CHAPTER NINE

      “TEQUILA. STRAIGHT UP.” Brenna thumped her head down on the bar and missed the look Kayla sent Élise.

      “You heard the woman.” Kayla winked at Pete, the barman. “Give us the bottle and three glasses. This is girls’ night. We’re celebrating.”

      “I’m not celebrating. I’m commiserating.”

      “Who with?”

      “Myself.” Brenna lifted her head and dug her fingers in her hair. “Forget the glass. Pour it straight down my throat and do it fast. I want to be unconscious.”

      “That bad?” Kayla waited for Pete to fill the glass and pushed it toward Brenna. “So—are you going to tell us what’s going on?”

      “What makes you think something is going on?”

      “Er—apart from the fact you don’t usually drink spirits?”

      Brenna picked up the glass, knocked it back in one mouthful and then choked as it set fire to her throat. “That’s disgusting.”

      “It’s an acquired taste, and you obviously haven’t acquired it. As a matter of interest, why did you order tequila?”

      “Because it’s Saturday night, I’ve had a totally crap week and a beer wasn’t going to do it. When I see people drink tequila in the movies, they always look as if they’re having fun. I deserve to have fun, and as I’m obviously not going to have any naked-between-the-sheets sort of fun anytime soon, I thought I’d go with empty-the-bottle sort of fun.”

      “How can you have had a crap week?” Élise ignored the tequila and ordered a glass of wine. “It’s almost Christmas, business is booming and you’ve moved in with Tyler. This is your dream, no?”

      “If I didn’t love you, I’d kill you. Both of you. For interfering. For putting me in this position. And for the record, it isn’t my dream to have the man of my fantasies sleeping in a different bed with a wall between us.” Brenna pushed her glass toward Kayla. “Fill it up. Don’t hold back.”

      “If I don’t hold back, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

      “I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Don’t you dare ever interfere again.” She drank and felt the warmth spread from her throat down to her knees. “My life has been a nonstop disaster since you made me move in with him.”

      “Bren, you’ve only been living with him for a couple of days. Disaster can’t happen that fast.”

      “It can in my life. I’ve crammed a lot into those couple of days.” Brenna pushed her glass toward Kayla. “More.”

      “No.” Kayla pushed the bottle back toward Pete with a meaningful look. “What happened?”

      “I visited my parents. And because this place has a communication system more sophisticated than anything developed by NASA, they had already heard the happy news about my new living arrangements.”

      Kayla winced. “Oops.”

      “Oops doesn’t cover it. I had a lecture on all the reasons I’m stupid to move in with Tyler. I’ve given my mother your phone number. From now on the two of you can talk about it together and cut out the middle man.” She picked up Kayla’s drink and knocked it back. “That’s me, by the way. I’m the middle man. I’m the person everyone ignores.”

      “Merde, what have you done to her?” Élise leaned across and peeled the glass away from Brenna’s fingers. “Enough, or you will fall on your face in the snow.”

      “At least she only does that when she drinks. I do it sober.” Kayla gestured to Pete. “Can we have a couple of sodas?”

      Brenna lifted her head. “I don’t want soda. I want tequila.”

      Concerned, Pete handed her a soda. “Everything all right, Brenna?”

      “No.” She slouched on the bar with her chin on her palm. “My life sucks.”

      “That’s the tequila talking,” Kayla said hastily. “She drank it too fast. We’re fine here, Pete. You have a ton of people waiting for you down the other end of the bar. Don’t let us keep you.”

      “I’ve known Brenna since she was a little girl. I’ve never seen her like this.”

      “Everyone has known me since I was a little girl,” Brenna said gloomily. “Everyone has an opinion about how I should live my life, and everyone expresses it apart from me. Go right ahead, Pete. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. Then call my mother and commiserate. Or maybe call Ellen Kelly, and you can bypass the phone altogether. Beam it across the nation. Houston, Brenna has a problem.”

      “I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong, Bren.” Looking nervous, he removed the bottle of tequila and took himself down to the far end of the bar.

      Kayla grinned. “You scared him.”

      “Good. Maybe it’s time to shake people up a bit. I’m sick of everyone thinking they know who I am and what I need. I’m tired of being the girl next door.”

      Élise ran her fingers down the stem of her glass. “In that case you could go home right now, walk into Tyler’s bedroom naked and help yourself to some of the between-the-sheets sort of fun.”

      “I haven’t had anywhere near enough tequila for that, and anyway I’ve already embarrassed myself enough for one day.” Brenna sipped the soda and pulled a face. “This doesn’t make me feel better.”

      “You’ll thank me tomorrow when you don’t feel as if your head is being crushed by Thor’s hammer.”

      “I’m going home to have an early night. That way I won’t have to listen to the sounds of Tyler in the shower.” Brenna slid off the bar stool and swayed. “Maybe I should have stuck to beer.”

      “No, you’re fun after tequila.” Kayla picked up her coat. “I’m buying you a crate of the stuff for Christmas. I’ll walk you home.”

      “Thanks to you home is a few steps down the trail, and I can do that by myself.” She dragged on her coat only to find her friends on either side of her, like bookends. “What?”

      Élise slid her arm through Brenna’s. “We’re walking you to the door.”

      “You’re holding on to me because you’ll fall otherwise.”

      Kayla smiled. “That sounds about right. Come on, tequila girl, let’s get you home.”

      They crunched through the snow, Kayla sliding and grumbling, while Brenna wondered why she’d ever thought a drink with her friends might solve the problem.

      Her head spun, her limbs felt shaky and she was scrabbling in her bag for her key when Tyler opened the door.

      He was wearing a blue sweater pushed up to the elbows and a pair of jeans that made it obvious why her mother thought him dangerous. No woman in her right mind would look at him and see anything other than trouble.

      He