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“Shay, he doesn’t look at Lana the way he looks at you. I can try my best to let that go, but then he calls you girls beautiful and puts his hand on your lower back. Don’t you think that warrants me to be a tad jealous?”

“No, not with me.” She stands still, her gaze never wavering and her tone firm. I shake my head and finally move. Pushing from the desk, I sit in the chair just in front of it. Moving around me, she takes my previous spot and leans against her desk.

“You know, men nowadays tend to not be so gentlemanlike, I feel he is just being a gentleman.” Dropping my head in my hands, exasperated, I laugh in a mocking tone.

“The only woman I touch like that is you. I don’t whisper in Lana’s ear and place my hand inches from her ass, or call her beautiful one too many fucking times,” I tell her, sitting back up and running my hand through my hair. I know Shay, and if the roles were reversed she would be a tad jealous. We are a naturally jealous species, humans are jealous of all things. Friends are jealous when their best friend hangs with someone else, men are jealous when their women talk to other men and I know damn well women get jealous of other women. It’s human nature; however, mine may be a tad bit more complicated.

“Trey. It’s nothing. Okay.” She comforts me, her tone low and calming. I appreciate her being patient with me and talking things out with me, but I’m not going to just sit here and let a man call my woman beautiful the way he does. “Okay, I think we need to talk about this tonight. I feel this isn’t the time or place to go this deep into the issue.”

“You’re right. Maybe we should talk about it when you get home. Are you mad at me?” I reach my hand out, hoping she will take it. I smile internally when she places her hand in mine.

“I’m not mad, I’m just not understanding you and why you feel the way you do.” I can appreciate that, and now I need to be patient with her and step back for a minute. It’s only fair.

“I can meet you at home. I can see I’ve overstepped my boundaries,” I declare, standing and letting her hand slip from mine. I don’t know how I feel about everything. I mean I didn’t overreact like I could have or like I wanted to, but I still let my jealousy slip through the cracks just enough for Shay to be disappointed in me.

“You didn’t overstep your boundaries, you just didn’t respect mine. I don’t want to fight, but we do need to talk about this, Trey, this has to stop.” I shake my head in absorption. My chest tightening enough to make me want to fall to my knees at her feet and beg for her forgiveness. I guess the whole saying about people being mad at you isn’t as bad as them being disappointed in you—is true.

“I’m sorry, Shay. I’ll see you at home.” I leave her without one more glance, heading back to the rental car. Kings sees me leaving and says his good-byes. I wait in the car while I watch him say something to Shayla, shaking his head and then hugging her briefly before heading to me.

Climbing in, he starts on me immediately. “Get your jealousy under control, Trey, you don’t want to lose my sister,” he warns, buckling up while I pull out.

“I know, but you see it, right? You see the way he looks at her, the way he talks to her?” I ask, begging that he will agree so I can convince myself I’m not making this shit up in my head, that I’m not totally wrong for feeling the way I do.

“Yeah, I do. But he hasn’t done anything to make her feel uncomfortable and he hasn’t made a move on her, so that shouldn’t bother you. Besides, my

sister is a beautiful woman, so anyone who isn’t blind is gonna check her out. Learn to deal with that or move on. Don’t put my sister in the middle of all your shit.”

“I know she’s fucking beautiful, I get that. I know I am the fucking problem, Kings, but I need help fixing that” I confess, my eyes not leaving the road in front of me. Shayla has always been shy, yes, but what she hasn’t been is unsure of what she wants. Shayla rationalizes all things, thinks them through thoroughly, and goes in strong with her final decision. She is the strong one in our relationship.

“Then figure out exactly what it is you need from her to help you. Because she is loyal as fuck and there shouldn’t sit one doubt in your fucking head over your relationship with her.” I hate that he’s right. Not once did Shayla respond to Evan’s comments or blush when he complimented her. All that shit is made up in my head.

“I’ll work my shit out. As long as I have Shayla, I can work my shit out. If it means keeping her then I’ll do it,” I declare.

“You fucking better, because remember, bros or not, Shay comes first in my line.”

“I know.” Leaving the conversation there, I get us home and spend the next few hours on edge, waiting for Shayla so I can fix everything.

I watch the clock religiously, checking it every five seconds when five rolls around. I’m waiting in Shayla’s room, nervous for what she’s gonna say. Nervous for what I’m gonna say. We have such strong passion between us two, that it can go one of two ways—amazing or completely south.

I hear the front door open and shut, then the distinct sound of heels against the hard wood, echoing down the hall. My palms are sweating and I gently rock back and forth from my spot on her bed. The door creaks open and she appears, looking just as tired and stressed as me. We have only been dating a short time, and I feel we have already faced so much shit. And it’s all my fucking fault.

“Hey,” I start first, ready to get this shit going and fix the mess I made.

“Hi.” Her low voice pinches my heart tighter. I hate that during this important time in her life, I’m causing issues. God, I really am a bastard.

“I have a problem. I have severe jealousy, something I am struggling to control. I just don’t appreciate men looking at you and calling you beautiful and incredible. He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, especially in a professional setting.” I ramble on, trying to fit all that I want to say into one breath. She removes her shoes, then stands in place for a moment longer, her fingers rubbing circles against her temple.

“Trey. I’m your girlfriend. I chose you. I may be new to this whole thing, seeing as you’re my first boyfriend. But, I’m almost certain cheating has to happen in order for someone to doubt or feel insecure the way you do.” She moves to her dresser and removes her jewelry. She hasn’t looked at me, avoiding my sorrowful stare, I’m sure. I look how I feel—like shit.

“Shayla. I fucking trust you; it’s him I don’t trust. I feel like he has a hidden agenda. I can’t explain it but the way he looks at you makes something not feel right.” I am trying my best to search for a rational way to explain how I can feel the way I do just simply because his eyes have a wandering problem, but even it sounds crazy to me and I’m the one fucking feeling this way.

“Trey, this man is going to help me build this dream of mine, something Lana and I have wanted for so long.” She says this and I choose to forgo telling her that makes me just as insecure. Sure my dad is wealthy, and if I wanted to I could ask for a loan to help invest in her dream, but she wouldn’t take it and I know she wants to make it on her own. But I think I would do better keeping that information to myself.

“I know, but I just want to make sure he is doing it for the right reason.” Her head snaps in my direction and her eyes narrow in on me.

“Wow, Trey. That’s not cool.” She walks into her closet and I curse myself, squinting my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose, I think of something to combat what I just said. Before I can speak she comes rushing out of the closet, wearing nothing but a silk nighty. She looks beautiful.

“I’m glad to know that you think I couldn’t get this dream off the ground without my nice body. Did you ever stop and think about that? Did you even think it could be possible that I might actually be working really hard, and Lana and I are really that incredible? Maybe just possibly he’s stating a fact? Or am I not good enough in your eyes, and the only way I can possibly get this investor is if I flirt a little with him and not by pure talent?” Her voice raises and she looks extremely hurt. Not pissed, just hurt. Holy fuck, this is her goddamn dream and the only thing stopping it or getting in the way is me. I am the one making this dream difficult.

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