Page 6 of Body Language
“About to run to the bank,” I lied. “Gotta get some cash out. My sister’s nanny has been holding us down, and I couldn’t pay her last week.”
Another pause on his end. Then, like clockwork—
“You should’ve said something. I’ll wire something now. What’s her name?”
My smile was slow and smooth.
“Mine.”
He laughed. “Say less. Check your account in ten.”
And just like that, rent, utilities, a new perfume, and brunch with my bestfriend Ty was handled. From a conversation. No panties removed. No moans performed. Just a mouth and a man who hadn’t been listened to in too long.
“When can I see you again?” he asked.
I slid my feet into gold slide-ins and glanced at the phone.
“Soon,” I said, then smirked. “We’ll talk.”
Translation? On my time. Never his.
“NIIIIIV!” my brother called from the hallway. “You said we were leaving twenty minutes ago!”
Thank you, God. Saved by the kids.
“Sorry, baby,” I said quickly, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. “My babies are calling. Duty calls.”
“Aight,” he said, reluctant. “You gon’ hit me later?”
“Mhm. We’ll talk.”
Click.
I tucked my phone into my purse and stepped out into the hallway where my brother stood, all 6’2” of him leaning against the wall with an attitude.
I walked straight up and kissed him on the cheek.
“Man, what the hell—”
“You used to suck your thumb and piss on yourself,” I smirked, pushing past him. “And I was the one changing your little pamper with your tiny penis. Don’t ever act too grown for my kisses.”
“Yo, stop. Nah, forreal,” he groaned, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “You gotta chill.”
I laughed, grabbing my keys off the side table. “You ready?”
“Yeah. I’m headin’ to the car now.”
“Okay,” I nodded, glancing at the time. “Ima run in the kitchen to see Heidi real quick and then I’m comin’.”
“Aight. Bet.” He opened the front door and walked out, his tall frame moving like he knew he had a little muscle now. I watched him for a second, heart heavy and full.
He used to barely reach my hip. Now he was taller than me, voice deep, thinking he grown.
We came so far.
I walked into the kitchen and was hit with the scent of cinnamon and warm toast. Rita stood at the sink, hands deep in soap bubbles, cleaning the dishes from breakfast. Her hair was wrapped up in a scarf, and she was humming the same song she always sang when she was in a good mood.
“Buenos días, hermosa,” I called.
