“You straight?” Hasheem asked as soon as our eyes locked, like he knew I was two seconds from jumping in the ocean and swimming far away from here.
“I’m fi?—”
“Remember,” the facilitator interrupted. “We’re using the prompts on the mat. Wherever I tell y’all to step, that’s your question. Don’t overthink it. Just be honest. This exercise is about connection.”
“Partner B, right foot on blue,” she called, and I glanced down. The blue circle closest to me readA moment I was proud of you…
“You first.” Hasheem nodded in my direction.
“Um . . . I was proud of you when you graduated fire academy,” I said, trying to sound like a normal person and not a woman on the verge of asking her best friend to fuck her silly on this mat. “The whole process actually—the late nights, thedoubles, the EMT classes . . . all of it. You actually became the thing you always said you would, and I was so proud. I still am.”
His eyes softened in that way that made my heart flutter.
“That’s what we doing?” he asked in a voice only I could hear. “We using real shit?”
“That’s the assignment,” I muttered.
“Alright,” he said, squeezing my hands. “My turn.”
The facilitator grinned. “Partner A, left foot on green.”
Hasheem shifted, his toes landing on a green circle between us. “I feel safest with you when . . .” He read out loud looking dead at me. “I feel safest with you when everything else is pulling at me, I come to you, and it’s quiet. I can dump whatever’s on my chest and you just . . . hold it. You my peace, Harlowe.”
My heart fluttered again. The same flutter it’d been doing since the plane.
“Aww. Black love is so beautiful,” Tiana cooed behind us.
“Next one,” the facilitator announced. “Partner A, step in. Left foot on red. Partner B, right foot on yellow. Hands stay together. And this time, you both answer the prompt.”
We shuffled, trying not to trip over each other. Hasheem’s left foot landed between mine, spreading my stance. My right foot hit yellow, knees brushing. We looked like we were about to get ready to tangle.
“This weekend, I want us to . . . ” I read out loud, and my brain immediately started spinning.Go viral. Sleep together.Have naked beach sex. Not ruin everything.“This weekend, I want us to actually enjoy each other,” I said slowly. “Not just for the camera. Like . . . real laughs, real talks . . . No weird energy. Just . . . us having a good time for real.”
“I can work with that,” Hasheem replied before giving his answer. “This weekend, I want us to stay solid. Whatever this trip throw at us, we leave here still us on the same page.”
“I’m hearing great stuff.” The facilitator clapped. “I love it. Y’all feel that? That’s connection,” she continued walking around. I felt something alright. I was terrified that this exercise had me further falling for Hasheem.
“Okay, okay.” She laughed. “Last one, then I’ll let y’all knees rest. Whoever pulled the red circle, I want you facing forward. Partner comes up behind, hands on their waist. No running. No switching.” She laughed.
Hasheem stepped in behind me like it was nothing, big hands sliding to my waist, thumbs pressing just under the curve. His chest fit against my back, and my butt fit perfectly against him. I almost forgot how to inhale for a second.
“Hands relaxed,” the facilitator reminded us, moving through the circle. “Let your partner feel supported. Last prompt. I want you to both answer this one too.”
Hasheem looked down and read the prompt.
“With you, I never want to lose . . .”
Of course, that was the last prompt. Hasheem’s breath brushed my ear, and it took everything in me not to run.
“Speak what you feel,” he whispered in my ear.
“With you, I never want to lose . . .” I swallowed, staring straight ahead because if I turned my head even an inch, I’d be staring at him and I’d chicken out. “I never want to lose . . . this. Us being . . . us. You know? Joking . . . getting into trouble together . . . talking about everything . . . you being the first person I call when something happens. Good or bad. I don’t ever want that to go away.”
His fingers tightened at my waist, and for a second, he didn’t say anything. I could feel him thinking, chest rising and falling against my back, breath warm on the side of my neck.
“With you,” he said finally. “I never wanna lose you. You my best friend.” He went on, thumbs dragging slowly over my hips. “You’re the one I actually wanna call first, the one that knows meon my worst day and still talks to me like I’m that nigga. I lose that?” He exhaled. “Yeah . . . I’d be sick.”
My lungs forgot their job for a second, and my heart flooded with feelings I’d never thought I’d have for Hasheem. From the outside looking in, we probably looked perfect, but inside, my thoughts were sprinting laps.
