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Blair.
My blood turns to ice as memories threaten to drown me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Those luscious lips of hers pout, hazel eyes mocking offense. “Is that really how you greet an old friend?”
“No,” I hiss. “That’s how I greet a devil of a fucking ex-girlfriend.”
Blair slides into the seat Eric had vacated just moments ago. I turn around, hoping that if I ignore her enough, she’ll disappear back to whatever hell hole she crawled out of. I haven’t seen this bitch in years. Not since—
Nope. I chug the rest of my whiskey. Not going back down that road.
“Aren’t you going to ask how I’ve been?” Blair asks. Red nails trail down my bicep, and I jerk away.
“That would mean I have to care,” I reply flatly.
“K-bear,” I turn to stone at the old nickname, “why don’t we catch up a bit?” She reaches for me again.
I catch her hand, gripping it with just enough force to send a warning. “I’m not interested in catching up with you. Or having anything to do with you,” I tell her viciously. “Last I heard, you’d jumped across the pond to Italy once you realized my brother wasn’t going to make you a rich trophy wife.”
She’s mostly unphased by my harsh words, though she does look a little guilty. But I know it’s all an act. I’ve known her for too long to be fooled by it. “Killian, that’s all in the past. But, if it makes you feel any better, I really am sorry.” Her hand shifts, fingers lacing through mine. “It took running away for me to realize what a great guy I had and how I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t just ruin it,” I growl. “You obliterated it.” Dropping her hand, I reach for the bottle again. “How did you even find me?”
“Well, considering everything, I assumed you’d be out. Deducted that you were probably at one of the many clubs you own across the city, contacted my old friends, and ta-da, here I am.” She gives me a brilliant smile, proud of herself.
“So you basically stalked me.” Her smile drops.
She sighs, the sound grating on my nerves. “What’s wrong?”
Besides her being here? Of all fucking places? Everything. “Nothing.”
“Come on, Kill. I’ve known you for a long time. I know when something’s wrong.” She leans an elbow on the counter, cheek in hand. Her flaming red hair falls across the wood.
I pour a quick shot, tossing it back. “Why are you even here, Blair? What the hell could you have possibly come back for?”
She blows out a breath as if stalling to find the right words. Most likely, it’ll all be a lie, but I couldn’t help but ask. We’d been together for six years, from high school through university. I’d thought she was the love of my life, the woman I’d actually marry. Until I found out she’d been having an affair with my brother on and off for about half that. Blair was one of the few people who actually knew who my brother was, despite my father’s attempts at keeping his heir hidden until the right time.
“After…everything that happened, I thought it would be best to get out of New York for a while,” she explains. “So, I took an internship in Rome, packed my bags, and just…headed out.”
“Maybe you should have stayed. What? You couldn’t find any rich Italian men to scam over there?” I glower, pouring another drink, this time nearly to the brim. Already, the alcohol was buzzing through my veins. The edges of my brain grew fuzzy, and I welcomed the numbness. Anything to help me forget she was ever here by tomorrow morning.
“No, that’s not why I came back,” she said softly. Something in her voice forces me to look at her. She’s staring at the counter, thick black lashes sweeping her cheeks. Her eyes flick up, meeting mine. “I missed you.”
I can’t help it. I laugh.
Something dark twists across her face before she catches it. “Why is that so funny to you? Is it really that much of a joke to you that I actually missed you?” she demands.
“I wouldn’t be laughing if it were the truth,” I tell her, sobering up. “Which I know it isn’t. You forget—I know you just as well as you think you know me.”
Her arms snap across her chest as she glares. I had to give it to her, she looked good no matter what mood she was in. I once found that attractive. Now I know better.
“I did really miss you, Killian,” she insists. I scoff. “No, really. I mean it. Being alone in Italy gave me a lot of time to think about everything. About what I had.”
I raise my glass to my lips. “A little too late now, don’t you think?”
“Is it?” Her head tilts, body relaxing. She thinks she’s made progress.
“Didn’t you hear?” I sneer. “I’m getting married. This,” I raise the bottle, “is my celebration.” I motion for the bartender to hand me another glass before I pour a knuckle into it as well.
