I rolled my eyes and dropped the product bag on the little massage table. I refused to answer that. Instead, I gave the room my full attention.This is a lot.I glanced around the dimly lit room. There was a massage table in the middle of the space wide enough to be a whole twin-sized bed draped in white linens. There were little bowls of rose petals all around and a few dimly lit candles. This whole setup screamed they wanted us to do more than try out some massage oils.
“I’ll um . . .” I busied myself unpacking the bag, lining the bottles up like I was doing inventory instead of dodging eye contact. “I’m gonna set up my camera real quick so we can just . . . get this content and be done.”
“Say less.” Hasheem stepped to the other side of the table, giving me way more space than the room even had. I pulled out my little tripod, angled my phone toward the table, and checked the framing twice, just to avoid looking at him. We moved around each other carefully and stiff, and it was infuriating me.
“You volunteering to lay down first, or you want me to go?” I asked.
“You might as well go,” he said, shrugging. “Ladies first. Plus, if I lay down, I’m going to sleep.”
“That’s fair.” I walked back to the table, fingers already fumbling with the tie of my swimsuit top under my cover-up. “I’m not getting naked. Just enough skin so the massage looks real on video.”
“Ain’t nobody ask you to be naked,” he said quickly, gaze snapping to the ceiling. “Do whatever you comfortable with.”
That was the problem. I didn’t know what “comfortable” even meant with him anymore. I slid my cover-up off and folded it over a chair, keeping my back to him while I untied my bikini top. I held it in place with one hand as I climbed onto the table, laying on my back.
“Is this okay?” I tossed over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” he replied. “Do your little intro.”
I tapped the button on my phone that turned the tripod on. My camera was recording.
“Hey, Harlings.” I rolled my head toward the camera and pasted on my soft influencer smile. “It’s Harlowe, and we’re trying out Duality’s new massage oils today. Y’all know I had to drag my favorite firefighter along to help.” I threw a lazy wave back toward him. “We’re gonna test a couple of scents, so let’s get into it.” I nodded at him. “Okay. Go ahead.”
He poured the first oil down my back, and a fresh vanilla scent filled the air. Then his hands carefully touched my shoulders. He slid his hands down my back in long, slow strokes, but it felt like he was scared to really touch me.
“You can actually press, you know?” I said into the table. “It does need to look believable.”
He didn’t say anything. His hands stilled for half a second, then started moving again. He was still being careful.
“Relax, Harlowe.”
“I am relaxed.”
He snorted. “Your shoulders damn near touching your ears. That’s not relaxed.”
“Is this how it’s gonna be now?” An annoyed laugh slipped out of me.
“What you mean?” he asked, fingers coasting down my spine.
“This.” I waved my finger between us. “Us moving around each other all awkwardly and stuff. Is that what our friendship is going to be like now?”
“I’m just trying not to make you uncomfortable,” he shot back. “You the one who been breathing all hard and acting standoffish since last night.”
“Because this is . . .” I pushed up off the table and sat up, one arm clamped across my chest to keep my top in place. “This is messy, Hasheem. We cannot have feelings for each other. Wecan’t like each other. We definitely can’t be doing anything with each other. I dated your brother for years! You proposed to my friend. More importantly, you are my best friend. You’re my safe person. If this goes left, I lose you. I don’t want that.”
He stared at me, eyes dark, chest rising a little faster as he stepped between my knees at the edge of the table. His hands slid to my hips.
“Hasheem,” I warned, my fingers curling into the table.
“Yeah, it’s messy,” he said. His hand came up, and his thumb brushed my jaw, turning my face up to his. “But I’m not about to let old shit and old people decide what I get to feel about you.”
My heart was pounding out of my chest. I couldn’t even look him dead in the face. I was too terrified that I might jump up and kiss him. Maybe I’d been in love with Hasheem for a long time and just kept calling it something else.
“I want you as more than a friend, Harlowe Daye.”
Heat crawled up my neck.
“Don’t say stuff like that?—”
