Page 84 of Body Language
His silence said he thought he’d just dropped a mic.
“Okay. Here’s the thing,” I said, tilting my head like I was explaining something simple to a stubborn child. “Kendrix… I am not your girlfriend. You’ve never made that a thing. Sooo, technically…” I drew the word out, dragging my nails lightly over his chest. “…I don’t have to do a damn thing you say.”
I stepped back, smirking at the flicker in his eyes. “I’m not telling you to cut your women off. All I’ve ever asked is that they stay respectful. Who am I to throw around demands when I don’t belong to you… and you don’t belong to me?”
I crossed my arms, every inch of me calm but sharp. “Let’s be clear, I can get a bag from anyone without ever opening my legs. So yes, there’s a list, baby. A list of men I could call rightnow, hold a simple ass conversation, and have a direct deposit hit before I finish my wine. That’s not me bragging. That’s me reminding you who the fuck I am.”
I leaned in, close enough to let my lips ghost his ear. “So unless you ready to make me yours for real… don’t throw around demands like you own MY place. I like you too, Kendrix. But without a title? You don’t have a say in shit I do, love.”
I pulled back with the sweetest smile, like I hadn’t just snatched the rug out from under him.
Kendrix’s eyes never leaving mine. “I can’t do this,” he said finally. “Not if I know there’s other niggas out here providing for you like I’m not enough.”
I blinked slow, then tilted my head.
“Then don’t,” I said simply. “Because I’m not risking security for romance. Cute dates and deep talks don’t keep lights on, Kendrix. Money does. Stability does.”
His jaw flexed, the muscle ticking like he was trying to keep his temper on a leash. “You didn’t want me fucking with Arlette.”
“And you right,” I cut in, my tone just as calm as it was cold. “Because she messed with my money and brought drama where I don’t allow it. Trust, if any nigga eventhoughtabout doing the same? He’d be dropped and worse. Don’t confuse him with her.”
He leaned closer, heat radiating off him. “So what, you just gone keep playing puppet master with other men’s pockets?”
I smiled. “See, that’s the difference, love. You never have to worry about me having a man like your Arlette.I don’t let any man think he’s bigger than the motherfucking program because I am the program.”
His nostrils flared, his chest rising like he was ready to argue, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to understand that not one syllable I’d said was up for negotiation.
He stared at me, eyes dark with a mix of anger and want, then finally let out a humorless laugh. He turned for the door.
“Say less,” he said before walking out the door without another word.
21
Kendrix
Niv was on stage, closing the night out. The crowd was screaming, bills flying in the air like confetti, and I swear every nigga in the place was drooling over her.
I sat back, trying my hardest not to even blink her way. I was pissed. Not the type of pissed you shake off after a drink. Nah. The kind that sat in your chest heavy, that made you want to punch a wall just so you ain’t say something you couldn’t take back.
I pulled out my phone, scrolling just to distract myself. Arlette’s name popped up.
I should’ve blocked her ass back after the last time. Should’ve done it weeks ago.
Can we talk?
I stared at it, thumb hovering, doing absolutely nothing.
On one shoulder, that little angel voice whispering,Don’t be stupid. Don’t text her back. You don’t even fuck with her like that.
But then the devil on the other shoulder grinned and said,So she can grind on niggas, let them throw money on her like you don’t got it, but you can’t even answer a damn text?
Before I could overthink it, the phone buzzed again.
Can we talk please?
I tilted the phone, staring at it like it might give me the answer.
I felt somebody watching me. I glanced up, and Ty was standing there. Not smiling. Not saying shit. Just looking at my phone.
