Page 41 of Gang of Roses: Rebel

“Domingo means Sunday,” I said, shaking my head. “You really based your whole last name around the day that nigga left.”

“Damn right. If he could walk out on us, I could walk away from his last name.”

I stared at him for a second. “Petty.”

“Extremely.”

“But you kept his curls.”

Crow immediately ran a hand over his hair. “Hell yeah. I wasn’t throwing away perfectly good genetics just because the nigga attached to ‘em ain’t shit.”

I grabbed one of my locs and held it up. “Ain’t nobody worried about them little Shirley Temple curls.”

Crow’s mouth dropped open. “Shirley Temple is crazy, Rain.”

I cracked the fuck up.

“Keep laughing,” he warned. “You walked in here wearing one little dress and forgot how to act.”

“One little dress?”

“Yeah.” His eyes traveled down my body again. “A dangerous-ass little dress, but still.”

I shook my head. “You’re annoying.”

“And you beautiful.”

That shut me up as Crow’s grin widened when he realized he’d caught me off guard.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning closer. “Got your ass.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later, if you keep walking around looking like that.”

My mouth dropped open. “Crow!”

He laughed when I smacked his arm.

“I’m playing, Rain.”

“You better be.”

His eyes dropped to my dress one more time before coming back to mine.

“Mostly.”

I rolled my eyes and started walking away from him.

“Where you going?” he called after me.

“Away from your pretty ass.”

“You can run, Rain, but that dress already did the damage.”

I lifted my middle finger without turning around. Crow’s laugh followed me, and even with my back to him, I could feel that nigga still staring. And for some strange-ass reason, I didn’t mind.

After we finished clowning around, Crow and I went to find his mother. Mama Joyce wasn’t my biological mother, but I’d been calling her that since I was a kid. Crow and I had been best friends for so long that somewhere along the way, his mama had become mine too.