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Cyrus stiffened behind me, the sudden wave of jealousy coming from him, slamming into me.

“He, pet?” Cyrus repeated, his voice gruff. “What’s his name?”

Cheesy. I don’t know his real name but he’s nic—

“Cheesy?” Cyrus snatched the phone from me and shoved to his feet. “You got some explaining to do, boy,” he told whoever was on the other end of the phone. “How do you know Ainsley Cloet?”

I never had a man become jealous over me being close with another guy. Cheesy and I had become friends. He was young and I looked at him like a little brother. Whatever Cyrus was worried about or was jealous over, didn’t make sense.

Cyrus’s dark eyes met mine. “You friends?” he asked who I could only assume was Cheesy on the other end of the phone. “That it?” He waited. “Good. Keep it that way.” He hung up and came toward me at the same time I rose to my feet.

Listen, whatever you think is going on, isn’t. He was vetted by the owners of the center. I don’t think they would hire just some random guy. So, I don’t appreciate you accusing me of shit when I haven’t done anything. It’s not like you and I have put a label on this either. We’ve never said that we’re exclusive or committed to each other, Cyrus. You’ve asked me on one date and kissed me a few times. But it’s nothing more than that.

“Slower, babe.” He frowned. “I can’t catch everything when you go fast.”

I huffed, throwing my hands up in the air and went to storm past him when he caught my arm.

Cyrus spun me around.

I don’t like this jealousy rolling off of you, Cyrus.

“Fuck, Ainsley. Slow down.”

I shoved him away, glaring at him.

“Keep your dirty looks to yourself, pet. Maybe if you actually spoke, we’d be able to communicate better.”

My eyes widened, his words slapping me in the face.

Cyrus scowled, shaking his head. “Shit, that’s not what I meant.”

Lifting my hands, I curled them into fists and gave him the signature Ross Gellar sign forfuck youand stormed back into the apartment.

Cyrus

Iwas an asshole.

I shouldn’t have been jealous. Hell, I had no reason to be. Like Ainsley said, we had never put a label on what we were doing. We weren’t official. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend. Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. I called Cheesy because I had assumed it was him. It wasn’t like Cheesy was a common nickname. He had stuttered over his words and quickly said that they were just friends and how his dad wanted him to give back to the community.

I should have taken her word for it but the jealous possessive side of me came out faster than I would have liked. Truth was, I had never been jealous over a guy being friends with whoever I was interested in. Not that there had been many women I was interested in over the years anyway. Ainsley was a first for me.

The hurt written all over her face for my little outburst was not something I wanted to ever put there again, but the words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. Now I wanted to shove my foot up my own ass and go dig myself an even bigger hole.

Putting my hands in my pockets, I headed back into the apartment in search of the woman I was quickly becoming obsessed with. She had me unraveled. I had asked Jaron before how he knew he was in love with Piper, and he said he just knew. That didn’t overly answer my question. My chest tightened, wishing my parents were here to help me. To guide me. I imagined my father telling me to do whatever it was I could to make it up to Ainsley. Although we had lost them when we were kids, I still remembered the love they had for each other. It was something I wanted for as long as I could remember.

“What’s wrong with mom?” Sammy asked, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

Dad sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “I messed up,” he told us. “So now I’m trying to figure out how to get back in your mother’s good books.”

“You’re fighting?” I asked, my stomach twisting. Mom and Dad hardly ever fought.

“You mean, you fucked up and now you’re begging for Mom’s forgiveness?” Sammy asked, his question pulling a deep chuckle from Dad.

“Something like that.” Dad sat forward, narrowing his eyebrows at my brother. “You need to watch your mouth, Son.”

Mom took that moment to come into the dining room. “What’s so funny?”

“Your son is calling me out on my shit,” Dad told her.