Page 26 of Body Language
“Well,” she said. “Looks like you have other responsibilities.”
And just like that, she turned and walked off toward her car, hips swaying like she knew they were the last thing I’d be dreaming about tonight.
I was so fucking pissed, I could feel my blood pressure in my teeth. Arlette wasn’t drunk. She was jealous. And I was two seconds from forgetting every ounce of home training and making her feel that shit.
She pressed her body up against me like I was supposed to melt.
“I told you to stop doing that shit,” I said, stepping back like her presence was contagious.
She blinked, confused. “I told you I wanna get back together. Look how good the club did tonight. That’s us, baby. We could be Antionette’s next power couple like Jay and Bey.”
She slid in closer, kissed my neck like the shit still worked. “I’m horny too. You know no one can make me cum like you.”
I wiped her kiss off like it was bad news. “Too bad. Go masturbate to our memories.”
She blinked fast, lips parting like I just hit her with a frying pan.
“Chill the fuck out, Arlette,” I said, real calm but loud. “You not my girl. Stop poppin’ up every time you see me with a woman like this is your dick. It isn’t.”
She crossed her arms like a toddler in time out. “Wow. So you tryna talk to a bottom-of-the-barrel-ass bitch? A pole-dancin’ nobody?”
“Bottom of the barrel?” I stepped in closer, eyes locked. “Arlette, you were the barrel. Full of expired ass and delusions.”
Her jaw dropped.
“And let’s get this straight while we’re on topic,” I added. “You’re not competition. You’re not even a consideration.”
I started to walk to my truck, but stopped and turned back one more time.
“Oh, and cut that ‘go home’ bullshit,” I said laughing. “We never lived together. You just had a drawer and a dream.”
“Whatever, Kendrix! You gone want this again. And when you do, I’ll be unavailable.”
I opened my truck door, climbed in, and rolled the window down.
“Unavailable?” I smirked. “Perfect. Be unavailable, undelivered, uninstalled. I don’t give a fuck. Just be gone.”
By the time I made it home, it was already past four.
The silence hit me like a wave. Just me, the marble floors, and a whole lot of damn space I didn’t feel like being in.
I kicked off my shoes and unbuttoned my shirt while I walked through the kitchen, thinking I’d grab some of the leftover lamb chops my chef made earlier. I didn’t even have the energy to reheat.
I opened the fridge, looked at ‘em, and closed that shit. I went and pulled out some dog food instead. At least somebody was eating tonight.
“Come eat, Pharaoh,” I called out.
He came running in like he owned the place. He ate. I watched. Then I gave him a pat on the head and took my tired ass upstairs.
I loved my house. Paid for every brick in full. But I ain’t gonna lie, I was a little delulu when I bought it. Too much space, too many rooms. That’s why I stayed at my clubs so much.
I only wanted one person there with me. The woman who danced without speaking, warned me without words, and got my attention without even trying.
When I finally laid down, the cool silk sheets didn’t even comfort me like they usually did. All I could think about was that damn card she gave me. I reached over to my nightstand, grabbed it, and scanned it with my phone.
It pulled up a photo of her looking fine as hell and underneath it were her social handles, a business number, and an email.
Damn.
