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eyes in the mirror and saw her expression change from soft to wary.

      She’d tugged on his blue shirt, and he found it endearing that she’d be shy with him, that she felt the need to cover herself after the intimacies they’d shared the night before. But it didn’t surprise him, because he knew her and knew exactly how she’d react in any situation.

      “Brenna.” What was he supposed to say? This was new territory for him. He couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened.

      He had to deal with it. Usually, he had no trouble speaking his mind, but right now, he didn’t know his mind.

      He turned, wishing he had Sean’s smooth way with words or Jackson’s natural diplomacy.

      “You regret it, don’t you?” Her voice was flat, her arms wrapped around herself, giving the comfort he should have been offering. “You’re sorry, and you wish you could turn the clock back.”

      Did he wish that?

      He didn’t know, but the delay in answering condemned him.

      There was a flash of pain in her eyes, and then she turned away. Tyler ran his hand over the back of his neck, out of his depth.

      “Brenna, sweetheart, wait—”

      “For what? For you to find a tactful way to tell me you made a mistake? Forget it.” She grabbed her clothes from the floor and pulled them on, her movements ragged and uneven, her dark hair falling forward in a messy tumble. It didn’t help to know he was the one responsible for that glorious disarray. His fingers, his mouth, the movement of her body under his.

      He wanted to grab her, and he wanted to let her go.

      He wanted to strip off that blue shirt and feel her naked under him again and at the same time, he didn’t want to touch her.

      Never in his life had he felt this conflicted. Until now, his liaisons with women had been short and brutally uncomplicated.

      “Look, last night we talked about a lot of stuff. We were both saying things we’d never said before.” He raked his fingers through his hair, feeling clumsy. “I value our friendship. I don’t want to lose that.” He saw her pause in the doorway. Saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped the door handle so tightly, it was a wonder she didn’t wrench it from the wood. “We have a great relationship, and I don’t want that to change.”

      Slowly, she released the door handle. Breathed.

      “Everything has already changed.”

      And she walked out of the room without a backward glance.

      WHY HAD SHE told him how she felt?

      She wanted to rewind the clock and take it all back.

      Brenna stumbled through the snow feeling the cold and the snow seep through her clothing. Somehow she reached Elizabeth’s house and as she opened the door, she heard female laughter coming from the kitchen.

      “So I said to him, ‘you have to be kidding. There is no way I can get you an interview until—’” Kayla broke off as she saw Brenna. “Hi! You didn’t answer my text so I wasn’t sure if you were coming. I thought—crap, what’s wrong?” She was on her feet in a moment and so was Elizabeth while Élise stood, her hand locked around the pan as she stared at Brenna’s face.

      “Merde, what happened?”

      “Oh, your hands are freezing! Why aren’t you wearing a coat! And gloves?” Elizabeth took her hands and rubbed them between her own. “There is more than a foot of new snow out there, and the paths aren’t even cleared yet. Look at you—you’re covered in it.” She brushed it off gently and steered Brenna to a chair at the table. “Are you ill? Élise will make tea. It’s gentler on the stomach than coffee.”

      Élise gave her a look. “I do not know how to make good tea! I am not British. Kayla can make it.” But she looked worried as she watched Brenna sit down. “Merde, you are pâle comme un fantôme.”

      “She’s what?” Kayla looked at her, confused, and Élise shrugged.

      “Pale as a ghost.”

      “Then say ‘pale as a ghost’!” Kayla spread her hands in exasperation. “I can’t translate French this early in the morning.”

      “You can’t translate French at any time of the day. You have no idea how exhausting it is to always be in someone else’s language. I can never properly be me.”

      Brenna sat for a moment, numb with cold and misery, comforted by the normality of the interaction. These were her friends. And they cared. “I don’t want tea, thanks. Is Jess here?”

      “Snow day. She went across to check on Alice and Walter after all the snow we had in the night. Why didn’t you wear a coat, dear? That’s not like you.” Elizabeth brushed more snow from her sweater, and Brenna shook her head.

      “I—I wanted to get out of the house. I didn’t think.”

      “Ah! So Tyler was being annoying. This explains everything, I think.” Élise rolled her eyes, but Brenna didn’t smile.

      She couldn’t talk about what had happened.

      It was too private. Too personal.

      “Élise, you are burning those pancakes.” Calm, Elizabeth stood up, and Élise swore fluently in French and then English as she whipped the pan off the heat and glared at Kayla.

      “This is all your fault.”

      “Of course it is. Everything is my fault.” Kayla eyed Brenna and then turned to Elizabeth. “You remember those photos you promised me? The ones of Tyler as a baby?”

      “He would kill me if I handed those over.”

      “I won’t use them without his permission, I promise.”

      Elizabeth opened her mouth and closed it again as understanding dawned. “Why don’t I look for them right now? It might take me a while,” she said vaguely. “I have no idea where they are. You girls enjoy your breakfast. Don’t wait for me.”

      “I cannot believe I did that.” Disgusted, Élise scraped the mess from the bottom of the pan and put it in the sink to soak. “If one of my staff was that careless, I would fire them.”

      “It amazes me that your staff loves you so much.” Kayla sat down next to Brenna. “What’s happened, Bren? Is it your mother?”

      “No.” Brenna shook her head. “It’s nothing. I’m all right.”

      “Oh, please, you’re talking to us, not a bunch of strangers. We can see you’re not all right.” Kayla reached out to rub her shoulder gently, and the kindness of the gesture tipped Brenna over the edge.

      “I ruined it.” She choked on the words. “I did what you all told me to do and spoke my mind, but it ruined everything, and I want to put the clock back but I know I can’t and it’s done now, but I’ve lost my best friend, and I don’t know how I’ll cope with that. Not being able to talk with him, laugh with him, ski together—” The enormity of it hit her, and suddenly she was crying so hard, she couldn’t breathe, and she felt Kayla’s arms come around her, felt herself hugged and soothed, but all that did was make her cry more. “It’s over. For a moment I was the happiest I’ve ever been—” she hiccuped her way through the words “—and now I’m the most miserable I’ve ever been.”

      “I don’t understand.” Kayla stroked her hair and held her. “Why is it over?”

      “Me, I am completely confused.” Élise plopped into the chair next to her and squeezed Brenna’s leg. “Explain.”

      “I told him how I felt. And then we had sex. I had sex with Tyler.”

      There was a brief pause, and she thought she felt Kayla punch the air but when she

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