Page 18 of Heart on Ice (Manhattan Mavericks #2)

PIERRE

I ssy is out on a girls’ night with Harper and some friends.

It was nice having my brother over for dinner together, catching up, drinking beers, and watching highlights of the season’s goals.

Which happen to feature me a lot. He left hours ago, and Issy still isn’t home.

Did she go out to her sex club? Like the other night.

I’m obviously cramping her style being here, it’s not like she can invite men over.

Urgh. The thought of watching some asshole walk into her home and her take him up to her room to fuck him while I am downstairs makes me sick.

I don’t have the right to be jealous. I shouldn’t be jealous because I’m supposed to be mourning the loss of my ex-fiancée, but instead, I’m obsessing over what Issy is doing and who it’s with.

That’s not right. At least she doesn’t hate me as much anymore and I can see she is attempting to be friendlier, which Frankston nearly destroyed this morning with his damn teeth and slobber.

I took a picture and messaged Harper to ask her to help me find a replacement pair of shoes, she sent me the link, and I bought them today. They should arrive tomorrow.

I hear a key in the door as does Frankston, and before I have a chance to stop him, he is jumping out of the bed, paws the door open, and rushes out.

“Frankie,” I call after him.

Shit.

I jump out of bed and rush after my dog, who is determined to make Issy hate me again. I hear a scream and then giggles and when I come around the corner, I see Issy on the ground and Frankston humping her while licking her face.

Fucking Frankston.

“What the hell, buddy,” I say, grabbing Frankston off Issy.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her. She waves my apology away.

“Let me grab him,” I tell her as I pull him away and instantly put him into air jail.

He gives me a bark of unhappiness, but he’s lost privileges for causing that scene.

“Frankie, I taught you better than that. Are you trying to get us kicked out?” He licks my face as he continues to wiggle in my arms. I place him on my bed and point my finger at him.

“Bad boy. You need a timeout.” He flops down on the bed and gives me a gruff woof as I slowly exit the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

“I’m so sorry about him, he’s not normally that enthusiastic …

” I start to say and stop when I see Issy has stripped off to her underwear and is currently searching through the fridge.

“Um, Issy?” Issy turns around quickly and screams. “It’s me, Pierre,” I say, holding up my hands.

Her brows pull together as those dark eyes narrow on me.

“What are you doing in my kitchen?”

Is she serious? “I’m staying here.”

She tries to search for that bit of information until she eventually finds it. “I forgot you were here. I’m starving, I want a bacon sandwich before bed,” she mumbles, turning back and looking into her fridge. Her words sound slurred as she sways a little.

“Are you drunk?” I question her.

Issy whirls around unbalancing herself, but she recovers quickly. “And what if I am?” she says, placing her hands on her hips.

A smile forms on my face. I haven’t seen this side of Issy before. “Guess that explains why you’re in your underwear unless …” I say, walking toward her, my hands landing on the granite of the island countertop.

“Your dog slobbered all over me. It was gross.” Then her brows pull together. “Unless what?”

Thank you, Frankston. My eyes run up and down her toned body, taking her all in. She’s wearing a sexy set of black lace panties and a bra. I can see her dark nipples pressing against the fabric, and they are hard.

“Unless you’re trying to kill me.”

“Kill you. How?” She looks at me with such confusion, and it’s adorable.

I walk around the island and slowly make my way over to where she is standing. “Showing me what I can’t have. By giving me an image that is going to be seared into my mind and every time my hand wraps around my cock it’s going to be this that I think about.”

Tension swirls between us. Issy swallows as her eyes rake over my body. I’m wearing nothing but a thin pair of pajama pants that leave nothing to the imagination as I feel myself thickening with each sweep of her eyes over me.

“I hate that you still look so good,” Issy whispers.

I run a hand down over my stomach cockily. “Yeah, princess, you like what you see?”

Then her brows pull together, and she looks like she winces in pain.

“Missy Jenkins …” she says, and I still.

The girl she caught me with that night. The worst night of my life, one night as well as many that I wish I could do over, and choose a different path.

“I see her smug face, her spit glistening off your cock. She looks so triumphant that she’s the one on her knees for you. ”

Shit.

There was so much going on that night that I never noticed what Missy was doing. “Issy,” I say her name, reaching for her.

She takes a step back from me. “That’s what I see every time I look at you. I can’t escape that night. It’s continuously on loop. I can’t forget that image or the feeling I had in that moment. It’s seared into my soul.”

Fuck.

I rake my hands through my hair. “You know I’m sorry about that.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch, it’s just what I see when I look at you. And I don’t know if that will ever go away.”

Her words are like daggers in my heart. I’m never getting her back.

She may have forgiven me, but nothing I do or say can erase that image from her brain.

Issy will never see me as anything other than that moment in her life.

The realization that the woman who still owns pieces of my heart will never want those pieces again is a crushing blow.

“I get it. How about I cook you up that bacon sandwich? Looks like you had a good night with the girls, and you’re going to need it. Go wash up and I’ll bring it up when it’s ready,” I tell her.

“That would be nice,” she says before staggering through the kitchen. I hear her curse and moan as she climbs the stairs to her bedroom.

It doesn’t take me long to make her the sandwich. I grab a bottle of water as she’s going to need that, and make my way up to her bedroom. The door is open, and when I poke my head into her room, she isn’t there.

“Issy?” I call out. The bathroom door opens, and she stumbles out of it, fresh-faced and in a black slip dress that seems as indecent as her underwear. “I have your sandwich.”

“Thank you,” she squeals before jumping into bed.

I walk over and place the water bottle on her bedside table and wait for her to get comfortable before handing her the plate.

She takes it and takes a massive bite of the sandwich and moans.

My dick thinks it’s for him, I remind him she’s not into us like that.

“This is so good,” she mumbles around her bite.

“Glad you like it. I’ll see you in the morning,” I tell her.

“Wait,” she says. “Come, sit, talk, while I eat.” She pats the space beside her. Confused, I take a seat and watch her eat. “I don’t normally get this drunk,” she states as she continues to inhale the sandwich. “I’m just stressed.”

“Because of me?” I ask.

She chews on her mouthful before answering me, “Yes.”

“I don’t mean to stress you out.”

Issy waves my words away. “I know. This isn’t your fault. It’s a me thing.”

“Kind of is a me thing, too. I crashed into your life like a wrecking ball. You didn’t ask for any of this, Issy.”

“You didn’t deserve what happened to you either,” she whispers softly before reaching her hand out to me. I take it, linking our fingers together. “I’m sorry I’ve hated you for so long. Didn’t mean for it to take over half my life, but it did,” she confesses.

Dammit, Issy, my heart. “You don’t have to apologize to me.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it.

“I should have done it for Dad. He tried so many times to get us into the same room, and I wouldn’t. I couldn’t do it even for him and now … he’s not even here to see us try,” she says, bursting into tears.

Shit.

I push aside her empty plate and pull her into my arms as she cries.

Issy is still dealing with the death of her father, and my being around is making her realize how much she’s lost. I never meant to cause her pain or make things worse for her.

I wanted to be here for my own selfish reasons, which was I can’t stop thinking about our kiss.

But now I see what she needs is for me to be her friend.

I can do that. I’m going to do that. I owe her that.

“Morning,” Issy says sheepishly as she walks into the kitchen and heads over to the coffee machine. “I’m sorry about last night. I don’t normally get that drunk.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. Hope you had a great night with the girls. Felix texted and said Harper was a little worse for wear this morning, too,” I tell her as I shovel eggs into my mouth.

Issy nods. She feels awkward now as she sips her coffee slowly.

I know how much she hates showing vulnerability in front of people.

All her life she has been the strong one so when that facade falls, she’s embarrassed.

“Guess, um, I’m going to get ready and head to the office.” She finishes her espresso and bolts from the kitchen.

“Issy,” I call out as I follow after her. “You don’t have to be awkward around me now.”

She chews her nail. “I cried myself to sleep in your arms, of course it’s awkward.”

“You were missing your dad and having a down moment, most humans do,” I reassure her.

“Guess I’m used to crying alone,” she confesses.

“Do you do that often?” I ask. She nods. Dammit, I feel for her. “You don’t have to cry alone anymore, you’ve got me,” I tell her.

“For the week,” she adds with a smile.

“Yes, for the week. Which reminds me, I should probably start looking for somewhere for me and Frankston to move into.”

Issy bites her bottom lip. “That might be hard when no one knows you’re here or that you and Kitty have broken up. If you need to stay a little longer, that’s fine. Also, you don’t know if you are staying in New York.”

My mouth forms a wide smile. “Really?” I’m shocked. I thought she was counting down the days for me to go. I’ve seen the app on her phone.

“Frankston probably wouldn’t cope well with another move.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I say.

“You have enough on your plate at the moment. Adding looking for an apartment while you’re in hiding might be too much,” she suggests.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s all good. Look, I must get ready for work. Fingers crossed Bill comes to the party today,” she says. I give her a nod, and she bounces back up the stairs.

The front door opens not long after Issy leaves. “Did you forget something?” I call out as Frankston runs to welcome Issy home again. Then I hear screaming, and it’s not Issy. I get up and rush into the foyer to see Violetta Alessi getting assaulted by my dog.

“Get off me, ew, stop licking me.” She squeals, trying to get away from Frankston.

“Frankston, heel,” I command, and he stops and rushes to my side.

“Pierre? What the hell are you doing in my sister’s home?” She looks around and panic falls across her face. “What did you do to Issy? Do I need to call the cops? Aren’t you supposed to be in Italy getting married?”

I guess Issy has not informed her sisters that I’m staying here.

“About that,” I say, rubbing my neck, “Kitty and I are no longer together.”

Violetta’s mouth falls open. “Did you leave her at the altar for Issy?”

“What! No. Why would you think that?”

“Um, because you are in my sister’s home with no clothes on instead of on your honeymoon,” she states as if I’m the idiot. “Why the hell are you in my sister’s home? She hates you.”

“She did. We’re friends now.”

“Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Violetta glares at me.

“No. It’s true. Call her.”

Violetta pulls out her phone and calls Issy.

“Why the hell is Pierre St. Pierre in your house with a dog?” I can’t hear what Issy says, but her sister’s eyes widen.

“I’m here because I needed to borrow a bag, but that is beside the point,” she argues.

“He says you’re friends. I thought we hated him.

” Violetta nods. “Fine, I’ll ask him, but this conversation isn’t done.

I’m telling Eve,” she says before hanging up.

Violetta folds her arms and glares at me.

“Issy said you would explain it all to me.” She impatiently thumps her feet for me to continue.

“Fine. Would you like a coffee?” I ask her.