Page 13 of Stick Fight

I make a mental note of everything she just blurted out, each piece of the puzzle falling into place.

She can design wedding dresses.

Her almost-father-in-law Luc is a famous designer.

Her ex is a model in the business.

She protested, but only meekly.

That’s when I realize…a lot.

Shit…

“Maybe he didn’t want your dress to outshine any of his,” I murmur, running my fingers over the intricate fabric, tracing the embedded jewels. “While this is stunning, Gabby, I’m sure whatever you designed would’ve suited you better, and captured the eye of every designer in attendance.”

Gabby arches a brow, watching me.

I tilt my head. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but… is it really you?”

She exhales slowly, shaking her head. “You noticed that, huh?” A humorless laugh escapes her. “Yeah… Luc’s son is the apple of his eye. Poised to take over the empire someday. And Luc has expectations. Family is everything in his world. So is succession.”

As those words ping around inside my brain, I take a slow sip of my drink and decide to redirect. “I’m happy to hear you followed your dream and went to design school.”

Her head snaps up, her gaze locking onto mine. “You knew I wanted to go to design school?”

I grab a fresh wine glass, fill it, and hand it to her. “Yeah, of course.”

The way she looks at me, like I somehow shouldn’thave remembered, makes something in my chest tighten. Did she feel overlooked back in the day? If so, I’m damn sorry about that. I was busy with school and hockey, but tonight, it’s just the two of us, and I’m not overlooking anything.

Except her legs.

I need to overlook her legs.

She takes a sip, eyes flickering with a hint of happiness. “I went to the School of Fashion in San Francisco.” A small smile tugs at her lips, and it’s deep and real, helping me keep my focus off her legs and the damn way she’s stretching them out.

“Nice.”

But then, just as fast as it appeared, her smile fades. “That’s where I met Todd.” Her fingers tighten around the glass as she briefly closes her eyes. With a sharp breath, she shakes her head. “Nope. Not doing that. Not going there. Not tonight.”

She turns, swiftly closing her suitcase like she’s shoving the memories of tonight inside along with it.

“I’m happy you followed your dream too, Roman. Dad is still your number one fan.”

“And you…” I wink. “Right, not a fan.”

“I mean…”

I gesture toward the chair across from me. “Come sit.” I move the dress out of the way, take the tiny scissors from her, and she grins, shaking her head. “I’m well aware of the way you distracted me,Romeo.”

I laugh. “I know it’s over, but I just don’t want you doing anything you’re going to regret in the morning.”

“I’m not ruling it out. Cutting up that dress, I mean. I’m definitely not walking down any aisle.” She slides my drink toward me, mischief flickering behind her tired eyes. “Maybe I can convince you to put on the dress while I re-envision the design.”

Jokingly, I lift my arm and flex my bicep. “Too big, remember?”

Her gaze slides to my arm, but then it moves to my shoulders…chest. I know that look. I wasn’t wrong when I said this night might get…hard, and no, I can’t be her revenge fuck.

Right?

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