Page 14

ISABELLE

“ I ssy.” Pierre knocks on the toilet door.

“Go away,” I yell at him. I will not let him see me like this. He doesn’t get to swoop in now after all these years like a white knight.

“Issy,” he says, knocking on the door again.

“Leave me alone, please,” I plead with him.

“No.”

Fuck this man. I open the toilet door and shoot daggers at him. But the devastated look on his face halts me.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea I made you feel that way about yourself,” he says, rubbing his neck.

“Don’t worry about it, it is what it is,” I tell him.

“Fuck, Issy. I damn well will worry about it. You were my best friend. My first love. And I hurt you beyond anyway I knew I could have. All because I was an egotistical jerk who put their needs and ego above the one person they vowed to love and protect.”

“We were kids.”

He shakes his head angrily. “No excuse. I made you believe you were the problem. I changed you, Issy. Me. Fuck,” he says, punching the wall.

What the hell is he thinking? “You didn’t deserve that.

No wonder you haven’t spoken to me in all these years.

Shit.” Pierre looks distraught, maybe I was too honest with him.

“Then I go and fucking kiss you at your father’s funeral.

I yelled at you because I was hurt, because I missed the hell out of you.

And again, there I was being an egotistical jerk and taking what I wanted, and that was you.

” I’m shocked by his confession. “Seeing you there in your childhood bedroom again, looking so fucking beautiful, made me realize how much I fucking missed you. Everything in that moment of my life felt out of control. Things with Kitty were not good. I had been having second thoughts about the wedding for a long time, way before the funeral, and then seeing you again, all the feelings I thought had vanished, hadn’t.

You still have a piece of my heart, Issy, and I don’t think that will ever go away.

” I swallow hard at his confession. “I know there’s no hope for us romantically, especially not after what you told me.

But I really hope there’s a chance that maybe you and I could be friends because I miss the hell out of you and your family. ”

I stare at him in shock. I try to process everything he is saying to me. “I don’t know if I can,” I tell him honestly.

Silence falls between us. “I understand.” His shoulders sag and his face falls. “I truly am sorry for everything, Issy. Let’s get through this week, and then you don’t have to ever see me again.” He turns away and starts to walk back to his seat.

“That’s not fair, you asshole.” Pierre stills and turns back to me. “You can’t say sorry and think that makes everything okay. I hated myself for years. Hated myself because you made me believe I was less than. How can I forgive you when I can never forget how you made me feel?”

Pierre looks at me, and that’s when I see a tear fall down his cheek. “Issy.”

“No,” I point at him, “you don’t get to care now.”

“I never knew,” he tells me.

“You never knew that I loved you with all my heart,” I yell at him.

Pierre runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Issy, because sorry isn’t enough it seems. What do you need from me to make it right?”

“I don’t need anything from you.”

“Why not?” he questions me. I ignore his question and go to step around him, but his hulking mass steps in front of me and stops me. “Why won’t you let me make this right with you?”

“Move,” I hiss at him.

“No.” My mouth falls open in shock at his audacity. Anger bubbles to the surface, and the next thing I know, I am barreling into him, but this time he’s ready for me and grabs me and pushes me up against the wall. “What the hell, Issy. Would you stop trying to fight me.”

“Let go of me,” I growl at him as my hands pummel his hard chest. The next thing I know, he has my wrists cuffed with his hands and stretches them above my head, pressing himself against me. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I curse at him.

“You could have hurt yourself. Look at me and look at you.” I may be small, but I can handle my own.

“The only person hurting me is you.” The barbed sting lands. Pierre sucks in a deep breath before letting it out. “Let go of me before I knee you in the balls,” I warn. He spreads my legs wide with his own so I can’t destroy his crown jewels as he presses himself against me harder.

“I get it, Issy. You hate me. But I think what you need to do is let me have it. Say everything you need to say to me, get it off your chest, yell, scream, fight me, but get it out. I hate that my stupidity is still festering inside you.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I throw back at him.

“And yet you are just as angry with me as you were all those years ago. I’d say that’s some festering,” he says, staring down at me. I swallow because he’s right. We broke up a lifetime ago, but it still cuts deep. “Let it out.”

Tears well in my eyes, I hate being vulnerable, and I hate even more that I like the feeling of him pressed against me. That his muscles ripple with each of his movements against me. I close my eyes and try to steady my heaving heart.

“Issy, please, I need to fix this. I need to fix us.”

“Why? My life was going great until you crashed back into it.”

“Well, mine isn’t. It’s completely out of control right now, and this situation is the only thing I have control over,” he explains.

“You don’t have control over me.”

He raises a brow. “Really, because our current position would say otherwise.” He smirks. That motherfucker smirks.

“Get off me. This isn’t as cute as you think it is,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Probably not. In my mind, if I ever got you in this position, we wouldn’t have any clothes on and we wouldn’t have an audience,” he murmurs.

What! I can’t believe he just said that. “You’re still an egotistical jerk.”

“Fine,” he says, letting go of me as he moves away.

I miss feeling him against me and that is a problem.

He storms away and takes his seat as I give myself a shake before walking back to my seat.

“Us arguing back and forth isn’t going to help things.

” He huffs as he takes a sip of his drink.

He’s right. “I appreciate you coming with me today to get Frankston. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure to find somewhere by the end of the week.

I hate the fact that my being around you is triggering. I don’t want to be your trigger.”

He is a trigger. I didn’t realize how much until now that he’s back in my life.

Harper is right, I need to let this go for my own mental sake.

We don’t have to be friends, but we should be able to co-exist without fighting.

For fifteen years you’ve been harboring this, it’s not healthy.

Plus, Harper and Felix are becoming serious, and that means he is going to be sticking around, especially if he gets a contract with The Mavericks.

If you keep fighting him at every step, then no one is going to want to hang around you.

Pierre is Felix’s family, and he will choose him over me.

I will not let him take away the friendships I’ve built for myself in New York.

He doesn’t get another thing from me. I throw back a big gulp of tequila and feel the burn as it slides down my throat.

“Fine.”

Pierre looks at me, not understanding what I’m saying.

“I’m prepared to put the past in the past and leave it there for the sake of Harper and Felix because as much as you might not like it, she is so going becoming your sister-in-law at some stage.

This means you will be her family which means if I want to stay in her life I’m going to have to put up with you in it.

” He raises a brow at me. “I’m doing this for them. ”

“Not you?”

“Fine for me, too. I’m sick of hating you even though you deserve it.

You’re right. Everyone is fucking right I need to let it go.

It isn’t healthy for me to harbor this much hate toward you after all these years.

I forgive you.” The words are like razor blades against my throat, and I cannot believe I am saying them, but as soon as they are out of my mouth, my shoulders feel lighter.

Is this some kind of placebo effect or something?

“You forgive me?” he asks skeptically.

I suck in a deep breath. “Yes. I’m letting go of the past. As much as I can, but these lingering feelings won’t vanish overnight. I will try to be civil toward you, going forward. We won’t be best friends or even friends …”

“Acquaintances?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Guess that’s better than what I was before.” He smiles. Urgh. Stop being so Canadian with that smile.

“It’s one level up from where you were, and the jury is still out, you could be relegated again,” I warn him.

He holds up his hands. “I won’t let you down.

Maybe we can start again. I’m sure we are not the same people we once were.

We don’t really know each other anymore.

” There might be some truth in that. “Hi, I’m Pierre St. Pierre, Captain for South Dakota Devils, and the league’s top scorer.

Whose life has imploded and is on the brink of retirement,” he says, holding out his hand to me, which I eye suspiciously.

He's serious? He waves his outstretched hand for me to take. I am doing this for me, not him.

I take his hand and shake it. “Hi, I’m Issy Alessi, CEO of The Alessi Agency, Sports Manager to the stars, and I’m not going to let you retire,” I tell him seriously.

“I don’t doubt that, but it’s not up to you. It’s all in Bill’s hands and the lawyers.”