Page 123 of How Can I Love You

“The fuck? If I’m not your man, then who is? And don’t even think to fix your mouth to say Saint.” He scoffs, jaw clenching.

I ignore his last comment purposely, though I can’t help the anger from building in my chest from his choice of words. “I don’t need you to find me a job Cairo. I’m more than capable of figuring out where I want to work. This is exactly why I didn’t tell you—you’re so possessive for no fucking reason! You had me the first time—withSaint. Nowbothof you are on a mission to claim me!”

My voice is rising, and I realize I'm yelling. The girl who was just here is now gone. She must have slipped out in a hurry soon after he came storming in here, because I never noticed her walking out.

Cairo’s eyebrows lift, and the look clicks everything into place. It’s obvious they haven’t talked about their feelings for me to each other yet. I thought they were like brothers—guess not close brothers. But we all see how they’ve both been practically fighting over my attention lately.

“I don’t have a man,” I say, trying to calm down. “I already told both of you I’m just having fun—and if I remember correctly you’re the one who was most excited about that.”

He steps in until his breath brushes my lips. “Yeah, you say that baby girl, but your actions say otherwise. Keep thinking you’re not mine.” His mouth curls, mean and sure. “Guess I’ll have to show you better than I can tell you. I was okay with just fucking around but that was before I stayed the night with you—you got me whether you want to admit it or not.” He says before turning to walk out, the door snaps shut, leaving the echo of his words in the air.

God, I knew these men would give me a run for my money—I just didn’t think it’d happen this fast. Then again, I should’ve known better. My luck’s never been pretty—just messy with a good view.

This is what I get for thinking this is something I can control.

I’m starting to think I barely know what love is anymore, let alone true love. My version of it has always been great sex, a good time, and someone who pretends to care just long enough to make it feel real. That’s when I feel loved. And yeah—an occasional gift helps. But people say that’s not what love is.

Maybe they’re right.

Maybe they aren’t.

Still, something in me can’t seem to walk away from a feeling I’m too eager to hold onto.

And now I have to decide—walk away from one, or show them I’m made for both.