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“Go home, Aeson. Before I pound your face in.”
Cyrus is giving off some seriously aggressive energy, despite the fact that he seems to know this guy. I'm a little impressed that Aeson holds his ground.
“I promised our Ra’a I would take her sister to breakfast today.”
“She doesn’t want to go.”
“Sheis right here and would very much like to go to breakfast with a handsome man.”
“You’re already having breakfast with a handsome man.” Cyrus’s arm loops my waist, pulling me into his body so my back isagainst his chest.
The possessiveness shouldn’t be doing it for me. It’s too little, too late. And it’s obnoxious that he has no problem claiming me in front of this guy and not in front of Jethro. If he’s only going to want me when someone else does, that’s not going to work for me.
I spin around, put my hands on his chest, and push. A miscalculation, because he doesn’t budge and now my palms are on his chest and his are on my waist. My bare waist. Why did I think it was a good idea to wear a crop top? I let go and push myself back out of his hold.
“Look, pretty boy, I told my sister I would do this. We can have breakfast another day.”
His expression is the same as an artist who’s just gotten a critical review. His whole face falls. But he steps back and doesn’t argue.
“Hold on Aeson,” I say. “Let me just grab my shoes and purse.”
I duck back around Cyrus and hurry to my room to grab my things, doing a quick check in the mirror to make sure I look okay. Jess wasn’t lying. This guy is seriously hot. Not as hot as Cyrus. But unarguably attractive. Maybe this will be a good distraction from the man I won’t let myself have.
When I get back to the front door, Cyrus is still blocking it, and Aeson is still standing in the hall. They’re talking in lowtones, and all I catch are the last few lines.
“Take it up with the Ra’a. I’m just doing what was commanded.”
“Right, like it’s such a hardship to go out with a gorgeous Ra’ia.”
Aeson’s eyes flick over Cyrus’s shoulder, meeting mine, and their conversation immediately stops. Cyrus grits his teeth as I pass. He stays in the doorway, watching us as we wait for the elevator.
When we finally step inside, and the elevator doors slide shut, we both let out a sigh and awkward laughter fills the space.
“That was intense,” Aeson says, running a hand through his hair.
“Don’t mind him.” I turn to face Aeson, leaning against the elevator wall as I study him. “Cyrus is just being an overprotective… big brother type.”
The words are bitter and taste wrong. I definitely don’t think of Cyrus as a big brother, and I know he doesn’t think of me that way either. But I don’t want Aeson to think something’s going on that isn’t.
He raises one eyebrow pointedly. “That’s not how it seemed.”
“There’s nothing going on with Cyrus.” I might wish therewas, but there’s not. “I’m excited about this. Where are we going?”
“There’s a little cafe I like in the village called Chime Time. They’ve got incredible—”
“Cinnamon rolls.” My smile is genuine and so is his. “That’s one of my favorite places for brunch.”
The elevator opens, and he places his hand on the small of my back. Pleasant, but not tingly.
When we step outside, his gaze shoots upward. He swallows thickly, then drops his hand away from me. There’s a car waiting, and I wonder if all of Jess’s friends are rich. None of them seem to ever take the subway.
During the drive, we fall into easy conversation, chatting about our favorite artists and musicians. We don’t have much in common, but he’s a good conversationalist, and I feel comfortable with him.
But the whole time, there’s an odd feeling in my chest… like a homesickness I can’t shake.
Chapter 20
Cyrus
