Page 63 of Body Language
That stunt Arlette pulled at the club was uncalled for. Niv had every right to be pissed. I knew she was probably looking at me sideways, like I couldn’t keep my house in order. And I’d be damned if she lumped me in with them weak-ass niggas who thrive off chaos and let their women war for sport.
That wasn’t me. And I wanted her to know that wasn’t me.
I was driving through quiet streets, headlights bouncing off houses until I hit hers. You could tell she’d picked it for her people, not herself. That right there made me respect her more. She wasn’t living for show. She was living for her siblings that she carried on her back every damn day.
I pulled up to the curb and just sat there for a second. That was the part where most men would back off, give her space, and wait for things to blow over.
But I wasn’t about to let her slip.
Pretty, you up?
Her reply came fast:
Nope. Just texting you telepathically in my sleep.
I smirked, shaking my head. Smart ass.
Come outside.
Couple minutes later, the door cracked open. Then she stepped out in sweats and a bonnet, looking like temptation dipped in cocoa and comfort. Damn. She was the only woman I knew who could look like that and still make a nigga wanna risk it all.
She folded her arms. “What do you want? I got Netflix waiting on me.”
I leaned on my truck, eyes running down her frame like I paid the mortgage on it. “How was your time last night?”
Her face softened for a second, then she sighed. “Really good. And even ended very well.”
The way she said it… calm, real, no performance. I had to tell myself not to read or think too deep into her response. Otherwise, I would’ve been ready to put a bullet in somebody for being a part of her “ended very well.”
I cleared my throat. “Look, Pretty… I like you.”
She tilted her head, that bonnet catching the porch light. “Kendrix, a lot of men like me. That’s nothing new. But I don’t give them my attention.”
She took a step closer. “So what do you have that sets you apart? Because I thought it was something… but when you had your bitch doing reckless shit, I realized you aren’t worth my attention.”
Then she turned back towards the door like I was already dismissed, but I followed her.
“Goodnight.”
“Wait.” My voice came out rougher than I planned. “Give me a minute to prove what makes me different.”
She turned back slow, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. “You got sixty seconds, Mr. Givelle.”
I nodded, pulled my phone out, scrolled to one contact that I’d just unblocked, and hit call.
“Hello?” Her voice popped up fast. Arlette.
Arlette picked up on the first ring, loud already.
“Arlette, listen to me and listen to be closely.”
Niv tilted her head like she didn’t expect that tone.
“Excuse me?!”
“You heard me. I just canceled every card you had tied to me. Every last one.”
Her breath hitched through the speaker. “What the fuck you mean—”
