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 t
o 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.”