Page 15 of My Scorned Best Friend

“Cool,” I murmur, and we walk out into the San Francisco night.

It’s busy for a Friday night. Couples and families are milling about, finding things to do in this amazing city I consider my second home.

At least Ben opens the vehicle door for Clara, and she slides in across the seat. It causes her dress to ride up a bit and shows off her long, tanned and toned legs. A flash of a memory of her legs sliding along mine the one night we were together assaults my mind.

“Hey, buddy,” Ben says to the driver. “I’m riding shotgun with you. We have a stop to make before the restaurant.”

The driver’s eyebrows rise at Ben. “I’m aware, sir.”

I join Clara in the back and let the two of them figure out the logistics.

Before either of them gets in the car, Clara riffles through her purse. I’m not sure whether she’s actually looking for something or if she’s trying to avoid my gaze.

“Who are you bringing?” she asks.

I feel like that one sentence is packed with emotions neither one of us has been able to shed since that night.

“Sessilee,” I say. “She is a friend of—”

“Giulia’s. I know.” She nods.

Of course she does. Those two are never separated for that long in the gossip world of modeling.

“And Giulia is okay with it?” The judgment in her tone sets me back for a moment. This coming from the woman who’s dating my friend and teammate after she confessed she had feelings for me two years ago?

“She should be,” I half lie to both her and myself. If I wasn’t so desperate, I never would’ve asked Sessilee. “Giulia’s happily moved on. Plus, it’s just dinner. Not a date. I had to find someone at the last second so your guy could get a table at a good restaurant.” I bite my lip the minute I spit out how annoyed I am to be in this situation.

“Well, some men like spontaneity.”

I let a low chuckle escape. “Call it what you want, but you’d probably be eating out of a food truck if it wasn’t for me.”

“I happen to love food trucks,” she snipes.

Which I already know. We once followed a taco truck around all weekend when she came down here right before the season started years ago.

“You deserve better for a first date,” I can’t help but say because it’s the truth.

She locks gazes with me for a beat then spits out, “Don’t go pretending you know me.”

The partition in the car comes down before I can respond to her ridiculous statement because I do know her. I turn and look toward the front of the car and Ben’s head in the middle window.

“How you two doing back there?” he asks.

“We’re good.” Clara has a bright smile on now. Long gone is the scowl she wore when she was talking to me. “Just talking about Xavier bringing Sessilee to dinner.”

“Sessilee? I thought you’ve been dodging her?” Ben says right as we pull up to the curb of the hotel she’s staying at. She told me it’s a short trip, that she can’t stay for my game, which works out perfectly for me.

“I had to find someone.” I shrug, then I think better of what I told him. “Don’t tell her that.”

I open the door and stand, buttoning my jacket, then walk into the hotel bar to pick her up.

Sessilee might be even more attractive than Giulia, I think, as she struts toward me wearing a hip-hugging red dress. Her long blonde hair cascades in waves down her back. She really is gorgeous, and every man in the vicinity notices as they take small glances toward her when their wives or girlfriends aren’t paying attention. She grabs and holds the attention in any room.

Too bad she does nothing for me.

“Xavier,” she coos when she runs her hand down my tie. “You look handsome.”

“And you look beautiful. Ben and his date, Clara, are waiting in the car.” I hold my arm out, and she slides her arm through mine.

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