Page 38 of Body Language
“Only to people who try to waste my time.”
That made her laugh, a quick sharp one. “Good answer.” She leaned in slightly. “You’re a pretty girl. But pretty don’t last long if it’s all you bringing. So I’ll ask plain: what’s your endgame?”
I didn’t blink. “My family. My little brother. My baby sister. They’ve been my world since the day my mama stopped showing up for hers. I don’t need a man to save me. I save myself and them. But I’m not dumb enough to think I can’t build more if I got the right person by my side.”
For a second, she just looked at me. And in that pause, I swear I saw a sign of respect.
“You know,” she said softly, “most girls sit in that chair and tell me what they think I want to hear. You said what I needed to hear.”
I smirked. “I don’t lie. I may not tell the whole truth, but I never lie.”
That earned me a full smile. “Mhm. Sharp.”
I leaned in a little, matching her tone. “Sharp enough that your son better be ready.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “I like that.” She picked her cup back up and sipped. “Don’t break his heart, and don’t let him break yours.”
I smiled slow. “Don’t worry.”
“So you dance?” she asked.
I didn’t blink. “I do. Ballet was first. Pole came later. People assume that makes me less, but it’s the opposite. It made me more.”
“That’s bold.”
I tilted my head. “Only looks bold when you watching from the sidelines. When you living it, it’s survival.”
Her brows rose slightly. “Mhm. You talk like you know exactly who you are.”
“Because I do,” I shot back. “And I don’t need anyone’s permission to be her.”
“Careful, baby. Men like my son love a woman who knows herself. But they’ll test if you can keep knowing yourself once they’re in the picture.”
I smirked. “Then it’s his test to fail, not mine.”
She studied me for a long second, like she was peeling my skin back just to see what I was made of.
“You remind me of myself when I was your age. Full of fire. And let me tell you something, the moment I stopped pouring all of me into everyone else and started pouring into myself first?” She tapped the rim of her teacup for emphasis. “That’s when my marriage turned. That’s when my husband stopped running my world and started eating out of my hand.”
I raised a brow. “Sounds like power to me.”
“Damn right it is,” she said smoothly. “And don’t let anybody tell you different. But—” Her eyes sharpened like a knife. “I love my son. He’s a good man with a good heart. If you ever break that heart intentionally, I will come for you myself. And I don’t fight fair.”
Instead of flinching, I leaned forward, a slow grin pulling at my lips. “Good. Because I don’t fight fair, either. So I guess we’ll never have to find out what that means.”
She stared. Then… she laughed.
“Just promise me something, baby girl.”
I nodded once. “What’s that?”
“Don’t lose yourself. My son is strong and steady, yes. But men like him can be consuming. You forget to feed yourself, you’ll starve while feeding him. And then you’ll resent him for a hunger you created yourself.”
That one cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I swallowed, kept my eyes on hers, and said, “Don’t worry. I never forget to eat.”
“Good answer.”
The door clicked open behind me. Just as Kendrix stepped back into the sunroom, his mama leaned forward one last time.
