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“Levin—”

“Shhh.”

She covered her own mouth, shoulders shaking because now she was trying not to laugh again.

This woman was fucking ridiculous.

And I’d been fucking her since Thanksgiving.

Not no once here.

Twice there.

Nah.

We was fucking.

Regularly.

Some days twice.

Some days three times.

Before work.

After work.

At my house.

At her house once when Xay wasn’t there, which was bold as fuck even for me.

And Sundays?

Sundays belonged to me.

Xay had gotten comfortable going to Freckles to gamble on Sundays because Sam was usually off.

That nigga would leave his wife home thinking she was relaxing with the kids.

Meanwhile, once I knew everybody was situated, I’d find a way to get Samantha to myself.

Sometimes we fucked.

Sometimes we ate.

Usually both.

Tyler told me I wasn’t shit.

Repeatedly.

Said I was still fucking with Sam’s head just to get back at Xay.

Maybe I was.

Didn’t change the fact hanging with her was fun as hell.

Sam could talk shit with the best of them.