Page 99 of The Sleep With Your Enemy's Sister Situation

Just like that, the shitty music was turned down, almost to nothing.

A soft and quiet murmur in the background.

Fiona looked at me again.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I let a moment or two get the best of me. You did nothing wrong, Fi. Ever.”

“Oh, I’ve done plenty wrong, Riff. But yesterday… I get it. It was unexpected for me too. I just took it differently than you did.”

“You know what happened that night,” I said.

Fiona swallowed hard.

“He had that painting from you,” I whispered. “All he wanted me to do was-”

“Riff, no,” she said. She shook her head. “There’s no need for that right now.”

“I’m just explaining what went through my head. How hard it hit me.”

“If this is a problem, then I can just figure something else out.”

There was my next opening to get out of this arrangement.

Not that I technically needed one.

Fiona started to stand but I wasn’t allowing it for a second.

My arms wrapped around her and I pulled her against me even more.

I basically took over the stool, which left her sitting on my lap.

Certain parts of our bodies lined up perfectly.

I felt her.

She sure as hell felt me.

“This can’t be a problem, Fi,” I said.

“Why not?”

I reached with my right hand and touched her chin.

I made her look at me.

“Because I like that you’re here,” I said. “Because painting always meant something to you. And I guess it’s kind of cool to see you laid back. And painting. Here. In my place. With me.”

“So you can complain about everything?”

“Yeah.”

I waited for Fiona to throw some more daggers at me.

Only she didn’t.

This odd moment fell between us.

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