Page 33 of Body Language
“I mean… look at you.” He shrugged. “Why would I take you out the game when you the most entertaining thing I got going?”
I had to laugh, even though I tried not to. “You’re sick.”
“Only for you,” he said, grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing.
I leaned back, arms crossed. “So what you tryna lure me with, huh? Candy? A puppy? A fake Netflix password?”
“Nah,” he said, leaning closer. “Gas tank on full, music you gon’ like, and a man who drives with one hand.”
I blinked. “Mmm. Okay, Mr. Drive-With-One-Hand. You know that’s the national symbol for ‘I got good dick,’ right?”
“Exactly,” he said, not even blinking.
I shook my head, sipping my mimosa. “You’re too confident for me.”
He smiled slow. “And you too curious not to find out.”
I wasn’t supposed to get in his damn car. And yet, there I was, leaned back in the passenger seat, a blunt in my hand, R&B sliding through the speakers like the whole night had been curated by God Himself.
“Hit that again,” Kendrix said, his one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazy on his thigh.
I took a pull, exhaled slow, and looked at him sideways. “You know you the reason I’ma end up texting my bestfriend talking about, ‘I think I love this man.’”
He smirked, not looking away from the road. “Damn. That quick?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I said, passing the blunt back. “It’s just the weed talking”
He hit it, blew the smoke smooth out the corner of his mouth, then looked over at me. “Or maybe it’s the way I got you singing every word like you auditioning for my personal band.”
“Boy, shut up.” I laughed, but I didn’t stop singing. Summer Walker was pouring out the speakers, and the both of us were singing like we were the background vocals.
He shook his head. “This some simp-ass shit.”
“Facts,” I agreed, still laughing. “But I love it.”
“Nah, you love me,” he teased, giving me that side grin like he knew he had me.
I rolled my eyes, hiding my smile. “What the Fuck? You obviously don’t know who I am.”
He laughed so hard he almost missed the turn. “See, that’s that shit. You be talking crazy but got the nerve to blush when I look at you.”
“I ain’t blushing” I said quickly, flipping my hair. “That’s just the weed.”
“Mmhm.” He handed the blunt back, his fingers brushing mine slow on purpose.
I pulled on it just to keep from saying something stupid. The way my stomach flipped, I had to remind myself who I was. Niveah ‘Don’t-Fall-For-No-Nigga’. I been fine without ‘em and I could keep being fine. But damn. He smelled good. He made me laugh easily. And the way he gripped that steering wheel with one hand had my thighs damn near clapping.
He glanced over at me again. “What you thinkin’ about?”
I exhaled slow, passed the blunt back, and smirked. “You.”
He raised an eyebrow, that grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?”
“Don’t get cocky,” I teased, shifting in the seat. “I mean it in a way of… where does this whole connection take us?”
The way his jaw flexed when I said it had me second-guessing if I’d gone too far, but I have a reason for everything I do and say.
“Since you wanna be all deep and mental,” he said, “let me say this… when I lock in, I lock the fuck in. So keep that in mind, Pretty.”
