Page 18 of Eat Slay Love

On art.

On passion.

Is he looking at. . .me?

I slyly turned away, knowing I’d already gawked over him long enough. I did a quick check around me and only saw the black wall.

However, I could still feel his bold gaze on me.

Why is he staring like that? Have you never seen a Black woman before?

A little bit of anxiety seized me.

Relax.

I breathed in and out.

You’re just. . .freaking out because he’s fine as hell and watching YOU.

For God’s sake, he was the type of man I'd want to intimacy coordinate on a set. Someone so devastatingly gorgeous that I wouldn’t hesitate to adjust his modesty patch, to smooth my hands over his cock in a perfectly professional manner—while swallowing the heat curling at the edges of my composure.

Keep it cool. Hey. . .you do look gorgeous as well. If I were a man, I would stare at me too. . .right?

If Laila had been here, she would have made a damn scene.

She wouldn’t have let me stand here overthinking this moment, wouldn’t have let me drown in the quicksand of my own self-doubt while a man that fine was burning holes into my soul with his gaze.

No way.

Laila would have let the entire room know that I was single.

Loudly.

She would have waved him over like she was conducting air traffic control at JFK, grinning from ear to ear, snapping her fingers like a damn Cupid in designer heels.

"Eh, you! Yes, you! She’s single! Come get her number!"

Hell, she might not have even bothered waiting for him. She probably would have just started yelling my number out herself, or even worse, gotten it directly from my phone and handed it over like a gift-wrapped invitation to my thighs.

That thought alone almost made me laugh out loud.

Instead, my clutch buzzed in my hand.

I reached inside, fishing for my phone, knowing it could only beoneperson.

Laila.

And I was correct.

I read the text.

Laila:I checked your LinkedIn and didn’t see the picture. Give me your username and password so I can hook you up.

I grinned.

You are relentless.

I typed back quickly.

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