Page 52 of Curvy Girl Summer

My mouth hung open for a moment. “You think they acted likethey didn’t have any sense before I agreed to meet them?” I asked incredulously.

“No, but I think you need help.”

“I don’t need help,” I balked.

He lifted his hands. “These dudes you keep linking with suggest otherwise.”

I felt called out. “Wow, okay, Ahmad.”

Leaning over the bar, he grabbed my arm. His fingertips seared my skin as soon as he gripped me. Even if I wanted to get up and walk away from him and those delicious-looking fries, I was rooted in place.

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” he said gently. “All I’m saying is come out with me and the fellas tomorrow night. Eight o’clock at Lava. We have a section under Ahmad Williamson.”

I pursed my lips, but I didn’t say no.

“I think you’d enjoy yourself,” he continued.

“Are you trying to set me up?”

“No.” His answer was firm, almost sharp.

“Because after what happened a few weeks ago, I’m not interested.”

“A night out with some real ones might help you.”

“I don’t need help,” I repeated with a little less conviction.

“Being around men who know how to act could help you spot the ones you need to leave alone. And maybe being around some real ones will help you loosen up so you’re not sitting over here with your shoulders hunched up.”

“My shoulders aren’t hunched up,” I argued.

He lifted his shoulders to his ears. “Looking ass,” he joked.

My head fell back as I laughed. “I can’t stand you!”

Ahmad ignored someone trying to get his attention as he responded. “But you know I’m right.”

“Whatever.”

“Prove me wrong at Lava tomorrow at eight.”

I nodded, but I didn’t verbally commit.

He smiled. “Your food is getting cold.” He walked off to take an order.

I put some sanitizer on my hands and then popped a fry in my mouth. “Mmm.”

I looked down at the thick-cut fries with the array of seasoning on them.

“Good, right?” Asia asked as she handed the couple next to me two beers.

“Hands down the best fries I’ve ever had,” I told her.

“I told you,” Ahmad said, overhearing our conversation as he carried a case of something behind Asia.

I watched his biceps flex under the weight of the case before jerking my eyes to his face. “You did say I’d like them,” I admitted slowly.

“Stick with me. I’m right about a lot of things.”

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