something?
Dawn is officially in the struggle zone. Her job is a mess, her side hustle isn’t faring much better, and home doesn’t bring the comfort she needs. Dawn is sinking under the weight of responsibilities and needs some fun to counter all this stress. The best remedy comes in a tall, hunky package who just happens to be emotionally unavailable. Sometimes, hooking up with the wrong guy is the best way to unwind.

Red is nursing a broken heart...or at least it feels like one. His on-again-off-again girlfriend is putting him through hell. Surely it won’t hurt to test the waters a bit? A one-night stand with Dawn leaves him wanting more. He has been lonely for too long, and trying to stand on his own feet is hard when there’s no one on his team.

Two young lovers are drawn together amid family feuds, secrets and legacies. With emotions running high and betrayals at every turn, Red and Dawn learn the best way to fix broken hearts is with each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Love Africa Press
• Release date: Dec 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215609125

Book preview

First Published in Great Britain in 2023 by

LOVE AFRICA PRESS

103 Reaver House, 12 East Street, Epsom KT17 1HX

www.loveafricapress.com

Text copyright © Bambo Deen, 2023

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

The right of Bambo Deen to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Available in eBook and paperback format

Dedication

To Mima for inspiring major storylines and supporting me through it all.

PART I

Chapter One

For one efficient wedding loaded with delicious food, the libations proved sorely lacking. What had looked like wine at first glance turned out to be grape juice.

There’s no alcohol, Dawn said to her best friend Sope over the live band playing fuji classics.

Her family is religious, Sope replied.

Dawn nodded solemnly. The bridal shower yesterday had been a sombre affair dominated by aunties advising the bride to submit to her husband and then warning the bride’s friends about the dangers of pre-marital sex.

On a gilded couch on the platform, bride & groom wore matching colours of orange and gold. They made a handsome couple, and as Sope had indeed stated, the groom’s six brothers were eye candy and definitely belonged on a modelling catalogue. While Dawn wished everyone well, she’d only shown up for the party, yet what kind of party could be had without alcohol?

Hold on, see that table? Easy! Sope gently touched Dawn’s cheek so she wouldn’t crane her head. You always stare too hard. The table to your left.

Dawn tried her best to be subtle as she glanced left amid the sea of tables decorated with plastic flowers and bronze centre-pieces. Guests milled around, mingling with servers and a few children running unsupervised. Finally, she saw what Sope referred to. About two tables down, she spied men about their age slipping a bottle of vodka back and forth underneath the white tablecloth. She perked up immediately.

Should we ask them?

You go and ask since you want to be tipsy so bad, Sope replied. Wait… See that guy over there?

Which one?

Sope groaned as Dawn craned her head.

Dawn was about to laugh at her friend’s exasperation when she saw him. The straight-backed man with caramel skin, with the friendliest face at the table. He smiled at something his friends were saying while his long fingers shredded a paper napkin on the table.

Ah, you’ve seen him. He’s our type.

It was running joke between them that they found the same kind of man attractive. This one ticked all the boxes; he was tall, his eyes were round and expressive, his broad shoulders fit snugly against the tailored white tunic he wore, his full lips suggested decadent kisses.

Dawn perked up. Should I bring him back? With the alcohol, obviously.

Both would be nice. Sope batted her eyes dreamily.

Dawn winked at her friend and got up. This would be just like their undergrad days of shameless flirting at Ilorin, before she’d gone for an MBA in the US. Even with the post-graduate degree, her prospects here seemed bleak, and with the restaurant on top, goodness knows her life needed the distraction.

She tugged her skin-tight lace dress down. Made by Sope’s tailor with the matching teal fabric chosen for the wedding guests, the outfit hugged all her curves, ankle-length with a slit reaching mid-thigh, the sheer netting over her shoulders and chest showing off her cleavage.

Sope wolf-whistled. Dawn tossed her silky straight weave over her shoulder and threw a smile at her friend. She knew she looked good. As she sashayed towards her target, she felt eyes on her. The attention brought a satisfied smile to her face and emboldened her.

The men at the table perked up at her approach, except for Mr Sexy. He didn’t notice her until she touched his shoulder.

Hey! She smiled, amused at the way his brows shot up.

Dawn leaned forward, placing one hand on the table’s edge and the other on her hip so he could hear her over the live band but also affording him a view of her breasts. His dark eyes scanned her body, leaving a hint of frisson in their wake before he looked away.

She wasn’t expecting that. Was he shy? Even better. Mr Sexy was much more handsome now she was near. He looked like he worked out, the muscles on his forearms like a magnet for her fingers. Everything about him invited temptation. She touched his forearm lightly even though she really wanted to run her hands over his buzz cut and clipped beard. His full lips were screaming to be sucked on, with nibbles reserved for that pink bottom lip.

Hello.

There was a throaty quality to his voice that made her want to hear him talk all day.

He drew closer to whisper in her ear. Have we met before?

A light shudder racked through her at the touch of his breath on her skin. She could smell his cologne now, a hint of some spice amidst the lavender and orange blossom.

Of course. You’re the man I’ve been dreaming of.

The music suddenly stopped. Everything froze as he looked at her. Their eyes connected, and Dawn thought she could hear each breath and each heartbeat. Then Mr Sexy chuckled, a sound that reverberated through her.

Afrobeats filled the hall as the DJ took advantage of the silence. The harsh tunes broke whatever spell had come over her. She was about to straighten up, but Mr Sexy placed a hand over hers. She blinked as his hand engulfed hers, the skin of his palm cool and inviting.

It was like he always held her this way.

What do you see when you dream of me? he asked.

She was proud of her ample curves. Her body drew attention almost everywhere she went; men would stare at her breasts when she talked or make comments about her butt. But this one, he looked straight at her face. She was the one racing with inappropriate thoughts this time.

I see you watching me while we fuck—

She shook her head in an attempt to clear it, having almost forgotten why she came here in the first place. They were drawing the attention of his friends at the table.

I see you blessing me with some vodka.

His brows knitted.

I’m Dawn, she rushed to say, putting a pause on her flirting. Her heart was beating at a ridiculous pace, and she needed to return to Sope. Me and my friend saw you guys have alcohol.

He lifted his chin, their lips now a breath apart. Dawn stopped breathing. How crazy would it be to hold the back of his neck and plant her lips over his? She cringed inwardly. She was looking for fun and an orgasm or twenty, yes, but right now, she needed to get a grip of herself.

We do, Dawn.

His voice was sonorous, like thunder rumbled in his belly. She liked the way her name rolled off his tongue, with authority. Not unpleasant at all.

Do you mind if we borrow your bottle?

Her nose tingled at his scent. She pinpointed the spicy tinge in his cologne—coriander. God.

He flashed a devilish grin at her and stood. Dawn had to step back to take him in. There was no risk of her falling, but Mr Sexy placed a hand on her waist. Her pussy clenched. A warm heat pulsed off him, making her ache for his touch without the barrier of clothes. His hand rested slightly above her waist, and yet, it was sending signals right to her clit. She grew light-headed.

Guys, say hi to Dawn, he said over the loud tunes.

Hi, Dawn, his friends chorused in tones ranging from lascivious to teasing.

Red, you didn’t say you had a babe in Ilorin, one of them said.

A man must keep his secrets. Mr Sexy—Red—placed a hand on her lower back and guided her around the curve of the table. He signalled to one of his friends, and a full bottle of whiskey materialised. I hope this will do?

She nodded, her skin burning under her dress where he touched her, and all she could focus on. She had to concentrate when his hand lay a few centimetres away from her bum, ready as she was to do something unruly like arch her back so he touched her right there.

Thanks, she said and took the heavy bottle. You guys have a whole bar back here.

Red chuckled. You’re welcome.

He dipped his head and stepped away. At the loss of his contact, she gasped, then reached for his sleeve without thinking. She’d been wanting a distraction, and the Universe had blessed her with this intensely hot man. She needed a moment to catch her breath, but she also wasn’t going to let Mr Sexy Red just walk away.

You asked for a bottle… he began.

Her face heated. My friend wants to say hi.

She gestured at Sope who was watching them intently. Sope waved at Red, and when he turned back to Dawn, mouthed words she couldn’t make out, her attention homed in on Red.

Shall we, then? He was leading her away from his table.

She shook her head. Are you always this agreeable?

When they’d left his friends behind, he whispered, You just saved me.

There it was again, his breath on her neck. Dawn’s nipples tightened. Her body was so tightly strung, and she had spent barely five minutes in this man’s presence.

What?

I was getting bored, he replied.

Aren’t they your friends?

No. Weren’t you seated back there?

She looked at him, distracted. They had passed by Sope whose lips were now pursed, her cheeks puffed as she held back from laughing out loud. Dawn was going to kill her when they got back home.

Yes, we’re over there.

Circling back, she made the proper introductions before sitting down. Sope tapped an empty chair next to her. Dawn was sure someone else had been sitting there before she left to lure Red—a middle-aged man with a bulging stomach. How had Sope gotten the man to leave his seat? Sope excelled at getting what she wanted, and now, her attention was on Red.

What kind of name is Red? she asked, batting her minx lashes at him.

Dawn hadn’t thought to ask earlier, so drawn to him, it had skipped her mind. Instead of engaging in polite conversation, her mind had been quickly filling with fantasies of climbing that large body of his. She poured a healthy dose of whiskey into their drinks and tucked the bottle under her chair.

It’s a name that’s hiding another name, he replied as he squeezed his bulk between them.

There wasn’t enough space. Dawn could feel his heat.

Oh, Sope chortled, drawing out the vowel. Are you friends with the groom or the bride?

Sope, stop querying the man, she said, pushing the hastily mixed cocktail her way.

What? I can’t get to know a good-looking man?

Red smiled good-naturedly. It’s no problem, ask away, Sope. I’m here as my mother’s plus one.

Oh, a mama’s boy, Sope teased.

I prefer to say I’m a good son.

It’s all good, we like loyalty. Sope took a sip from her drink. So, where are you based?

Dawn held back a groan. She picked her phone and saw no notifications, dropped it back, and then drank some more. In the past, she and Sope would tease guys they found attractive only to leave them hanging dry afterwards. Sope played bad cop while Dawn cut in with light teasing remarks. She should be used to Sope’s grilling, yet she felt herself wanting to interrupt to save Red.

Sope poked her side with her elbow. Dawn lives in Abuja, too.

Mn? She’d lost track of what they were saying.

Red lives in Abuja. He’s only here for the weekend. I told him he’s lucky. Ilorin girls would have eaten him for lunch, breakfast, and dinner.

I do. Dawn turned her attention to Red.

Where did this fervent quality to his gaze come from? She fought the urge to snap open her hand fan and bring it to her face. It was like his eyes were stroking her bare skin.

Which part of the city do you call home? he asked.

Why are you asking? She slipped into flirty mode once again. "Are you planning to visit me at home?

Aha! Sope trilled.

The expression on Red’s face said he would happily make plans to visit her at home. She glanced away and dug into the now cold jollof rice. Tasty as food served in parties went, but she didn’t really have an appetite. She just needed to do something with her hands lest she start rubbing on Red’s firm thigh pressing against hers.

What are you and your friends doing after the wedding? Sope asked, tilting her head to their corner. Is there an after party?

I wouldn’t know. He shrugged.

He said he just met them today, Dawn added.

They paused when servers came around, this time with platters of fried yam and peppered kebabs. While Sope grilled Red, Dawn asked for more mocktails. She felt a pleasant light-headedness in Red’s presence.

You must tell us all about that, Sope said. You guys seemed close.

Nah, it’s nothing like that, Red said. My mother is sat at the high table, and there was only space for one.

So those are strangers? Sope said. And they let you dash us a bottle of Jack Daniels? Is this a men thing?

More drinks arrived at the table so Dawn busied herself mixing them with the alcohol. As Red gave friendly answers to Sope’s questions, she snuck a peek at the table in the centre of the hall where the couple’s family and close friends sat. An absolutely stunning older woman in a towering green gele and rows of pearls commanded the space and could pass for the bride’s mother, except Dawn had met her last night. There was no way to be certain for sure, but she suspected this woman was Red’s mother. She saw some similarity in the shape of their eyes.

Earth to Dawn, Sope said, waving her hands in front of her face. Where’s your mind at, ore?

Right here, babe. She handed out the drinks.

Red accepted his whiskey-tinged chapman and tilted his head towards Dawn.

About visiting you at home, he started.

She coughed into her drink while Sope covered her mouth with her hands as she laughed.

I could take you out when we’re back in Abuja? he continued.

Dawn’s face heated. They were both acting like schoolgirls—this wasn’t like them at all. Fellow students used to call them sharks back in the day. Between her physique and Sope’s stunning looks, they had boys eating out of their hands. Now, all she felt was sweat gluing her dress to her skin.

Friend, are you okay? A huge Cheshire cat grin sat on Sope’s face, suggesting she already knew exactly what Dawn was feeling. Aren’t you going to answer?

Is she not interested? Red looked at Sope with a lopsided grin and shifted his shoulders in mock defeat.

I’ll come to Abuja so you can take me out, Sope said. Then she did what Dawn had wanted to from the time she’d walked up to Red’s table. She ran a finger along the edge of Red’s jaw playfully.

Actually, Dawn piped up. I was hoping…something sooner.

Red spun to her. Over his shoulder, Sope stuck her tongue out at her. Her lips moved as she silently mouthed, Get him.

That could work, Red said.

Is that a promise?

Dawn grinned at Red and was soon lost in his dark gaze. Her pulse beat at the base of her throat, mirroring the insistent drumming between her legs. She shifted in her seat, and the movement caused her clit to brush against her inner thighs. She whimpered.

Red’s knowing smile told her all she needed to know. She was in trouble.

Chapter Two

Dawn mimed powdering her nose at her friend before pushing her chair back.

Excuse me, she said to Red as she grabbed her bejewelled clutch purse.

She stood and made her way out of the hall as fast as her weak knees could take her.

Are there restrooms here? she asked the usher positioned at the exit.

Back of the hall.

She needed two things: to escape and catch her breath for a minute, but also to confirm what she was feeling. Her panties felt heavy, soaked with the pleasure of Red’s closeness. He hadn’t even touched her yet.

This is crazy, she muttered to herself.

When was she ever this attracted to a man? She doubted she ever had been. There was a first for everything. As she rounded behind the building, she smelled the restrooms a mile away. She pivoted, and a curving staircase leading up to the second floor of the hall caught her eye.

She looked down at her tight dress and up at the second floor. Sighing, she climbed onto the first step and slowly made her way up. The hall in which the wedding was being held was built so the second floor looked over the dance floor below. Around the balcony were tables, some bare, others covered in cloth. Overall, this space was not as well-decorated as downstairs and less crowded. Two or three people wore the teal colours of the fabric chosen for the occasion. A few women attendants sat in a corner eating. No one paid her any mind.

Because there were less people here, it was cooler. Dawn paused in front of a standing air conditioner. Her eyes sought a place that would offer privacy. She spied a door at the far end and made for it. The door knob yielded easily, and she walked into an empty room. Shutting the door quietly behind her, she leaned against the wooden frame. After drawing in a shaky breath, she guided her right hand up the slit of her dress to the apex of her thighs. Her panties were damp. Pushing them to the side, she ran her fingers over her wetness and shuddered. Surely, one man couldn’t have this effect on her.

Her phone vibrated, jarring her out of her exploration.

She unclipped her clutch and brought out her phone. There was a text from Sope.

Sope: Done powdering your nose?

Dawn: Thank God you decided to put a will together last year.

Sope: LOOOOOL

Sope: Don’t kill me please, I’m my mother’s only child.

Sope: He keeps searching for you btw. His eyes are glued to the entrance.

Dawn: I’ll be down in a minute.

Sope: Situation report: stream, lake, or river?

Dawn slapped a hand over her eyes. Sope knew her too well. It should be illegal for a best friend to have this kind of intel.

Dawn: Tsunami

Sope: !!

Sope: I’m sending him up.

Dawn put her phone down. This was their M.O. If a flirtation showed promise, a short make out session was up next—the goal to determine if he was a good kisser and the size of his dick. Only afterwards would they take it to the next level. This strategy had saved both of them from lacklustre sex in the past.

Her phone buzzed with a new notification.

Sope: Or am I slipping up on my bestie duties and you’re not interested in him at all?

Dawn: I am.

She gave a hasty description of the room. They agreed Sope would interrupt them after a while.

Sope: Will 10 minutes be enough?

Dawn: It might even be too much…

Sope: That man is not a terrible kisser!

Sope: Okay. He’s coming up.

She giggled at the gif Sope sent next of a man wearing glasses making out with his hand. After returning her phone to her purse, she set it down on the tiled floor and leaned against the door. She closed her eyes, enjoying the coolness of the wood against her skin.

Now…

She traced her hand up her exposed thigh and reached for her pussy, exploring her damp folds gently. A moan escaped her lips. Torn between confusion and pleasure, she probed at her entrance, and its slickness made her gasp. She twisted, aching for more, but her dress constricted her.

A sharp knock made her jump.

Who—

It’s me.

She wiped her hand along her gown and turned to open the door. Red filled the frame, searing her with his presence. Her head swam. She dragged him into the room, pulling him down by his neck until his lips crushed hers.

His mouth moved over hers, fanning the embers of her desire. His tongue teased her lips open as he devoured her until she felt boneless. She held onto him to keep from tumbling over. Their bodies melded, evidence of his pleasure pressing against her belly.

As their tongues danced, she ran her hands over the wide expanse of his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his firm strength. Impatient, she pulled at the bottom of his tunic. Her fingers tugged at the knot holding his traditional-style trousers up.

Woah, he groaned, breaking away. He held her wandering hands still. Not here.

Her lips tingled. Where? Your hotel?

It’s right next door.

The events hall was located within the grounds of a fancy, newly-built hotel.