Page 51 of Pick Me This Time

“Yeah, I remember. Thanks.”

As soon as they reached our table, it became clear that Fiona had, in fact, come here for me. Her green eyes were fixed on mine, and she hardly even looked at Eric as she sat down—right on my lap.

I frowned up at her. “What are you doing?”

“Welcoming you home, darling.” She smiled, those red-painted lips curling. Her gaze skimmed across my face. “I was wondering if you’d be coming back for this. I’m glad you did.”

Wrapping my hands around her hips, I lifted her off me and scooted to the side, glancing at her and shaking my head. “How’s your husband, Fi?”

She giggled as she waved one of her hands dismissively. “Ex-husband, silly. We just got divorced last year.”

Shit, and now she’s here, and I’m here, and she’s on the prowl. Not good.

Sliding closer to my side, she turned her torso to face mine and reached up to push a manicured hand through my hair. It brought back a slew of memories of her, always all over me even if I didn’t lift a finger in return. “I hear you’re based in Manhattan.”

I nodded. “You heard right.”

“I’m thinking of taking a job there,” she murmured, leaning in to speak against the shell of my ear. “How would you feel about that, Sterlo?”

Oh, God. I hate that nickname.

I could practically hear Eric’s internal laughter as he watched us, but despite her insistence on calling me something I’d told her a million times not to, I was suddenly wondering how I would feel about that.

Fiona and I had been a match of convenience back in high school, but maybe she was what I needed.

Someone who just barely tolerated me but loved riding my dick. Someone who would let me continue to live alone, in a stale, luxury apartment she would never be at even if she did move in. That way, at least if anything ever happened to her, I wouldn’t end up all broken up about it like my dad.

But I would still have company.

I would have someone to share my lonely life and the empty apartment with. Someone to take to my bed when I was in the mood and to have on my arm for events. In as far as arm candy went, I wouldn’t do much better than Fiona Marksmith.

Ten years later, her skin was still as smooth as porcelain. I was pretty sure she’d had some work done to her lips, but other than that, she was still hot. She grinned knowingly when she caught me looking at her, completely ignoring her own friends as they sat down and tried to engage Eric in conversation.

“What do you think, baby?” she purred. “Wouldn’t it be nice to live in the same city again?”

My features remained stoic and I shrugged. “You should do what’s best for you, Fi. If it’s taking that job, then take it. But don’t do it for me.”

“What if I want to?” she asked, lifting an elegant hand again to toy with the hair at the nape of my neck. “You and I were good together, Sterlo. I know I hurt you and I regret it. Deeply. But we could try again. We could have the future we always planned.”

I scoffed, my eyebrows shooting up. “We? The only thing we were, were kids. We dated when we were eighteen. Let’s not turn it into some epic romance.”

“It was an epic romance,” she said softly, slowly swiping her tongue across her full red lips as she peered up at me from underneath black lashes that were very obviously fake. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I know that’s where this is coming from, but Paxton and I had to give things a try. There was a spark. I couldn’t ignore it.”

As she said it, I thought back to my own spark. With Daphne. Can I ignore that?

Blissfully unaware of the direction my thoughts had taken, Fiona brought a hand to my thigh, wrapping her long fingers around it and inching up. Yeah, no. I’m not doing this.

Between her talking about a spark and the revulsion that skated down my spine when she touched me, I knew I needed to get out. The thought of Daphne jarred me into action and I pushed my chair back, standing up in an effort to get as far away from Fiona as I could.

I wanted to see Daphne. I needed to talk to her, even if what I’d said to her was unforgivable. I owed her an apology at the very least. She hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d just been myself.

Grumpy. Cold. Empty.

As I stood up, Eric followed and I glanced at him, tossing some bills down on the table to pay for our drinks. “Hey, man. Weird question, but do you have a suit?”