Page 137 of The Wright Man

"Damn near," Sticks said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it like he was auditioning for Bridgerton. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

Riq went in for a hug. "I'm a hugger," he said, making sure to glance at me like he was testing my patience on purpose.

"I'm an ass whooper," I muttered.

"Damn," he laughed, stepping back and putting both hands up. "Just being hospitable."

"Go be hospitable with the front desk before I help you meet God."

Angelica laughed so hard she snorted. "I like him," she said, looking at Riq. "We're gonna have to trade embarrassing stories about Maleek sometime."

Riq grinned like she handed him the winning lotto numbers. "It's a date."

Then the bastard leaned in and kissed her cheek before taking off in a jog, cackling when I lunged after him. He flipped me two middle fingers over his shoulder and ran straight back to where Nichelle was taking last-minute sign-ups.

I turned back to her, shaking my head. "You see what I deal with?"

"They're cute. Real family vibes." She looked around, eyes wide and full of pride. "You did good, Leek."

That settled something deep in my chest.

"Where do I make my membership payment?" she asked, looking around like she was serious.

I snorted. "Please. You already know your money's no good here... Plus, you'd sooner eat a dumbbell than lift one."

She gasped like I'd slapped her. "You don't know me, Wright! I could be turning over a new leaf. Entering my fitness baddie era."

I gave her a look that made her burst into laughter again, and for a second, it felt like we were back on her daddy's porch.

I told her we were winding down, but I'd love to give her a private tour if she gave me a couple minutes to wrap up.

She smiled and nodded. "Look at me, GhostFit VIP," she teased. "I'll be in your office. Try not to keep me waiting too long."

She disappeared down the hallway, that curly ponytail bouncing with every step, and I turned back toward the front desk, willing myself to focus long enough to close out the night.

But all I could think about?

Was her. In my space. Waiting.

"Bro," Riq started, eyebrows already in the clouds as I walked up to the front desk.

"Not now, Riq," I said, keeping my eyes on the last few names on our sign-up sheet, trying like hell to stay grounded.

"Fuck that. If not now, when?" he whisper-yelled like he had an ounce of discretion. "You got little miss five-five, brown, thick, and fine waiting for you in your office, and you still won't make a move?"

"She's married," I said flatly, more to myself than to him.

Riq snorted. "Shieeet. Her ring finger might say married, but her eyes were screamin', 'Take me, Maleek, I'm yours—with your angry, moody ass!'" He did a high-pitched falsetto and clutched his chest like he was auditioning for a soap opera.

Despite myself, I smiled. Brief. Barely-there. But it was real.

Sticks lumbered over, carrying kettlebells that had to be forged in hell, because who the fuck needed that much weight for a demo? He caught the last part and nodded like a preacher backing up a good word.

"Energy don't lie," he rumbled. "Whatever y'all got? It's loud, brother."

I shook my head, trying to drown it out. "The energy you're pickin' up on is called time. We've known each other since we were five. That bond—it's deep, yeah, but it ain't like that."

Lie. Big one. And both of them knew it.