Page 35 of Gang of Roses: Rebel

“So you just out here kissing bitches you swear are ‘just your best friend?” she snapped, mugging me so hard you’d have thought I’d stolen her man instead of getting caught up in a damn Kiss Cam.

Shameka’s eyes slowly dragged me from head to toe before settling back on my face, daring me to say something.

I folded my arms. “You talking to me, or him?”

“You,” she said, pointing a manicured finger in my face like she was trying to scare somebody. She puffed out her chest, squared her shoulders, and put on the toughest face she could manage.

She wasn’t intimidating me.

I let out a dry laugh. “You better take your ass on before I beat your ass. Matter of fact, I’ll make you dig your own grave.”

I took one slow step toward her until there was barely any space between us.

“I ain’t the one to play with. So unless you want to make Crow a single father today... jump stupid.”

For the first time since she’d walked over, the attitude on her face cracked.

“See? I knew you was fucking this bitch.”

Crow’s jaw tightened. “Watch your mouth, Shameka. She isn’t a bitch.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes locked on me.

“Is that why we didn’t work out? Because I don’t dress like a nigga?” Shameka was trying to be funny.

I looked down at my oversized Warriors jersey, cargo pants, and Timbs before looking back at her. A slow smile spread across my face.

“Nah,” I said.

She frowned.

“Nah what?”

“I don’t think your wardrobe was the problem.”

Her friend sucked her teeth.

“You got a slick mouth.”

“I’ve been told.”

Crow stepped between us. “Aight. That’s enough.”

I lightly touched his arm. “Nah, Crow. She asked a question.”

My eyes found Shameka’s again. “If you wanna know why y’all didn’t work out, you should probably ask the man you had a relationship with. And for the record, I look good as hell dressed like this.”

Crow couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. “Rain...”

“What?” I asked innocently. “I was answering her question.”

“Girl, for somebody dressed like a nigga, you sure got a lot of mouth,” her friend said, folding her arms.

I looked her up and down before letting my eyes settle on her face. “Says the chick who look like a British bulldog in the face.”

While Crow snorted, trying to hide a laugh, I smirked. That only pissed her off more. Even Shameka had to cover her mouth to hide a laugh, but her friend wasn’t amused. She stepped toward me, jabbing a finger in my face like she was trying to prove something.

“You think you funny?” the chick said, snaking her neck.