Chapter 10
The first thing I did when I opened my eyes was reach for Harlowe.
I’d had a little rest, and I was ready to pull her back underneath me.
I wanted her right back where she’d been all night, taking deep strokes of this dick.
I’d lost count of how many times I slid into Harlowe last night.
Three? Four? All I knew was by the end, her voice was gone, my dick was drained, and the only thing I wanted to do was stay in this bed with her wrapped around me.
My hand hit nothing but cold sheets. Her side of the bed was empty.
For a second, my stomach dipped, thinking maybe she’d woken up regretting everything we’d done.
I didn’t put it past Harlowe to have woken up, seen me, and sprinted her ass back to Azalea County.
If anybody was gonna wake up and try to act like last night was a mistake, it’d be her.
I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, letting everything replay.
Her back arched perfectly on my dick. The way she moaned my name when I was hitting her spot.
The look in her eyes when she told me she wanted me.
Yeah. No part of me was regretting any of it.
Marcus was gonna talk his shit. My mama was gonna do that little church sigh and ask a thousand times if I was sure.
Everybody was gonna have their opinions, but none of that made me wanna stop.
It just meant I was going to have a few conversations when we got home.
I glanced at the clock. It was almost ten.
“Damn,” I muttered, swinging my legs out the bed.
“That tight ass pussy knocked me out.” I glanced around the bedroom before making my way into the bathroom to brush my teeth.
She wasn’t in the bathroom either, but the damp floor told me she’d been here at some point this morning.
My chest tugged again. Had she taken a shower before fleeing to the damn airport?
“Don’t start this running shit, Harlowe.
” I splashed a little water on my face and brushed my teeth and tried to get my head straight.
We’d crossed a line last night, yeah, but I wasn’t the only one that leaped.
Harlowe had met me there every time willingly.
When I was done doing my hygiene shit, I grabbed some shorts and a T-shirt from my suitcase and pulled them on, still listening for any sign of her.
The TV wasn’t on. The other shower wasn’t running. Nothing.
If she wasn’t in the bedroom, and she wasn’t in the bathroom, the only place left to look was the patio. I didn’t even get halfway there before her voice started sailing through the air.
“Hey, loves.” She waved at her camera in full influencer mode as I approached. “It’s vacation day three.”
My shoulders dropped, and just like that, my whole body unclenched.
“And I have some vacation book recs for y’all.”
Her back was to me when I slid the patio door open, but I could see the whole setup.
She had her tripod propped on the little table with her ring light clipped to the top.
She was sitting crisscross on a lounge chair in pajama shorts and a T-shirt that read I speak fluent Urban fiction.
I leaned on the doorframe and just watched her do her content thing.
She pointed at nothing like she was holding up a book and smiled at the camera.
“This one is enemies to lovers on a group trip. This one is spicy. Y’all know how I like it.”
I almost laughed. Yeah. I knew.
“Alright, that’s it for now. Make sure y’all drinking water, minding your business, and reading Black romance. I love y’all. Bye.” She did the little hand wave and tapped the screen.
“You been standing there long?” she asked, turning the phone toward herself to check the video.
“Long enough.”
“Took you long enough to wake up,” she said, turning around. “I was about to come poke you with the tripod.”
I stepped out onto the patio. “You ain’t miss me that bad,” I said. “You was out here boo’d up with your books.”
“My books don’t snore.”
“I don’t snore,” I shot back, and she gave me a boy, please look as I made my way over to her, letting my gaze drag over her neck and shoulders. Purple marks were blooming right where my mouth had been.
“Damn,” I said, my thumb brushing one at the base of her throat. “Look like you got in a fight.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Don’t talk to me,” she muttered, swatting at my hand but not really moving it. “Hope you’re proud of yourself. I look like some silly high school girl.”
“Hell yeah,” I said proudly. “You?”
Her eyes ballooned as she followed my hand to the scratches she’d left on my chest. “Oh my God, Hasheem. I’m sorry.”
“You ain’t gotta apologize for getting good dick. I’m not apologizing for giving it to you.”
Her eyes glanced up at me for half a second and something flickered through them that had me trying to gauge what it was. Was it regret or second thoughts? That was really what I needed to know. She went quiet, fingers rubbing down her thighs just to have something to do.
“Unh uh,” I said, stepping closer. “Don’t do that quiet shit with me now.
” Her eyes flicked up, then back down. “We good, or we not?” I asked.
“You regretting last night? You want me to back up, or we actually doing this for real?” It was no point in beating around the bush.
We’d been friends long enough to be grown about this.
“If you want out, say that. I’ll respect it. ”
“No,” she said finally, still watching her hands. “I don’t regret it.” That was it. That was all I needed to hear her say.
“Alright,” I said, nodding. “Say less. I’m holding you to that.”
I’d been bracing for the chase, the “this was a mistake,” the “let’s just go back to being friends,” speech. That’s how this kinda thing usually went, right? Me and Harlowe never followed the script. “So what we doing then?” I asked, leaning back against the doorframe. “We making this official?”
“Can we . . .” She chewed her bottom lip. “Can we just let it be a vacation thing for now? No labels. Just enjoy this while we’re here and keep our friendship intact when we get back home.”
Her words stung a little, but I got it. If I pushed too hard, she’d run.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “We can call it that if it makes you feel better.” Vacation only. Yeah right. My mouth agreed, but in my heart, I knew she was mine. Nothing about our friendship had been the norm. I wanted her. She wanted me. Now all that was left was just to figure it out.
“What all you got on the schedule today?” I asked.
“Nothing. They gave us the day. Just that dinner thing tonight, and even that’s optional. I told them I’d still send some content in since we skipped the mixer, but we don’t have to be anywhere ’til like seven.”
“So we off the clock.”
“Technically.” She shrugged. “I was gonna vlog some batch content, and maybe go live—”
“Or,” I cut in, pulling her up from the chair. “You can let me steal you.”
She eyed me. “Steal me where?”
“Off this resort,” I said. “Real food. Real streets. Real date.”
“A date?”
“Yeah,” I said simply. “You think this relationship only about fucking?”
“Hasheem.” She laughed.
“Nah, I’m serious,” I said. “I know we kinda fell into this thing. We got a lot to figure out when we get back to Azalea, but you my girl, we on vacation, and I’ma treat it as such.”
She went quiet again, looking out at the water.
“Okay,” she said. “Can I blog it?”
“You can blog a little, but I want you relaxed, enjoying not working.”
“Okay.”
“Go get dressed.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t even know where we’re going.”
“I got a plan.”
“You got a Google search,” she said.
“Yeah, a plan,” I said, smacking her on the ass as she walked past.
“Hasheem!” she yelped, shaking her head. But that shy little smile told me she liked that shit. Soon as she was out of sight, I pulled my phone out and started planning my first date with my best friend.
By the time we climbed out of the cab, the sun was high and the streets were buzzing with cars and people walking.
We’d been all over Zanzibar sightseeing doing the tourist thing—breakfast by the ocean, boat ride to the sandbank, snorkeling with fishes, the whole nine.
Now we were in Stone Town at a local bookstore I’d found on my socials.
“This is so cute,” Harlowe said, taking it all in. She had on a little sundress and sandals, big shades, lip gloss shining, looking radiant. “Where we at?”
“Little spot I found,” I said, nodding toward the sign. “Books are your thing, so I figured you would want to check this place out.”
“You brought me to books?” she asked, mouth open.
“Yeah.” I shrugged as we made our way in the bookstore.
“Seemed like a no brainer.” That got a smile out of her, and she shook her head before dragging me toward the door.
The bell over the door dinged when we stepped inside.
The place was small and packed tight. There were shelves hitting the ceiling.
The aisles were wide enough for one and a half people to fit through.
“Karibu,” the man behind the counter said, looking up from a worn notebook. “Welcome, welcome.”
“How you doing?” I nodded back at him. By the time I looked over, Harlowe was already drifting toward a table that looked like it was all romance—bright covers, soft covers, some with folks kissing on the front, some with just flowers.
“Go crazy,” I told her, leaning on a shelf. “Whatever you want, I got it.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You say that now until my check bag fee is a thousand dollars.”
“I mean it,” I said. “You want the whole left side of this store? Point at it.”
I’d been giving Harlowe what she wanted since our friendship began. Now that we were deepening our friendship, she had to know she had me wrapped around her finger.
“Okay.” She nodded and started picking up books, flipping through the first pages, stacking the ones she liked in my arms like I was her personal cart.
I didn’t care. I just let her. I glanced down at her selection.
Some of them were in English, some had titles I couldn’t even sound out.
Didn’t matter. If she hugged it to her chest for more than two seconds, I knew it was coming my way.
“Ah,” the owner said when he walked past us, eyes crinkling at the stack in my hands. “Honeymoon?” I snorted while Harlowe choked.
“Something like that,” I said, and he smiled wider.
“She likes books more than jewelry. Very smart woman. You are lucky, my friend.” He moved past us to another side of the store. He didn’t get out of our sight good before Harlowe elbowed me in the ribs.
“You just lying to strangers now?” she whispered.
“Where’s the lie?” I shrugged, and she glared at me as we drifted toward the back of the store.
The shelves were higher and closer together.
The light back there was dimmer, and I’d be lying if I said the ambience and the way Harlowe’s titties and ass were bouncing in that sundress weren’t turning a nigga on.
“Hasheem, can you get that?” Harlowe reached for the book on a high shelf, and I grabbed it first, just to be a menace.
“Hasheem.” Her voice dropped. “Give me that.”
“Say please.”
“Boy, if you don’t—”
She reached again, and I lifted it higher, grinning.
“You really want it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said through gritted teeth, stepping closer.
“Stop playing.” She rose on her toes, fingers brushing my wrist. She smelled like coconut and whatever fancy lotion she’d packed.
Her chest bumped mine just a little, and that was all it took.
I dipped my head and kissed her lips, and she melted into me easily.
I dropped the book back onto the shelf and cupped her waist, turning us so her back was against the shelf.
“Hasheem,” she called breathlessly against my mouth as my hand slipped under her dress. I wasted no time letting my hand roam between her thighs. My fingers eased their way inside her panties until they met her wetness.
“Mmm,” I moaned against her lips. “Knew you were gon’ be ready for me.” I rubbed my thumb in slow circles. She shivered, hips rolling forward like she couldn’t help it.
“We’re supposed to be buying books,” she whispered.
“We are buying books,” I said. “We multitaskin’ and enjoying our vacation.” I slid my fingers into her and immediately hooked her G-spot. I knew we didn’t have much time, and I needed her coming undone for me before we were interrupted.
“Ooh—” She gasped a little too loud for how small the shop was. I silenced it with my mouth, kissing her deeply while my fingers got to work. I curled them just right, my thumb rubbing her clit. My middle and index finger stroked her insides as her juices spilled into my hands.
“Yes!” Her hand slid down my stomach, slipping under my waistband like she couldn’t help herself. Her fingers wrapped around my dick, giving a tight squeeze. She must have been trying to get fucked inside this damn bookstore.
“Shit!” I grunted as her hands moved around. I pushed my fingers a little deeper, picking up the pace just enough to have her knees wobbling and her forehead dropping to my shoulder.
“Hasheem, please,” she cried. “I’m about to . . . I’m gonna cum.”
“I know,” I muttered in her ear. “Go ’head. Make a mess on my fingers.”
On my command, her whole body clenched around my hand, and her hips jerked.
I held her there, working her through it, just as the bell over the front door chimed loud as hell, and we both froze.
Voices drifted from the front of the store.
It was another customer, and the owner greeting them.
Harlowe pressed her face into my chest, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh.
“We so ghetto,” she whispered. “I almost let you have your way with me in a foreign bookstore.”
“I did have my way with you,” I said as I brought my hand up and dragged my tongue over my fingers, licking her juices off slowly while she glared and yanked her dress back down.
“Hasheem,” she hissed under her breath.
“What? That shit tastes delicious.” I kissed her one more time, and then forced myself to back up. “Come on, man,” I said quietly. “Let’s go pay for your little haul before we get banned from the continent.” She slid her hand into mine, and we walked back toward the counter.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For this,” she said. “For not making this weird. For still being my best friend, even though we just changed everything.”
I didn’t say anything, just walked her to the counter. She didn’t have to thank me for some shit that came naturally. She would always be my best friend. She was just my woman now too.