The possessiveness I feel over her scares the fuck out of me. We’ve hung out twice. She’s a fucking stranger.
And according to Cassian, when he called me an hour ago, her name didn’t come up in any public records, so he’s digging deeper for anything he might be able to find with the information I gave him.
“What the hell are you doing here, Cash?” I press my fingers into my temples.
He looks up from his phone and tilts his head to the side, studying me. “Well, I was over at The Sapphire, checking on Jordyn.”
Fucking of course he was.
“And I thought I’d check your location, because I had a feeling that you wouldn’t actually be able to stay away from work, and lo and behold, here the fuck you are.”
After letting my head fall back against my leather chair, I stare at the ceiling, willing myself to refrain from shooting him.
“Okay, so here I am. What the hell do you want? I don’t need you here right now,” I snap.
Unfazed by my mood, Cash takes a sip from his glass. “Why do you feel like you have to be here all the time?”
I sit straight and stare at him blankly. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Is he really this dumb?
He looks up from his phone and shrugs. “What?”
Running my tongue over my teeth, I sigh and stand to get myself a drink from the built-in bar. As I walk past him, I glance at his screen, which shows a map with a tiny red dot moving in the center.
Of course he’s tracking his wife.
If Ace weremywife, I’d track her every move.
The heat of the whiskey I drink spreads through my chest, calming me slightly. I sit in the guest chair, next to Cash, and set the crystal tumbler on my thigh, staring off into space.
“So Ace works for Jordyn,” Cash says as he looks me over. “Which means she’s a local and apparently not a stripper. So, how’s that going? From the looks of you, I’d say not well.”
Running my hand over my face, I let out a heavy sigh. My brother can be a real asshole at times, but there are only three people in this world I trust with my life. My brothers. Cash is a sarcastic dick most of the time, but when shit gets real, I know I can count on him. As if he recognizes that now is one of those times, he slides his phone into his pocket and leans back in the chair, his body aimed toward me.
“Kian, what the fuck’s going on?” he asks more seriously this time.
I tell him everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours. How she lives right by me, so I’ll have to pass her house every time I come and go. How she told me about her car accident, though I leave out the part about her scar since she seemed embarrassed about it. I tell him about her getting a migraine, and then how I answered her phone to another man on the other end.
He listens the entire time, taking a drink every now and then.
When I finally finish, he smirks at me. “Dude, you went into her purse? Should I remind you?” He points to the scar on the left side of his forehead. I can’t help but chuckle and shake my head at him.
“You fucking deserved it. You were being a jealous bastard and searching her purse. I just reached in and grabbed her phone. I didn’t touch anything else. I’m not a dumbass like you.”
Cash barks out laughter and nods. “The dick-sucking I got after getting stitched up was worth it.”
I groan and lean my head back. “Can you not tell me about your sex life with my sister-in-law? Fuck. Tell Beckett. I’m sure he’d like to jerk off to that.”
“I’m not telling Beckett shit. That asshole is going to get his teeth knocked out if he doesn’t stop hitting on my wife.”
We both know Beckett’s advances and nicknames for Jordyn are innocent, but Cash still gets riled up about it, and our shit-stirring baby brother loves to make it happen.
“Okay, so who is this fucker? Let’s get him into a warehouse. Have some fun. I need to let out a little aggression, anyway,” Cash says.
This is why I love my brothers. We all think the same in so many ways.
“I have no idea. Cassian is looking into his phone number. And into her house. How the fuck does a choreographer own a place in my gated neighborhood?”
