I stepped away from Kylie, trying to figure out how to dissolve the tension of the situation. It was clear Kylie was uncomfortable, and as my eyes lifted to look out at the surprisingly great view she had from her apartment, I caught my son’s reflection in the window. He stood in the entryway of the home, his feet concealed by the box of what I assumed was his stuff sitting on the floor. His fists were clenched and his nostrils flared, and slowly, his shoulders started to roll back.

Posturing.

Had I taught my son nothing? A man didn’t posture when he was upset. A man didn’t make his body grow when he was distraught—especially when the distressful nature was caused by the likes of a woman. A man kept his voice calm, his confident demeanor intact, and still treated the woman with respect. No matter how she came at him and no matter what she did, the man always needed to keep the upper hand emotionally. A man had to keep a cool head and never give a woman any reason to fear for her safety.

It was as if none of the values I’d raised my son with had stuck.

“Adam, I can explain,” Kylie said.

She took a step forward before I jutted out my arm. I stopped her in her tracks, and she whipped her gaze up to mine, surprise flooding her features. This wasn’t an issue she was going to take on headfirst. Adam was upset, and rightfully so. Despite how he had treated Kylie throughout the past few weeks and despite what he had just walked in on, Adam did have a reason to be upset.

But she wasn’t going to field his anger any longer.

Not with me around.

“No, thanks. I’ve seen all I need. Where’s the rest of my shit?” Adam asked.

“You watch that language,” I said as I turned around.

“Why? Because I’m in the presence of my ex-girlfriend sucking face with my father?” he asked.

“No. Because men don’t address women with the kind of tone you currently don.”

“That’s all of it,” Kylie said. “That box at your feet. You picked up the rest throughout this past week.”

“You can take your things and leave,” I said.

“With no due respect whatsoever, stay out of this…Dad.”

His tone was icy, and Kylie’s eye twitch at the sound of it. Adam bent down and picked up the box before eyeing her coldly. I wanted to step in front of her, to shield her from the anger my son was hellbent on tossing her way. But she seemed to be holding her own just fine. Adam turned his eyes to me one last time, shook his head, then muttered something under his breath that I didn’t catch.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Nothing, Father.”

Adam made his way down the hallway, stomping like a petulant toddler.

The tension from the room left with him, and Kylie let out a breath I hadn’t known she’d been holding. I looked down at her and watched her shoulders settle into their rightful place. She glanced up at me with a forlorn stare, and I wanted to take her back into my arms and kiss it away. I wanted to resume where we had been and paint her body with my lips until the only memory she had was of my name.

Then I’d make her forget that too.

“I’m sorry, Kylie. I have no idea what kind of man my son has turned into,” I said.

“You don’t need to apologize. I was just caught up in the rush of things.”

I furrowed my brow as she took a step away from me.

“I’ve just been incredibly emotional lately, so right now it’s easy for me to get wrapped up in moments that fly by my head.”

“I wasn’t apologizing for the kiss.”

Her head whipped over to me as she stood by her couch. It really did look good in her apartment. I had known it would the second I saw it. Getting the furniture passed her purview had been difficult, but I’d finally gotten some of my coworkers on board with my idea. I had purchased all the furniture for her once I’d caught wind from Adam about their breakup. He’d called the day after, sounding downtrodden and alone. That had meant Kylie was in even worse shape. And since all my top-shop employees had been congratulating her on her impending move and trying to usher her into the company family, it had been easy to pawn off the new furniture I’d bought for her as coworker gifts.

Yep. All the furniture suited her new space perfectly.

I wanted to mark all of it with us.

“Well, I am,” Kylie said. “On a professional level, it was a massive line overstepped. And on a personal level, it’s still a massive line overstepped. I’m sorry.”

“Apology not accepted,” I said.

“Well, I’m still giving it.”

“And that’s fine.”

“Please accept it.”

“I won’t.”

“Ryan.”

How I wished my name tumbled off her lips for a different reason.

“Apology accepted,” I said.

But deep down, I’d never accept it. What had happened between the two of us hadn’t been a mistake. And I knew she was only making excuses. Kylie was overwhelmed, and rightfully so. Within the span of five weeks, she had taken on a corporate position, agreed to move in with her longtime boyfriend, broken up with said boyfriend, and now lived in a new place she was unfamiliar with. Her emotions were probably flying throughout her body at a million miles a second, and as I took the time to study her, I saw how nervous she really was.

She was curling her bare toes into the carpet like she did at work sometimes, fiddling with the bed of that nail she tried to conceal, chewing on the inside of her lip.

Kylie was worked up beyond recognition, and I wanted to be the one to relax her.

I knew she felt what I felt. Throughout the past couple weeks, something had grown between us that I hadn’t been able to shake. It had been easier to do when she had been dating my son, but that encounter on my couch at my home had opened my eyes to the wealth of maturity Kylie had behind her beautiful stare. Sure, she was gorgeous. She had light-brown hair that spilled between her shoulder blades whenever it was down, hazel eyes with specks of gold that shone whenever the sun hit her just right from behind in her office, long legs that tapered into thick hips. There was a dip in her waist that called to my hands every damn time I set my eyes on her. She had voluptuous breasts she kept tastefully hidden from view during work and rosy-red cheeks that fit perfectly in the divot of my chest.

But there was more to Kylie than that.

That day on my couch while sharing that bottle of champagne with her, I had found out how mature she really was for her age. How intelligent and intuitive she was. Her words and wisdom were well beyond her years, and the more I spoke with her, the more intelligent I found her to be. She was incomparable when it came to her professional work. She could run calculations in her head on the spot that stunned even the brightest of my investors. She worked well with the team I had assembled for my corporate lifestyle. Doug was especially fond of her for her talents and organizational skills, though I was keeping an eye on that—especially with his penchant for younger women.

Kylie was more than a pretty face. She was a powerhouse of a woman to be reckoned with.

“What?”

Her voice pulled me from my trance, and my eyes trained on hers.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m sure you have a lot of settling in to do. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I do. A friend of mine is coming back over later. She’s going to help me unpack throughout the weekend before I come back into work on Monday.”

I was glad the pronoun Kylie used was “she.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it. But if you need anything—anything at all—you know how to get in touch with me.”

“That I do,” she said.

Against everything inside myself, I put one foot in front of the other and left her behind. I left her in that apartment alone with her thoughts and the events that had just transpired. But one thing was for certain. One thing would not happen so long as I was around to moderate the situation.

Adam would not come at her like that in private.

Ever.