Chapter 6 Solé #3
The hallway suddenly felt too narrow. The fluorescent lights felt too bright.
His smile felt too practiced. I shifted my weight, suddenly wanting to disappear into the walls, wanting my softness to stop being mistaken for permission.
I could feel Mel’s energy tighten beside me, protective and ready, like a match being struck. She was getting ready to step in.
I opened my mouth to tell him no, but the words felt stuck right behind my teeth, not because I did not know what to say, but because I hated having to say it at all when I had already said no so many times before.
Then I heard Roman’s voice, smooth and loud enough to cut right through the awkwardness.
“Excuse me, Ms. S. Did you still want to set up your private swim lessons with me? Do you have time now? I can put you on my schedule for next week.”
Relief washed over me so fast I almost felt dizzy. It poured through me in one clean sweep, loosening the knot in my chest, giving my voice back.
I turned toward him with a grateful smile. “Yes. Yes, I do,” I said quickly.
Roman nodded once, like we settled it, and I didn’t waste a second. I walked away with him toward the parking lot. My steps were lighter than they had been all day.
As soon as we got outside, I looked up at him. “Thank you.”
His face stayed calm, but his eyes didn’t. They were sharp with care, steady with concern, protective without being too loud.
“You must speak up for yourself, baby. Next time, I won’t be so nice to him. I don’t like you looking uncomfortable. How long has that weird nigga been pressing you?” he asked inquisitively.
“He’s harmless, Roman. I can handle him.
I don’t need you to get into any trouble for me, baby.
You just got this job, and it would devastate me if they reprimanded you over some tomfoolery on my account.
I’ll let him down easily, again. I think the only other person who wants me besides you is my student’s father from the game,” I declared.
Roman stepped in front of me, looking down at my face, blocking the sun and the noise like he meant to make a quiet pocket where only the truth could fit.
“You are too nice, baby. That nigga was watching you through your classroom door earlier when I first came to walk you to your car. I didn’t even want to go back to sis’ class to get her portion of the play I set up for you for our date.
I want to be with you next time you tell him to fuck off in case he tries something funny.
I don’t like that nigga energy, and I’m never wrong, love. ”
His voice tightened with restraint, not rage. He was choosing calm on purpose.
“For that other lame, same goes for him. You my baby. Folks are going to have to learn to step light and stop playing with you in my presence, or I’m going to have to address it.”
It was right then I realized my baby wasn’t wrapped too tight, but what did that say about me? Because it turned me smooth the hell on.
He bent down to kiss my forehead and opened my car door for me, gentle like I was something to keep safe, not just something to be wanted.
“Follow me,” he said, then winked like he wasn’t just seconds away from fighting for my honor.
I slid into my seat, still replaying Mr. Henderson’s stare and that too-sweet smile that felt invasive.
Was I too nice? Probably. I’d been calling it grace, but grace without boundaries was an open door, and I couldn’t keep offering that to people who didn’t show respect.
I inhaled slowly and decided I’d get firmer, not cruel, but clear.
My kindness wasn’t consent, my softness wasn’t permission, and I didn’t owe an apology for protecting myself.
My phone buzzed.
Mel:
Whew, ya man came in like Superman ready to save his Lois. Did you see the look in his eyes? He was all gas, no brakes. You forgot all about my ass, and I love this for you.
Don’t you dare feel bad, either. Go have fun with your boo and tell me all about it later. I’ll be with the girls and Nan.
You’re gonna love it! I love you!
I smiled at her texts, and her words loosened the knot in my ribs. Mel had always been my unapologetic reminder that I deserved to be chosen out loud, cared for without having to earn it through exhaustion. She kept telling me love didn’t have to be hunted; it could find me, then stay.
And Roman, he’d sliced through that hallway moment like he could hear discomfort in my breathing, clocking the tension in my shoulders and refusing to let it take up residence in my body.
So, I pulled out behind him and followed, letting him lead me into whatever he had planned.
We arrived at this park near the downtown district of Self Ridge, and the late afternoon light hit everything with a gentle glow, softening the trees and warming the sidewalk like the world was intentionally setting the mood.
Roman paid for my parking and his, then came around to my door before I could even think about unbuckling too fast. He helped me out of the car, and when he took my hand, his grip was steady, sure, and protective without being possessive.
It felt like guidance and care. He led me down a brick path toward a gazebo.
I gasped at the sign that was hanging:
Book Scavenger Hunt for Your Heart
My breath caught at the back of my throat. My eyes widened, and my mind tried to catch up. How the hell did he pull this off?
I smiled in awe and looked around at the decorated area with flowers, the food, and the cooler.
It was thoughtful down to the details, not flashy, but intentional and my love language with receipts.
Even the way the flowers sat in their arrangements looked curated, like someone had been gentle with every petal.
I turned back toward him, and he was already looking at me.
He wasn’t watching the setup, but me, as if my reaction was the only part he cared about getting right.
“How did you . . . When did you have time to do this?”
He reached for my other hand and held it too, as if he wanted both my palms in his, like he was anchoring me before I floated away in disbelief.
“I had this set up for you today by my cousin Bryce. Your girl Mel came through in the clutch, my homie Ahmad, and his girl, Jazz, along with her sister-in-law, Jonay,” Roman said with pride sitting heavy in his voice, like it belonged there.
“Ahmad’s a detective, so you know he made sure nobody messed with nothing.
I owe his baby girl swim lessons for a month, but it was worth it to see the look on your pretty ass face.
Come on. Let’s go. You have to read the clues, love.
They are all book-related, and they have everything to do with what you told me you want in a new relationship,” he said as he squeezed my hand.
My heart fluttered in my chest, not loud or frantic, just full, and it made my eyes sting.
I leaned up to kiss his lips before I would talk myself out of it.
He looked surprised for a second, then his hand slid to my chin, gentle and certain, and he deepened the kiss like he was answering a question I did not know I was asking.
I walked over to the first clue.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I could never, ever just let you be. If you become mine officially, I’ll protect your pretty ass with my life, to the death of me.” My eyes watered. “This is safety,” I whispered, my voice trembling on the last word.
“That’s right, baby,” Roman said, close behind me. “I’ll always look out for you, protect you, and keep you safe, love.”
He reached into a bag and handed me a copy of The Point of Exhale by Kimberly Brown, and I could barely keep it together.
The cover felt cool under my fingertips.
The moment felt warm all over my skin. My throat was thick with emotion, the way it always got when something hit too close to home.
The way my book bae Safari stepped behind my girl Elise was everything.
“Thank you so much. I love Kimberly Brown down!”
He reached out for the book, and I held it instinctively, as I needed proof this was real. He laughed and shook his head. “I won’t keep it for long, beautiful.”
I handed it over to him, then I walked down the path to a large box. I looked up at Roman in confusion, my eyes wide.
“Open it, love.”
I did.
There were boxing gloves and a note. “Speak up. Open your heart to me at all times. Tell me what’s on your beautiful mind. We discuss our dreams, our fears, and our future together. We’ll make it through any storm if we trust and build with each other.”
My breath shook on the way out. I held the note like it might fall apart if I squeezed too hard. Communication. Real communication. Not the kind that comes after damage, but the type that prevents it.
I reached for his hand. “Roman, baby, th-this is beautiful.”
He brought my hands to his lips and kissed them softly, lingering like he was honoring my tenderness and not rushing me through it. His mouth was warm. His reverence was warmer. “Which one is it, Connie?”
“Communication.”
“Good girl.” His voice lowered, sweet and firm at the same time. “You should check in that bag, too, mama.” He winked at me again.
I looked at the side of the box, and there was a bag with a book inside. I removed it to find a copy of Mya’s Krash you practice it. You give care like it’s intentional, kindness like its principle. That name wasn’t random. It was assigned.”
My throat tightened once again, the way it did when something tender hit too close to the truth.
Heat climbed into my cheeks, and I knew my freckles were illuminated in the way he loved.
Not from embarrassment, but from being seen so clearly it made my chest ache.
I stared at him like I was trying to memorize the moment.
It felt as if I looked away too fast, it might disappear.
“Roman . . .” I finally managed, and even my voice came out softer than I meant it to.
I swallowed, shook my head once, and pressed my palm to his chest like I needed something steady to hold on to. My eyes glossed over, and I hated how fast it happened, but I couldn’t stop it.
“I don’t even know what to say,” I whispered, barely audible.
He was still looking at me, patient and sure, like he wasn’t asking for a performance, just letting me feel it. So, I did. I nodded, lips trembling into a small, touched smile, and let the silence speak for me while my heart tried to catch up.
He walked me to a nearby bench, sat down, pulled me onto his lap, then turned my face toward him. His hands framed me carefully, like he understood I wasn’t fragile, but I was precious.
“I’m moving intentional with you because I see a future with you, baby.
I’m not just passing time with you. I have a meeting set up with this female I was dealing with before you to let her know in person we are done, since she can’t take hints from me not messaging her back.
I don’t need anything coming between us.
I’m not going to keep secrets from you ever.
You are going to be my future wife for real, and I’m going to respect you in all ways. What do you say?”
My laugh came out shaky because my heart was overwhelmed in the gentlest way. He was a mess, yes. But he was also clear. Clear was rare. Clear was a gift. I looked at him, really looked, and felt something settle in me. A quiet yes. A soft courage. A permission to believe what I was seeing.
“Of course, love.”
“Call me that again,” Roman teased.
I giggled. “It would be my pleasure, love.”
We sealed our newfound relationship with a kiss, and it wasn’t fireworks. It was warmer than that. It was promise. It was peace. It was the beginning of something that felt like it had been waiting on us to stop pretending we didn’t want it.