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I stared back.

Then he bent down.

“That’s what I thought.”

“See, this why I ain’t moving in with your ass.”

I laughed.

“Who invited you?”

“Serenity.”

“She can’t talk.”

“She texted me.”

“Get out.”

He laughed.

We’d gotten better.

Whatever we were.

Levin had finally stopped asking me to define it.

Thank God.

Cornell hadn’t lasted.

Nice man.

Good-looking.

Good job.

We just didn’t have enough there.

After him came Prince.

And yes, that was really his fucking name.

Levin hated that nigga’s name before he even met him.

“You dating a nigga named Prince?”

“That’s his name.”

“That ain’t no grown man’s name.”

“Says the nigga named Levin.”

“That is completely different.”

It wasn’t.

Prince and I had gone out a few times.