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“You think that nigga know you like I know you?”

I stared at him.

“Here you go.”

“You mine, Ave.”

I actually laughed.

“Boy, fuck you.”

“I’m serious.”

“And I’m seriously telling you I’m not.”

His eyes stayed on me.

“You know what the fuck it is with us.”

“No. I know you’re married, got four kids at home with my sister, got a daughter with me nobody knows is yours, and somehow still got the fucking audacity to come into my job telling me I’m yours.”

“Avery—”

“No. I’m not your fucking property.”

A patient walked up to the desk.

“Excuse me?”

I immediately turned away from Xay.

“Yes?”

“Do I need to schedule my next cleaning now?”

“You can. It’ll probably be easier because we’re filling up.”

“Okay.”

I pulled up the calendar while Xay stood there looking irritated.

The woman looked at him.

Then at me.

Then back at him.

I wanted to crawl under my fucking desk.

Once I got her scheduled and she walked away, I leaned across the counter.

“You are embarrassing me.”

“How the fuck am I embarrassing you?”

“Because you’re standing at my job arguing with me about another man like you’re my boyfriend.”

“I ain’t say I was your boyfriend.”