Chapter 9
You know I’m not sharing you with nobody.
Hasheem’s words were still echoing in my head, louder than my heartbeat.
Not because it sounded crazy, but because I knew he meant it.
Hasheem didn’t make statements like that unless he was dead ass serious.
Leave it to Hasheem to say something like that while I was still butt naked wrapped around him with my arms still locked at his waist.
“Here. Get any of those niggas that I missed.” He handed me my phone back.
For a second, neither one of us moved. Then he shifted backward, easing us apart.
My thighs instantly missed him between them.
My arms fell away from his waist, and my fingers dragged over his stomach on their way down like they didn’t want to let go either.
“You okay?” he asked as he helped me down from the table. Define okay.
“I’m . . . processing,” I said, which was the only thing I could confirm for sure.
He huffed before reaching for his shorts.
I steadied myself on the table, trying to remember how to stand like a normal human and not somebody whose soul had just gotten snatched from her body.
My legs were jelly, but I pretended it was from standing too fast. There should’ve been a damn warning label on that oil and on this whole couples’ retreat really.
Side effects? Losing your mind and letting your best friend rearrange your guts on a massage table.
I couldn’t look away as Hasheem bent to grab his shirt.
That big, beautiful third leg was still swinging like it hadn’t just put in work.
Even the muscles in his back were flexing like some kind of thirst trap.
I had to pry my eyes away from him. I fumbled around for my cover up and bikini top, trying not to look as freshly fucked as I felt.
“We should probably put some clothes on,” I mumbled.
“Probably.”
We didn’t say anything else. We moved on autopilot gathering our clothes as reality set in. We were naked in a sponsored cabana covered in oil. I took a few steps around the room, gathering my swimsuit before putting it back on.
“Y’all okay in there?” A knock sounded on the cabana door, making me jump. “Time was up fifteen minutes ago,” the person announced.
“Yeah, we good,” Hasheem called back. “We done.”
The footsteps in the hallway faded, and Hasheem pulled on his shorts. He didn’t even bother with his shirt, just slung it over his shoulder.
“You straight?” he asked.
Absolutely not.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Let’s go before they kick the door in.”
He opened the door, grabbed my hand, and we stepped out of the cabana into what felt like the walk of shame.
Our clothes were in place, but my curls were frizzy, my lip gloss was gone, and I was sure the look on both our faces said we’d had a good time in that cabana.
We didn’t even take ten steps before one of the couples spotted us coming down the path.
“Mmm hmm,” she said under her breath, eyes cutting our way. “That oil lab got us too.” Her man chuckled next to her. “Ten outta ten, would recommend.”
Heat shot up my neck as I forced a smile and nod and kept walking. This was already too embarrassing for me to take. We must have been speed walking because we made it back into the main pavilion, where a few couples were still scattered, in a matter of seconds.
“There y’all go,” Tiana called from by the bar.
She had a pink drink in one hand and Malik at her side grinning.
Her gaze dragged over my face, my wild hair, my wobbly legs, and her eyes ballooned.
“Look at you, edges sweated out. That’s how you do an oil lab.
” She sipped her drink slowly with a knowing look.
“Yeah, the oil lab was fun.” I tried to laugh regularly, but it came out choked.
“Girl, relax.” Tiana smirked. “You not the only one to come out here with the ‘I just got folded’ walk. It’s okay. We’re all on baecation.”
Hasheem laughed under his breath, but I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. My eyes darted around the pavilion looking for anywhere to escape to, but all they landed on was Simone making her way over to us with a salty bothered look on her face.
“There you two are,” she said. Her voice was mixed with sarcasm and professionalism. “I was just coming to check. Your slot was over about twenty minutes ago.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I started. “We—”
“If there’s an overage, you can put it on our room,” Hasheem cut in calmly. “I got it.”
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Her eyes bounced to him, her jaw tight. “Just try to be more considerate of everyone on the trip. Other couples want a nice experience too.”
“Noted,” he said, turning both of our backs to her and leaving her standing there looking stupid.
“Perfect,” Simone threw at our backs as she walked off, tapping on her tablet. Of course, she had to get the last word. It wouldn’t be Simone if she didn’t.
“Okay, couples!” one of the hosts said into the mic from the front. “Quick reminder. Our next event is sunset cocktails at eight.”
“We’ll be there!” I replied, smiling and waving. I just needed to say something normal, because it felt like everyone was staring at me while my insides were screaming I just fucked my best friend.
“I need a shower,” I blurted. “Right now.”
“Say less,” Hasheem said. “We’ll catch y’all later,” he told Tiana and Malik before pulling me away. “Come on.”
We slipped out of the pavilion and onto the stone pathway toward the villas.
The sky was already turning pink. If I was watching us, we’d look like a perfect little vacation couple.
But we weren’t, and every step I took, my brain screamed at me, You just had sex with Hasheem, and you liked it, and you want to do it again, bitch!
I couldn’t wait to get back to the villa so I could drop this little information in my chat with Dee.
“Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other,” I told myself, attempting to focus on making it back to the room.
Once we got back there, I could fall apart like a proper crash out.
I put my eyes on the ground and let the gravel crunch below my sandals.
By the time we got to our door, my brain was fried.
Hasheem swiped the keycard and pushed open the door.
I didn’t even remember walking inside. All I knew was as soon as the door clicked shut behind us, I was free to fall apart.
“Oh my God,” I said, dropping my bag on the couch. “Oh my God, Hasheem. What did we just do?”
“We had sex.” He locked the door and leaned there, watching me like I was a show. “And we not about to make it a big deal.”
“I slept with your brother,” I blurted, like he didn’t already know that part.
“Your blood brother literally took my virginity in y’all’s mama basement, and now, I just .
. .” I waved a hand toward the door like it could point back at the massage room.
“I just let you do that to me in a brand suite. I’m the family ho! ”
“I mean . . .” He shrugged as he burst out laughing.
“I’m serious,” I said, pacing. I snatched my toiletry bag from the dresser, grabbed my bonnet, my lotion, anything.
“My pussy might as well be a damn family heirloom at this point. Your mama is going to be like, ‘This Harlowe. Marcus’s first love. Hasheem’s.
. .’” I froze, because I didn’t have a word. “I can’t even say it. Oh my God!”
“You doing the most, Lowe,” he said.
“Nah, I am doing the math,” I snapped. “I’m nasty.
I need a shower. I need holy water. I need prayer.
” I stomped toward the bathroom, still talking.
“How did you let this happen, Harlowe?” I dropped my cover up on the floor and pulled off my bikini before twisting the shower handle and climbing in.
I didn’t even have the patience to wait for it to warm.
I stepped under the spray and let the water rain down on my body with my forehead pressed against the tile.
“Okay, Harlowe. Okay. You can fix this. You just . . . can’t ever do it again. You can compartmentalize. You can—”
The glass door slid open behind me, halting my little motivational pep talk. I turned, hoping it was anybody other than who I knew it was.
“What are you doing, Hasheem?” I attempted to cover myself, like he hadn’t just seen all my goodies on display.
“Taking a shower,” he said, like it was obvious as he stepped in completely naked.
“With me?” My voice went up several octaves. “We can’t shower together. We already . . . you know.” I flapped a hand between us. “This is insane.”
“What’s insane about taking a shower with my girl?”
“Your what?” I asked, his words slapping me in the chest.
“My girl,” he repeated. “You heard me.”
“We did not have a meeting about that.”
“We had one on that table,” he said. “You just weren’t taking notes.”
I hated him. I hated how my mouth wanted to smile while I was trying to stay mad.
“Hasheem, this is messy,” I said, clinging to the only argument I had left. “I dated your brother. You were engaged to my friend. You are my best friend. You my safe person. We cannot—”
“Turn around,” he cut me off quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“Harlowe. Turn yo’ fine ass around.”
I rolled my eyes on instinct, but my body listened before my brain could fight about it. I turned, hands finding the tile as he stepped up behind me, close enough that I could feel every place we still fit together. His hands slid over my shoulders and down my arms slowly with my body wash.
“This is so messy,” I muttered. “We are so messy. What are Marcus and Simone and your mom going to think? Oh my God. What about my parents? Before, we could say we were just faking a relationship, but this—”
“Harlowe.” His voice cut clean through my rant. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“Cap.” His mouth brushed my ear. “You in your head again, spiralin’ about everybody but the two people who were in that cabana making the decision.”
“Because it’s a lot, Hasheem. Everyone is going to have an opinion.”