Rain “Rebel” Crawford
Most people believed men and women couldn’t be platonic, but with Crow, that shit was simple.
We chilled together, gave each other relationship advice, talked about life, and always had each other’s backs.
To those looking in, our friendship didn’t make sense.
They were convinced there had to be more to it, but we never paid them any mind.
That’s why I enjoyed spending time with him.
We were homies, and it never felt complicated.
So, when he asked me to go to a basketball game, I canceled the date I had with some nigga without thinking twice.
I stood in front of the ironing board with nothing on, but a towel wrapped around my body, running a hot iron across my fitted Warriors jersey.
Steam hissed with every pass as I glanced over at the clock.
“Shit,” I mumbled.
I was running behind. But Crow should’ve been used to that shit by now. Still, it never stopped him from running his mouth about it. Before I could press the last wrinkle out of my jersey, I heard the familiar rumble of Crow’s truck pulling into my driveway next to my motorcycle.
A few seconds later, he started knocking on my door like he was the damn police.
Usually, he waited for my slow ass to come outside, so I figured something had to be wrong.
Although I didn’t care about him coming into my place, I was still standing there wrapped in nothing but a towel.
I cracked the door open just enough to see him standing there with one hand shoved in his pocket and the other clutching his stomach.
“The hell you doing?” I asked. “You know I be walking out. Nigga, this ain’t no date.”
He waved me off. “Studly, get out my way. I gotta shit.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, you couldn’t do that before you came?”
“You live five minutes from the arena. I wasn’t about to risk it.”
I stepped aside to let Crow inside my place. As he walked past me, his eyes slowly traveled from my bare legs up to the towel wrapped around my body before landing on my face. He smirked and shook his head.
“You know...you could’ve at least put some clothes on.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was ironing them until somebody showed up about to shit on himself.”
He laughed all the way down the hallway toward the bathroom while I hurried back to my room. I quickly threw on my fitted Warriors jersey, a pair of baggy cargo pants, and my fresh pair of Timbs. I was comfortable, but still fly.
A minute later, Crow stepped out of my bathroom, drying his hands on his jeans. The second he looked at me, his eyes slowly traveled from my Timbs all the way up to my face.
“The hell you looking at?” I asked.
He smirked. “Nothin’.”
“Liar.”
“I was just making sure you match my fly.”
“Always,” I winked.
We walked out to his truck, and I climbed into the passenger seat.
Anytime we went somewhere together, Crow insisted on driving.
I quit arguing with him about it a long time ago.
The ride to IndieHood Stadium didn’t take long.
After parking in the garage, we made our way inside the building.
The second we stepped onto the concourse, my eyes got big seeing that we had courtside tickets.
“Damn...”
Crow glanced over at me. “What?”
“You ain’t tell me the seats were like this.”
He chuckled. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“I appreciate this.”
He gave me a small nod. “I know.”
“Why you ain’t bring Sebastian?”
“He ain’t into basketball. My little man loves football. So, we’re gonna have to catch a football game instead.”
“I can respect that.”
As we settled into our seats, I caught a group of women damn near burning holes through Crow with their eyes.
They were so damn thirsty I felt like passing out gallon-sized cups.
Every fake laugh was louder than the last, and they kept throwing him those “pick me” stares like he was supposed to magically fall in love. That shit was annoying as hell.
“Damn... they doing way too damn much.”
Crow looked up. “What now?”
“The thirsty committee across from us. They been staring at you so hard I’m surprised they ain’t gone cross-eyed yet.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Every time we go out, it’s like this.”
“Well, somebody need to hand them a gallon of water, ‘cause they look dehydrated as hell.”
He laughed. “You always got something to say.”
I smirked. “Am I lying, though?”
He glanced over at the women before looking back at me with that cocky grin I knew all too well.
“Nah... you ain’t. But I can’t help that I’m fly.”
I rolled my eyes. “Boy, please.”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Don’t ‘boy please’ me. You look good too, Rain.”
I frowned. “What?”
“I said you look good.”
I stared at him for a second before snorting. “Nigga, whatever.”
“I’m serious.” His eyes swept over me again, slower this time. “Women and men stay staring at your ass because they can’t figure out what team you rocking with in them baggy-ass clothes.”
I laughed. “Boy, ain’t nobody checking for me.”
“They definitely are.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And how would you know?”
“’Cause I be watching.”
For a split second, his words caught me off guard. Then he shrugged like he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary.
“I notice everything.”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the little flutter that hit my chest. “You sound like a damn stalker.”
Crow laughed. “Nah... just your best friend.”
“The one who thinks he fine as hell,” I shot back.
He flashed that cocky grin. “I don’t think it... I know it.”
I busted out laughing. “Your confidence need its own damn seat.”
He winked. “Confidence look good on a fine-ass nigga.”
I just shook my head and focused on the game, refusing to give his cocky ass the satisfaction of knowing he had caught me off guard with his comment.
When the game started, I had my popcorn in one hand and my drink in the other.
Every few minutes, Crow reached into the bucket without looking.
The third time he did it, his fingers brushed against my hand.
Neither of us pulled away right away. Instead, we looked at each other for a brief second before quietly reaching for another handful like nothing had happened.
“You gonna eat all the popcorn?” Crow asked.
I smirked. “You the one stealing it?”
“I bought it.”
“That don’t make it yours anymore.”
“Anything that I want, I get,” he said.
While I laughed, Crow grabbed another handful anyway.
The game itself was straight trash, but I couldn’t even complain.
I was enjoying my time with Crow, who made sure I was having a good time no matter what.
We spent more time clowning each other than watching the players brick shots.
Then, out of nowhere, that damn kiss cam started making its way around the arena.
People were always so pressed to kiss on camera like they had something to prove.
Half of them probably wouldn’t even be together six months later.
I never understood the hype. And I barely paid it any attention until the camera landed on us.
The second our faces popped up on the jumbotron, the entire arena erupted.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
“Oh, hell no,” I muttered, sinking lower into my seat.
The chants only got louder.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
I groaned and covered my face. “These people need to mind their damn business.”
Crow chuckled beside me. “You wanna shut ‘em up?”
Before I could ask what he meant, he gently cupped my jaw and turned my face toward his.
My heart stumbled against my ribs as our eyes locked.
Everything around us seemed to disappear—the screaming fans, the music, the announcer—until there was nothing but him.
Then his lips met mine. It wasn’t the quick peck I expected.
His kiss was slow, warm, and surprisingly tender, lingering just long enough to steal every coherent thought from my head.
My fingers instinctively gripped the front of his jersey as electricity shot through every inch of my body.
For one dangerous moment, I forgot we were sitting in the middle of a packed arena.
I forgot we were supposed to be best friends.
All I could think about was how right his lips felt against mine.
The crowd erupted, snapping me back to reality. Crow pulled away, wearing that same cocky grin he’d worn all night, like he’d just won another round of our usual banter.
“There,” he said with a shrug. “Happy now?”
I stared at him, completely speechless.
He turned his attention back to the court as if nothing had happened, laughing when the camera finally moved on to another couple.
Meanwhile, I couldn’t hear a damn thing the announcer was saying.
My lips still tingled. My pulse refused to slow down.
Every time I stole a glance at Crow, he looked completely unbothered, cheering at a play and talking trash about the game like he hadn’t just kissed the hell out of me.
I hated how much I kept replaying it in my mind. And what pissed me off even more was how badly I wanted to know if he’d been pretending or if that kiss had shaken him too.
By the time the final buzzer sounded, the arena was buzzing with excited fans pouring into the concourse.
Music blasted through the speakers while people laughed, celebrated, and argued over missed calls as they made their way toward the exits.
Crow and I followed the crowd outside, taking our time instead of rushing.
The cool evening air was a welcome change after being packed inside the arena for the last couple of hours.
“See,” I said, nudging his shoulder. “I told you they was gonna win.”
“You also said the referee was getting paid by the other team.”
“He probably was.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You impossible.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
We reached the sidewalk leading toward the parking garage when I heard a familiar voice.
He stopped walking, and I looked over my shoulder to find his baby mama, Shameka, making her way toward us with another woman beside her.
Both of them were dressed like they had planned on being seen.
I chuckled when Crow let out a quiet sigh under his breath.
I knew he didn’t want to be bothered with her ass.
Right away, his bitter baby mama came marching toward us with one hand planted on her hip, and her lips pursed so tight they looked like they’d been glued together.
The hard look in her eyes told me she had an attitude, and judging by the way she was stomping in our direction, I had a feeling I was about to become her problem.
“So you just out here kissing bitches you swear are ‘just your best friend?” she snapped, mugging me so hard you’d have thought I’d stolen her man instead of getting caught up in a damn Kiss Cam.
Shameka’s eyes slowly dragged me from head to toe before settling back on my face, daring me to say something.
I folded my arms. “You talking to me, or him?”
“You,” she said, pointing a manicured finger in my face like she was trying to scare somebody. She puffed out her chest, squared her shoulders, and put on the toughest face she could manage.
She wasn’t intimidating me.
I let out a dry laugh. “You better take your ass on before I beat your ass. Matter of fact, I’ll make you dig your own grave.”
I took one slow step toward her until there was barely any space between us.
“I ain’t the one to play with. So unless you want to make Crow a single father today... jump stupid.”
For the first time since she’d walked over, the attitude on her face cracked.
“See? I knew you was fucking this bitch.”
Crow’s jaw tightened. “Watch your mouth, Shameka. She isn’t a bitch.
She ignored him, keeping her eyes locked on me.
“Is that why we didn’t work out? Because I don’t dress like a nigga?” Shameka was trying to be funny.
I looked down at my oversized Warriors jersey, cargo pants, and Timbs before looking back at her. A slow smile spread across my face.
“Nah,” I said.
She frowned.
“Nah what?”
“I don’t think your wardrobe was the problem.”
Her friend sucked her teeth.
“You got a slick mouth.”
“I’ve been told.”
Crow stepped between us. “Aight. That’s enough.”
I lightly touched his arm. “Nah, Crow. She asked a question.”
My eyes found Shameka’s again. “If you wanna know why y’all didn’t work out, you should probably ask the man you had a relationship with. And for the record, I look good as hell dressed like this.”
Crow couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped him. “Rain...”
“What?” I asked innocently. “I was answering her question.”
“Girl, for somebody dressed like a nigga, you sure got a lot of mouth,” her friend said, folding her arms.
I looked her up and down before letting my eyes settle on her face. “Says the chick who look like a British bulldog in the face.”
While Crow snorted, trying to hide a laugh, I smirked. That only pissed her off more. Even Shameka had to cover her mouth to hide a laugh, but her friend wasn’t amused. She stepped toward me, jabbing a finger in my face like she was trying to prove something.
“You think you funny?” the chick said, snaking her neck.
“I know I am,” I chuckled.
“Rain,” Crow warned, stepping between us.
Crow was always a gentleman. He hated seeing women fight, and if he could avoid it, he would.
“You know what? You got it,” I said, calmly.
I turned to leave with Crow, deciding they weren’t worth the headache. That’s when I heard it.
“Hawk... ptoo.”
Something wet splattered onto the pavement just inches from my Timbs. I stopped walking. Slowly, I looked down at the spit lying beside my boots. The smile disappeared from my face and Crow’s entire body tensed. Then he turned to face his baby mama.
“Shameka,” he said quietly. “Get your friend... now.”
Nobody moved as I rolled my shoulders once before turning around.
Crow got in front of me, seeing the murderous look in my eye.
Everybody standing near the entrance stopped walking.
A crowd began to form as people sensed something was about to happen.
I was itching to get it poppin’ like the Fourth of July.