Page 19 of Body Language
She blinked at me once. I expected something sweet. Cute. A little“just looking out”moment.
But no.
“You looked like you was either about to cry… or piss on yourself.”
She shrugged. “I help the needy.”
I choked on a laugh. Caught off guard, but in the best way. Most women try to flirt soft. Pretty. Passive. She threw punches and smiled while doing it. I liked that shit.
I leaned in closer. “You talk to all your heroes like that?”
She didn’t flinch. “You think you’re a hero because you finally stopped getting your ass handed to you?”
I raised a brow. “I think I’m the reason they built this private room for you to dance in and not have a GoFundMe link in your bio.”
She smiled, slow and wicked. “That the same mouth you use in business meetings?”
I grinned, “Nah, this the one I use to get women who think they’re immune to men like me.”
She laughed and didn’t cover her mouth or giggle all fake like most girls who want to be chosen. She just let the sound hit the air like she wasn’t afraid of shit.
Damn.
We stood there, quiet for a second, just looking. Her arms crossed. My drink in hand. Staring like we were both trying to figure out what the other person’s deal was.
I licked my lips out of instinct and caught her watching when I did.
She smiled. Real soft like“Careful. That’s the road to hell.”
And I was about to say something slick, probably inappropriate when Arlette burst through the door like the building was on fire.
“Y’all still in here?” she said, eyes bouncing between us like she’d walked in on something she didn’t exactly expect. “We got a whole damn club full of money waiting and y’all back here playing.”
She started to step away from me, but Arlette narrowed her eyes. Not at her, but at me. Like she just felt the shift in the room. She knew energy, and something wasn’t sitting right.
“MissCommunication, why are you still in here?” she asked, squinting. “You got another set in twenty, baby.”
“I was just heading out,” she said, straightening up and smoothing her robe.
I never took my eyes off her, so Arlette made sure to walk around me slow and placed her hand flat on my back—real familiar. Real marked territory.
It was light. But it was loud. And it pissed me the fuck off.
I stiffened. Let it linger just long enough for her to think it meant something, then stepped out of her reach like she had a bad scent.
She clocked it. Eyes narrowed. Jaw tight.
That little move back was me saying,Don’t pull that shit with me.
She looked at me like, “Really?” But didn’t say it.
Instead, she cleared her throat like she was still in control and said,
“MissCommunication, go get ready, please.”
Then turned back to me and smiled wide and fake.
“And give me and this fine-ass man of mine a little privacy.”
