Richmond Boys.

Seven.

It had been about two weeks since me and Remy first start fooling around and shit was getting intense quick. We ain't cross the line and have sex yet, but we was going at it in any way we could. Even more than that, I was really digging Remy.

The man knew how to drive me in-fucking-sane and then be the same one to put me back together and make everything okay again. I talked to him and told him more than I'd told anyone in a long ass time, he told me shit about his own life, he made me laugh like crazy, and the nigga was sexy.

He was a straight-up vixen.

I ain't never had to handle anything like Remy and even now I still wasn't sure if I'd be able to, but I knew I wanted to at least try for as long as I could. He'd made it clear that he didn't need me. Time and time again he reminded me that he wasn't good for me and warned me not to get too attached or start expecting things from him. I, being the attached nigga that I already was, didn't get it.

Did he really not need me or did he just not want me? And what did he mean he was bad for me? Wasn't no way Remy could be bad for me unless falling in love was a bad thing.

Oh shit.

That was a big ass statement right there. Was this love? In all twenty-two years of my life I'd never been in love with anyone and I wasn't naive enough to think I'd been close to falling in love either. I'd been in relationships before and I'd really liked people but the whole 'waking up with you on my mind', 'missing you when you're away' 'wanting to be by you even when you're mad'....

Nah, that didn't happen in the hood I grew up in. When people was getting shot at over petty beef or your homeboy was getting locked up just cuz he was black and in the wrong place at the wrong time- there wasn't time for silly shit like romance and flowers and love.

I wanted someone to feel for me with none of that extra bullshit required. No flowers, no chocolate, no need to brag on social media or show off no immature ass stunt just to look good. Through sickness and health was for real vows for me and I just had never met anyone who I valued on that level outside of my family.

And yet I knew for a fact I'd let Remy under my skin.

And fuck I don't even know why. It was like one moment he was just my roommate and the next he was like a parasite sucking every bit of my time and energy up. Maybe it was because as easy as he was sexually, getting close to him was a lot harder to do. Remy had walls and the more we stayed up late and talking and the more I tore walls down slowly, the more I wanted to protect what was hiding behind them. It could have also been because he was such a secret hardass when he wanted to be too. For some reason, Remy had a knack of putting me in my place and I liked it. I liked when he got bossy and I liked it even more when he was sweet and rewarding- and he was sweet and rewarding more than anything else.

And, obviously, it helped that he was a guy.

I still considered myself bisexual and attracted to women too, but for my first anything with a man, this was a pretty good experience. He understood my perspective better, got what I was saying even when I fucked it up and said it wrong, liked more of the same things I liked, and fuck if he ain't know all the sensitive spots on a niggas body.

Fuck, my ass could be feeling for him so heavy based on his head skill alone.

Whatever it was, I ain't even care. The point was I happier than I had been in a long ass time and the happier I got, the more frustrated I got. Remy had told me once when we was lying on the couch together that he couldn't be my man because he had other obligations.

It made me think bout what Marcus and Kevin had said about some nigga in prison Remy was or used to be dating. Whoever the fuck he was, I obviously didn't like him. I didn't know if that was what Remy meant and why he kept trying to turn our feelings into some casual fucking, but all I could hope was that, whoever he was, he wouldn't come back.