Sincere Bellamy
Ever since that first meeting with Rhythm, I couldn’t get her off my mind.
It didn’t make sense. I had just gotten out of a relationship that could have broke me if I was a weak nigga.
I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about another woman.
I wasn’t supposed to be interested in anything that even looked like a relationship.
I was supposed to be focused on work and making sure I never let my heart get played that reckless again.
But Rhythm had an aura that stuck with me. She was soft, but not weak. She was pretty in a way that didn’t beg for attention but still stole it, and her energy felt pure. She wasn’t trying to prove anything. She was just being herself, and you either respected it or moved around.
I kept telling myself it was curiosity, a lot of lust, and a little intrigue because she was different from what I was used to. Then I caught myself checking her page like I was thirteen. When she posted a story that night and tagged her location at a bar in her neighborhood, I decided to pull up.
I should’ve been embarrassed by the way that I was stalking this girl.
But I needed to see her outside of business to tell whether what I felt was real or if I was just lusting after a beautiful girl.
I wasn’t going to cross any professional boundaries.
I just needed to be around her. So, I drove to the South Side, parked a block away, and sat in my car for a second, questioning my own sanity.
This was stalkerish and thirsty.
And I was still getting out my ride.
Inside the bar, I scanned the room and found her immediately. Rhythm sat at the bar with another woman. I stood there for a second too long, just watching her smile and wishing I could put that smile on her face every day.
I walked up and tried to play it off, “Rhythm?”
She turned her head, and her eyes widened. “Sincere? Wh-What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area. I was at the development site with some contractors and decided to pop in and have a drink before I head to the crib.”
She blinked. “You were at the development site this late?”
I shrugged. “Our business doesn’t have set hours.”
She nodded slowly, buying it. The woman next to her had been quiet this whole time, but I saw her looking at me out of the corner of my eye.
She was giving me a full-on inspection. When I glanced at her directly, she didn’t even try to hide that she liked what she saw and was impressed.
Rhythm saw it too. Her lips twitched like she was trying not to laugh.
“This is my friend, Joi,” Rhythm introduced, gesturing between us. “Joi, this is Sincere.”
Joi’s eyebrows lifted dramatically, and she smiled. “Oh, this is Sincere.”
Rhythm shot her a look. “Joi.”
“What?” she asked innocently. “I’m just saying. You said he was fine, but damn.”
I felt Rhythm’s embarrassment from the way her body froze, and I held back a laugh.
Then I nodded toward the empty stool on the other side of her. “Can I sit with y’all?”
Suddenly, I saw Rhythm get a bit nervous, then she swallowed it back. “S-sure.” Then she nodded toward the open stool on her other side.
I slid onto the stool, and the bartender came over. I ordered a drink, then faced Rhythm.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she blushed.
“Your smile. You’re having a good time. It looks good on you.”
Rhythm let out a small laugh. “Is that your way of saying I looked stressed when we met?”
I chuckled. “Very stressed.”
She giggled shamefully. “That meeting was a lot. It was good, but it was a lot of information coming at me at once.”
Nodding, I told her, “I feel that. But I hope I made it easier for you at the end.”
“Oh, you did. You were great. I have a much better understanding now.”
“How you feeling about the show coming up?”
Rhythm’s head slightly tilted to the side. “I thought you came in here to have a drink. You’re still working.”
I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a safe topic of conversation.”
Her brows curled. “Safe?”
“I’m trying to behave. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She looked down at her glass, then back up at me. “You don’t have to be timid with me. I’m a big girl.”
I held her gaze a second too long, and the hair on the back of my neck stood at attention.
So did my dick.
I caught her watching me with a faint, knowing smile. Her cheeks pinked just a little, and I let out a quiet laugh under my breath, trying not to blush like a girl.
Joi made a little noise beside her, like we had forgotten she existed. Rhythm didn’t look over. Neither did I. The moment felt like the two of us had stepped into a room alone without moving.
Rhythm turned her body slightly toward me. “Well, since you prefer to talk about work, what made you sponsor Mothers of the Block?”
“Aria spoke so highly of it, I really couldn’t say no.
I liked the way she talked about your work.
She stood on it. That made me want to stand on it too.
Then when I did my research on you, I liked how passionate you are about your work.
Someone with your talent shouldn’t go unnoticed and deserves the spotlight. ”
She started to stare at me. Not a gaze though, like she was trying to figure me out.
“What?” I asked.
“Most men don’t talk like you.”
“I’m not most men.”
Rhythm looked like she might melt for a second, then she blinked and pulled herself back together. “You’re a very confident man, Sincere.”
I shrugged cooly. “Only when I’m sure.”
She slightly rolled her eyes in amusement and then challenged me. “What else are you sure about?”
I should have redirected. I should have made it professional again. Instead, I told the truth. “I’m sure I like being around you, and I’m trying to keep that from turning into something that complicates our professional relationship.”
Rhythm held my gaze and a warm feeling ran through my veins.
She didn’t look away right away, like she was fighting the urge to fall for me, then she blinked and found her composure.
“I appreciate that. I am really excited about working with Aria, and I wouldn’t want anything to make this opportunity complicated. ”
I nodded, once, hating that I was in agreement.
We talked for a while after that. When Rhythm started telling me about her art, I got lost in how passionate she was about it.
She said she’d been painting since she was a little girl, back when she didn’t have words for everything she felt.
When most kids were outside playing, she was in the house with a pencil, crayons, whatever she could get her hands on, drawing, painting.
She said it was how she expressed herself, like her diary.
As she talked, her face lit up. Her hands started moving animatedly, and she got so excited.
I just watched her, enjoying the view because I was witnessing real passion. It was a turn on that she had something that she cared about so deeply.
I found myself grinning.
“What?” she asked, catching it.
“I said, still looking at her. “I just like hearing you talk about your work.”
The bartender slid another drink toward her, and she didn’t even notice at first. Her attention stayed on me and mine stayed on her.
I kept telling myself to keep it professional.
I didn’t trust my judgment like that anymore.
I didn’t want to make the wrong decision again, not at the expense of somebody else.
Rhythm had too much to lose in this. This wasn’t just a little pop-up show, and Aria was genuinely excited about Rhythm’s work.
The opportunities that could come from this were big, and I didn’t want to be the reason anything got complicated or messy.
So, I didn’t say what was on my mind.
But real chemistry didn’t need either of us to acknowledge it for it to take control.
We talked like we had known each other longer than we had. The conversation bounced from music to childhood stories. She made fun of my “work voice,” and I called her out for always doubting how dope her work is.
But no matter how hard I tried not to cross that line, I already knew I was in trouble.
I didn’t know how the hell I was going to keep it professional, because I wanted her.
And worse, I liked her enough that I wanted her to win more than I wanted to risk ruining the opportunities that were finally coming for her.