Page 86 of Curvy Girl Summer

“What woman?”

I shook my head. I really didn’t feel like going through the incident with the backhanded compliment. “Just someone at the bar that rubbed me the wrong way. But what did you want to meet up about? It can’t be this.”

“It was exactly this.”

Surprised, I sputtered. “What? Why?”

“I didn’t like the way you looked when you left on Friday,” he answered. “I know you can take care of yourself, but I always keep my eye on you while you’re at the bar. Even when it’s too loud for me to hear your conversations, I try to keep tabs on the body language.”

“So now you’re a body language expert?”

“Nah, but I can read your body language.”

“What’s it saying now?”

My insides tingled as a slow smile crossed his lips. He strokedhis chin as if he were contemplating. My narrowed eyes softened, and my cheeks felt flushed. I shifted my gaze and folded my arms across my chest.

The last thing I wanted him to do was read me.

“You’re guarded,” he answered. “You tensed up on me the minute I asked.”

I lightly cleared my throat and tried to relax. He was absolutely right.

“But it was your body language on Friday that made me want to check on you,” he continued. “Are you good? For real?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because you looked… stressed.”

“I wouldn’t say I was stressed.”

“Well, what would you say? Because you took off before I could really ask you anything.”

“I told you—the guy I was with said some slick shit, and I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, I got that. But you’ve had bad dates before, and you didn’t take off. And I’m gonna be honest… I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I wasn’t upset… I was more annoyed than anything.”

“Well, upset, annoyed, stressed, whatever the fuck it was, it wasn’t good.” He sat up, resting his elbows on the table. “So, are you ready to take my advice now?”

I sighed loudly. “Fine, Ahmad. What is your advice?”

He picked up a small box and slid it across the table. That was the first moment I noticed that he wasn’t wearing his wedding band.

“Take this,” he encouraged.

Eyeing the small white box suspiciously, I ran my fingers over the pointy edges. It looked like it could perfectly fit a bracelet or earrings. But Ahmad wouldn’t be getting me jewelry. There was no logo to give me a hint, so I had no idea what it could be.

I glanced up at him. “What is this?”

“Open it,” he insisted. His brown eyes sparkled, and his perfect lips spread into an endearing smile.

Tearing my eyes away from him, I broke the seal and lifted the lid.

It looks like something a spy would use.

My eyes flicked up to his. “What’s this?”

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