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Levin didn’t laugh.

I stared at him.

“I’m serious.”

“No you not.”

Before I could even get anymore words out, this nigga picked up his phone.

“Actually—”

He unlocked it, tapped around for a second, then turned the screen toward me.

“Since I already know you about to swear Sam would never.”

I looked down.

Security footage.

His house.

Thanksgiving and then my wife.

Standing in Levin’s kitchen.

Alone with him.

I watched Sam walk up to my brother.

Watched her put her hand against his chest.

Then watched my motherfucking wife lean up and kiss him.

I snatched the phone out his hand.

“What the FUCK?”

Levin took it right back.

“Ain’t shit sweet about Sam, my nigga.”

I looked at him and something in me snapped.

I stepped toward him.

Levin started chuckling.

That shit made me even hotter.

“Nigga, you think this shit funny?”

“A little bit.”

I moved closer.

He stood up.

Slow.