Time passed slower than usual.

I walked around every day with Pete's words of redemption ringing in my ears. I heard them loudest when I would see him, of course.

I stopped making eye contact with him. I knew it probably infuriated him. I wasn't trying to, I was just trying to save myself the heartbreak of having to look into those eyes.

One day in catering, he was next to me in line and we both reached for the same serving spoon. Our fingers traced across each other's for a brief second before I pulled away and decided I could do without potatoes for one day.

Another time, I ran in to him when he came out of Regal's office. Our chests collided and I instinctively pushed back away from him. He was far to close to me.

I could see his chest deflate, since I was avoiding his gaze, and he pushed passed me. I stood breathless in the doorway and finally Regal's booming orders broke me out of the fog I was wrapped up in.

Seeing him was painful. Touching him, even if it was by accident, was painful like a sunburn on my skin. As the weeks ticked by, my mind wondered to who he might be having sex with…Who was he touching with those hands that I used to call mine? Who's ear was he whispering into when he kissed along their neck?

The thoughts often got to be too much.

I didn't have a way to turn them off. Instead, they got increasingly louder and more gut wrenching to think about. Pete licking up the thighs of a random stranger, Pete biting the flesh of a groupie's stomach, Pete trailing his fingers up her side….

I knew I needed to let it all go. Pete wasn't mine. He never was completely mine from the beginning.

"Marty Scurll?" I repeated, my eyes flying up from my laptop "Are you serious?"

"That's why we have to seize this opportunity," Regal folded his hands over his desk "And since Hunter is otherwise engaged, I will be taking you along with me over this little…meeting of the minds, if you will."

"You want me, to go to a bar with you and Marty Scurll?" I laughed "What could I possibly do to help you?"

"I am retreating back to an old tactic. Get them a little loose with some nice scotch, toss a few ideas around, and hope that you can reel them in on a deal that will profit both sides."

"And where exactly do I fall in the categories of scotch drinking and the fishing?" I raised a perfectly contoured eyebrow at him.

"You, my dear, will be the closer."

"The closer?" I laughed "I'm not sleeping with him, Regal."

"Bite your tongue!" his eyes grew angry "I am suggesting nothing of the sort. You are far less intimidating than me, no offense of course."

"None taken," I shrugged my hands up.

"You are there to help me seal the deal by backing up the things I say with the statistics and proof that I need."

"I'm going to look like a total nerd," I shook my head.

"Wrong," he stood up "You will be the business woman that you are. This will be your first lesson in how to broker a deal."

"Ok," I stood up in front of him "Count me in."

The bar Regal chose for my first endeavor in the brokerage world, was a bar frequented by all of the NXT roster.

It was a Friday night and the minute we walked inside, the little hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I didn't like closed in spaces where Pete might be. I didn't see him but that didn't mean anything.

I wasn't sure what to wear to my first big deal at a bar. After a little deliberation, I decided despite the setting that professional was best. I had on a white, sleeveless top that was flowy around the bottom and a black pencil skirt. I also brought a black blazer but peeled it off the minute we got inside the stuffy bar.

Within a few minutes, the door opened and Marty stepped through. I had seen him in passing during my time in the UK but never really talked to him.

"There he is," Regal stood up from the booth we were in "Put on your game face."

I stood too and waited while Regal shook his hand, then extended mine.

"Hello sweetheart," Marty smiled "I believe we've met before."

"A couple times, briefly," I felt my cheeks flush as he shook my hand with a strong grip.

We all three sat down, Marty beside me so he could stare intimidatingly at Regal.

I opened my laptop, all of my notes lined up in bullet points. Regal started discussing the ins and outs of a contract.

I immediately lost all train of thought when the door opened and Pete came through it, with Trent in tow.

Before I had a chance to avert my eyes, he caught them in a gaze that I couldn't break away from if my soul depended on it.

Pete absently ran his tongue over his lower lip, his hand pulling at the bottom of his tight black t-shirt. Trent shoved at him to keep walking and he did, his eyes still locked onto mine.

"Are you even remotely paying attention?"

Regal broke me out of it and I jerked my head toward him.

"I, I'm sorry," I stammered "Let me show you here…"

I turned the computer toward Scurll and relied on all the knowledge I had collected over the months, to help me not sound like a blathering fool.

The waitress sat down three glasses of scotch and I felt my stomach turn just smelling it.

"Shall we toast?" Regal raised his glass "To a hopefully mutually beneficial arrangement."

"I'll drink to that," Marty grinned, clinking his glass against mine and then Regal's.

This was the third one of the night and my head already felt like it could explode. Even though they had been evenly spaced out, I wasn't used to drinking it.

"Well, I hope we have given you a lot to think about," Regal sat up on his elbows.

"Indeed," Marty nodded his head "A lot to mill over."

Once again, as my lips danced along the top of my glass, I looked up at the wrong time.

Pete and Trent were sitting at the bar. Pete's hand was covering his mouth, his elbow propped up. Three empty shot glasses sat in front of him and his eyes were glued to the booth. They looked dark, almost angry.

Then I realized why. It was my proximity to Scurll, a man who I had absolutely no interest in at all. The fact that we were sitting beside each other, that we had both been crowded around my MacBook as I went over my points, that we were sharing scotch…Pete was doing his best to keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself.

He had absolutely no right to say a single solitary word and I would tell him so, if I had to do it.

We all three stood after a couple more minutes of idle chit chat, shaking hands again and Marty left.

"So?" I sighed looking over at Regal "How did I…?"

"Very impressive, especially considering that Dunne stared a hole through your head the entire time."

"How did you…?"

"I saw him come in and I can only imagine," Regal ran a hand through his hair as he reached for his suitcase "How about I take your computer back with me and you stay and enjoy yourself, hm?"

"With Pete?" I spat, as I handed it over.

"I didn't say that," he was quick to clarify "I believe there are plenty of familiar faces here with which you can associate."

"Ok," I nodded, tucking my curled hair behind my ears.

"See you on Monday…Great job tonight."

"Thank you," I smiled softly at him, his hand patting my shoulder as he left me standing alone.

Not for long.

"After all this time…"

I flipped around where I stood and I squealed in surprise.

"Mike!"

I wrapped my arms quickly around his neck and then pulled away, trying my best to stay balanced despite the flow of the alcohol in my veins.

"I was wondering when I would get to see you," I laughed, crossing my arms over my chest, in yet another effort to center myself.

Mike Rome and I had started out the same way. We both wanted to be in the business, had no clue how to do it and eventually made our way through some of the indie circuits. He had drifted toward announcing and interviewing, while I took the behind the scenes route. He was one of the sweetest guys I knew and I hadn't seen him in years. Despite the number of months I had been with NXT, I had yet to have an opportunity to talk to him.

"Drink?" he motioned toward the bar.

"How about I just sit with you?" I laughed, following him to two open bar stools.

I felt eyes heating up the side of my face but I chose to ignore them. What was going on was perfectly innocent and even if it wasn't, it was yet again none of Pete's business.

We talked and laughed about all our old times together. It was nice to catch up with someone who had been in the trenches with me in the beginning.

"Regal and Hunter have a lot of faith in you," Mike downed a shot of tequila and winced.

"How would you know?" I shrugged, reaching for the long island that I had been sipping on for close to thirty minutes.

"Word gets around," he reached for a bowl of peanuts on the bar top "They seem to think you're gonna help run the business before much longer."

"I'm just learning," I felt my cheeks blush again, damn it.

"Learning? From what I can see you've got it pretty well under control," he laughed "Making deals with prospective talent? Regal doesn't come around to people that easy. I'm pretty sure that he still hates me."

"No he doesn't," I laughed.

"Really? Has he ever even mentioned me?"

"Um…No?" I giggled.

"Exactly!" Mike pointed a finger at me "Proof right there!"

"Better than him mentioning you and it being bad," I toyed with the straw in between my fingers.

The whole right side of my face was on fire now, but I still refused to look.

"Valid point," he nodded.

Just then, a couple of girls walked by and I watched Mike's eyes start to wander.

"You should go talk to them," I grinned "They're cute."

"Yeah," he continued to watch them "Yeah, I might."

"You're not being rude, if you want to go," I insisted.

He stood up, tossing some money on the bar and winked at me.

"We'll do some more catching up, right?"

"Of course."

He left me and struck up a conversation with the girls.

I continued sipping on my drink, which I didn't really need to be drinking. My head was dizzy and the more I drank, the more numb my fingers became.

I glanced in Pete's direction, without meaning to, and he was watching me, his fingers tracing the lip of his own glass. The muscles in his arms, accented by his t-shirt, flexed sharply as if he were holding back.

Finally, I reached for my purse and asked the bartender to close out my tab. I passed him the company credit card. It felt weird buying all that scotch with the company's money but Regal insisted it was all part of the business. I guess it made sense.

I squinted, as I tried to write the tip down on the right line. Once I managed, I stood up and immediately leaned back against the bar.

Scotch was a very bad idea, that was true.

Long Island? Terrible, terrible mistake.

I dug back into my purse for my phone to order an Uber. I squinted yet again to type in my address when I felt a hand take hold of my phone and rip it from my grasp.

"What the fuck?" I gasped without even realizing it.

The alcohol was all starting to come together in a tidal wave of nausea and dizziness.

I looked up to see Pete holding my phone in his rough hand.

"Where do ya think you're going?" he asked gruffly.

"Give me my phone, Pete!" I reached for it but he kept it away from me.

I propped my back against the bar, unable to stand and fight with him.

"Not a chance," he shook his head.

"I was trying to order a ride."

"I can drive you to your hotel," he huffed, as if he were insulted I hadn't thought of that first.

We hadn't said two words to each other in almost two months. Now he wanted to take me in his car? Screw that.

"I'm not in a hotel," I groaned, trying my best to slide my blazer over my shoulders.

"What do you mean you're not staying in a hotel?" Pete scoffed, as he stared at the app on my phone.

"I have an apartment," I leaned forward, the words lingering in the air.

His head jolted up and his eyes darkened yet again.

"Apartment? When?"

"A month ago," I grabbed my phone at last, thanks to the distraction.

"Alone?"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I laughed out of frustration, tilting my head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Do you have a roommate, love? Not a hard question."

Love?

"Don't you call me that!" I pointed my finger dangerously close to his face.

He drew in a deep breath, turning his head to the side to gather himself. His cheeks puffing in and out.

"What's the address?" he finally grabbed my phone again "I'll type it in for you."

I rattled it off, against my better judgement, and his fingers typed it into the destination box.

"Good, you've done your good deed for the night," I wrapped my blazer around me "Now leave."

I grabbed my phone and stumbled toward the door.

"Absolutely not," Pete followed me out to the curb "You're not gonna get into a bloody car with someone ya don't even know!"

I supposed it was the liquid courage, or maybe the two months of built up frustration, or both but I had heard enough of his mouth.

"I will go wherever I fucking want to!" I screamed at him, our faces a foot apart at best "I'll go where I want, with who I want! I'll do whatever I want to do! If I wanna fuck some guy, guess what, Pete? I'll fuck him! If I wanna go out on dates, I will! I don't need your permission to do a god damn thing, you understand?"

The anger was laced all over his face but he was trying desperately to reign it in. I could tell mixed in with the anger was hurt but I didn't care. He needed to hurt. He needed to feel as broken as I did.

"Just leave me alone," I sighed in disgust, turning away from him "Go back to your little groupies."

"I'm not letting you leave here alone," he growled defiantly.

Just then, the car pulled up and an admittedly creepy looking guy rolled down the window to confirm with me. I suddenly wished that I had held my tongue until I got home. I might be mad as hell but I was still a little wary.

"Get in the car," Pete ushered me into the backseat and he slid in beside me.

The ride over was silent. I kept as much distance between us as possible. My head was still spinning and finally I leaned it against the window.

"Don't be smudging up my window, now," the driver kidded at me.

"She can do whatever she wants," Pete snarled.

Normally, I would have apologized for him but in my state I could only wrinkle my nose in annoyance.

We finally pulled up to my apartment complex and exited the car. Pete cast a menacing look at the driver, who wasted no time pulling away.

"Which floor?"

"First," I started stumbling toward it.

"You shouldn't live on the first bloody floor," he scolded me as he walked behind me "It's too fuckin' dangerous."

"I can live on whatever floor I damn well want to," I spat.

I somehow managed to get the door open and tossed my shoes across the living room, balancing against the wall.

"You can go now," I turned to him, anger seething from every inch of me.

He stood still while I ripped off my blazer and walked to the fridge for some water. I swept my hair up off my neck with a hair tie I found on the counter and headed toward my bedroom.

"Oh, you don't have a car do you?" I turned around and smirked at him.

"If you want me ta leave, then I'll walk," he answered flatly.

I saw his eyes looking passed me through my open bedroom door. The same bed that we had spent so many nights together lying in, was in plain view. I bit my lip and let out a sigh.

"You can sleep on the couch," I relented "But in the morning, Trent can take care of you."

"Fine," he nodded, walking closer toward the couch and me, by proximity.

I should have moved and slammed the door in his face, but I didn't.

He got closer and a little smile turned up on his cracked lips.

"What?" I scowled.

"I like it when ya look at me," he whispered "Not been much of that lately."

"You don't deserve it. At all."

"Didn't say I did," he whispered roughly "It's just nice that's all…"

"Goodnight," I continued to stare at him.

He nodded, his hand reaching out and brushing along my arm, his eyes staring into my soul.

"Don't," I growled.

I jerked my body away and slammed the door.