Page 23 of Every Move You Make

Dell: Now you’re picturing me in a tight wrestling singlet, aren’t you?

Isaiah: I was not.

I was.

Dell has been growing on me these last couple of months. Well,burrowinginto me is more accurate. He seems to take my gruffness as a personal challenge to scrub away. As much as I tell myself it irritates me, the truth is, I look forward to seeing him every Monday afternoon for our training session. I look forward to his daily messages and his boyish charm. He makes me feel good even when he’s pushing me. And I know he’s supposed to watch my body, but it feels different sometimes. He doesn’t miss a single move I make. From the second I walk in the door to the moment I leave, his full attention is on me, and I’m starting to think maybe he’s watching me with the same down bad interest I have.

Because I am.

I’m down bad for Dell Breaux.

What started as a single butterfly I tried to ignore has blossomed into an entire garden of them. With every text and every smile, I found my trust for him growing, and in turn, my infatuation.

But now, I stare at his last message from tonight about our book, and there’s no reply. He usually responds quickly in the evenings, so it’s a little out of the ordinary. I guess it is Saturday. People usually have plans, especially in the summer.

Then I check on my other compulsion—my Robyn. She hasn’t posted anything today, so I do a cursoryfilter of her comments on the last eight or nine posts and report the harassing comments from my burner account. I’m sick and tired of these marriage proposals in her comment section.

No one proposes to my girl but me. I’ll make damn sure of it.

When I get to my last stop for the night, a dance club on Market Street, I check in with my employee Omar, who’s working the door, to make sure everything is good with him. Omar is one of my best employees, and I love him because he’s clueless when it comes to famous people. Not that Philly is crawling with hot celebs, but I’ve seen him turn away professional athletes. He’s hauled out high-powered lawyers and politicians. The man does not play.

Omar can identify any member of Philly or New Jersey’s crime families, though. That’s helpful.

He tells me it’s shaping up to be a busy night and he only has a few spots left before the club reaches capacity.

When1 I get inside, I perform a sweep of the perimeter before I check in with my bouncer who’s posted up near the DJ. But before I get to him, I stop dead in my tracks. Through the red and purple strobe lights reflecting off the mirrors and crowd of bodies, I spot the two people who consume my soul.

Robyn. Dell. Here. Together?

No, that can’t be right. Maybe they just met. I know Robyn comes here with her friends often, and I’m always working when she does. I usually know when she’ll be here ahead of time, and I’ll work ChaCha’s all night until she leaves.

And, okay, maybe I will follow her to make sure she gets home safely. I always make sure I blend in. She doesn’t know I work for this club or the other bars. She doesn’t know I routinely have people kicked out for eventouching her. All it takes is one quick comment to my security team, and that fucker is gone.

When Robyn is here, I make myself scarce and watch from a safe distance. I want her to have fun, but I want to protect her.

But why is Dell here? How did they meet? They’re drinking the same drink, and he’s looking at her like she’s…

She’smine, is what she is.

Dell covers his mouth, watching Robyn in fascination as she does the jerk on the dancefloor—well,tries.She’s wearing heels so it’s really awkward. Around them, everyone else is grinding and body-rolling. But not her. She dances to the beat of her own drum. She dances for herself. It’s not always pretty; in fact, it hardly ever is. I think most men find it intimidating, which is whyI love it. Women will compliment her and join in, but the men stay far away, except for those rare few who manage to step up. But like I said, the second they touch her, they’re fucking gone.

Downing the rest of his drink, Dell sets his plastic cup on a nearby ledge and does the same for her empty. When he comes back to her, his large hands steady her bare shoulders, and he fails to fight back his smile. Every fiber of my being wants to launch myself at him for touching her, but there’s an unexplained force holding me back.

Her brow furrows for a second as he leans in to say something in her ear. The music is blaring, so it’s the only way she’s going to hear him. When she pulls away, realization dawns on her face, and she nods happily before turning her back into his chest.

No, no, no.

She’s tall, but even in heels Dell is about four inches taller. His body cradles hers as they begin to grind against one another. His hands slowly slide down her silky dress, where he grips her swaying hips, and—oh god. Fifteen feet away from me, the two most beautiful people in the world arebasically fucking with their clothes on.

There are too many emotions coursing through my body. If someone tried to talk to me right now, I’d bite their head off just so they’d shut up. I can’t tell if I’m mad at him, or her, or both of them. If the blood rushing to my dick could fucking cool it, maybe I could think straight.

Fuck me, they’re hot together. Dell looks like a sexy urban cowboy with those damn boots and dark jeans. Robyn is wearing her signature sleek look that makes me want to kiss her feet. Only now, she’s wearing a tattooed man around her like a jacket.

Once again, Dell leans down to say something in her ear and even through the dark room and strobe lights, his devilish smirk sends a jolt to my cock. One of his hands snakes up to her neck, stroking her jawline while she arches into him deeper. Her eyes close like she’s surrendering herself, and I still can’t move a muscle except the one that ticks in my jaw and throbs in my pants.

When the song transitions into the next one, Dell whispers in her ear and points to the bar. She nods.

1.Somebody's Watching Me Remixby Rockwell & Syzz

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