Our hands scribble across our boards, careful not to reveal our answers.
Rachel and Shins get their first strike after she guesses Lea Michele. Shins’s answer is Regina Hall, who is different from hisfuture wife in every way. He guesses Regé-Jean Page, for obvious reasons, and frowns when Rachel reveals Theo James.
Awkward.
Rachel’s face is so red, I hand her my water bottle.
Kendrick and Bread get two points for each writing Halle Berry.
Antonio guesses my crush: Usher. My guess for him is Eva Marcille. Gorgeous. Hazel eyes. Model figure.
“Tatyana Ali?” I ask, my breath lodged in my throat.
He lifts a shoulder, keeping his eyes on his now-empty board. “I had a crush on Ashley Banks growing up. It just stuck.”
Jumping to conclusions is illogical—premature decision-making not seeded in analysis. The coincidence that Antonio’s crush happens to be my celebrity twin doesn’t feel like one anymore. It feels personal. Deeper.
If you knew how long I’ve wanted you.
Melvin clicks his heels and spins to the audience. “Let’s see if we can get Team Fiancé and Team BFF on the board. Question two: What is your partner’s favorite movie?”
Kendrick and Bread fail epically. Shins and Rachel also stumble.
“The Players Club?” She turns her nose up, flicking her hair over her shoulders.
“He likesThe Best Mantoo, for Candy.” Antonio snorts but clears his throat at Rachel’s glare.
“Miriam, what’s your answer?” Melvin asks.
Must everyone look at me?
My focus drops to the floor. “Well, it depends.The Sandlotis one of his favorites,” I say. “So isA League of Their Own.Mortal Kombatis up there.” His eyes are on me when I glance up. “You also likePredators. That’s a good one.”
He stares a beat before revealing his board. All four movies are there, in the order I mentioned.
“Look at that!” Melvin encourages the audience to cheer. “Antonio?”
He shifts to face me. “Aliensis your all-time favorite. You also loveBrown Sugar.”
I motion to his outfit. “I’m not the only one.”
He grins. “It wasn’t bad.Alien vs. Predatoris your honorable mention.”
I startle at Melvin’s clapping and turn my board.
“I think these two should get bonus points. What say you, audience?” The spotlight bounces off Melvin’s teeth. He extends the mic toward the roar of applause.
“Let’s turn up the heat!” Melvin clicks the heels of his dress shoes and pumps a fist into the air.
Sweat tickles my armpits at whatever “heat” means. Fantasies. Sex positions. Public sex confessions. Antonio and I will lose on the technicality that I’ve barely made it off the starting block of the pleasure Olympics.
“We can stop if you’re uncomfortable,” Antonio whispers. His hand covers my clenched fists in my lap.
“It’s fine.” I shift in my seat and eye an exit. “My answers won’t win us any bonus points. Vegas and my kitchen table are the only two highlights, which doesn’t say much because we were friends both times. I guess that doesn’t matter, because you were friends with all of the—”
Antonio’s mouth teases my lips apart. His large hand cups my cheek as he slides his tongue against the seam of my mouth, shattering my thoughts. My body tingles when his fingers splay across my thighs.
“Your past is behind us, as is mine,” he says. “Nothing else matters except the memories we make. Got it?”
