Page 85 of Body Language
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
Her silence said everything. I knew she was about to run straight to Niv with it, but fuck it. I wasn’t about to start explaining myself like some weak-ass nigga.
“What you need, Ty?” I asked, voice flat.
She hesitated, then said, “Niv told me to tell you… you can go. She’s got a ride home.”
That shit hit different. Like a sucker punch straight to the gut.
I clenched my jaw. “Aight.”
I looked back down at my phone.
My thumb moved without hesitation this time.
Bet. When?
I sat in my truck, engine off, seat reclined just enough to stay low, eyes locked on the front of GivGold like I wasn’t the one who built it.
She had Ty to come deliver a message. I already knew that was her way of saying “fuck you” without using her mouth.
My phone buzzed but I didn’t even look at it right away. I was too busy watching the door swing open.
She came out in that black lace robe over a barely-there bodysuit, walking like the damn ground should thank her for stepping on it. But it wasn’t just her. Her arm was linked with Sincere’s.
I shifted in my seat, watching them stroll toward his car like I wasn’t in the building twenty minutes ago, asking her to drop everyone else and choose me.
Choose me.
But nah.
She chose her moment. Her mood. Her little power play.
Sincere was soaking it up too, looking like he already knew how soft her moans sounded.
If my brothers were still around, this would’ve been a whole other scene. Kross would’ve popped off just outta loyalty. Kordai would’ve offered to handle it for me. Kairo probably would’ve pulled me to the side like,“You gone let that shit slide, bro?”
My phone buzzed again.
I’m home now. If you wanna come.
I stared at the message. Angel on one shoulder telling me to block her. Devil on the other grinning like,“Since she want to act single, act single.”
Niv slid into Sincere’s passenger seat like she wasn’t breaking every unspoken rule between us.
That was the final straw.
I unlocked my screen, hitReplyon Arlette’s text.
On the way.
By the time I pulled up to Arlette’s house, she was already outside leaned against the front door like she’d been rehearsing whatever she planned to say.
Her posture screamed “ready,” but her eyes… they were softer. Not wide with rage like usual. Just tired.
She opened the door without a word. I walked up slow, hands in my pockets, the weight of too much bullshit pressing on my back.
As soon as I stepped in, I said it straight.
