A silence fell. Sophie was the one to break it when she said, “My cousin’s a twat.”

“He wasn’t well,” said Karla, ever the mother of the group. “You know that, Sophie. He’s getting better now.”

What she said piqued my interest. “Is he?” I asked.

Her eyes came to me. “Yes, he’s been adamant about making a change. I’ve never seen him so determined. There’s a new maturity to him. I’m sure you noticed it at lunch.”

“I did. I guess I’ve been wondering if it’s real.”

“It’s real, hon. I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like talking about him, but he had a very hard time of it last year. Everything got out of control. He realised he couldn’t keep living how he was.”

“What happened?” Alexis enquired, and I was glad she asked. I was dying to know and wondered if it had something to do with his mysterious girlfriend, Nicole.

Karla’s mouth formed a tight line. “That’s not my story to tell.”

Great, now she was keeping schtum. The more I discovered about Trev and the changes he was making, the more I wanted to know. And wanting to know stuff about Trevor Cross was a recipe for trouble.

“How about we crack open the nail polish?” Sophie suggested. “I’m in the mood for some hot pink, who wants to do mine?”

“I will,” I volunteered, glad for the distraction. Two hours and four bottles of wine later we were all merry and talking boisterously about which Viking we’d like to . . . see more of. It was only when I heard the front door open that I snapped into alertness. My nails were painted a shade titled ‘Mango Madness’ and it seemed apt for how I felt when Lee, Stu and Trev walked into the living room.

“This place smells like booze and acetone. You ladies sure know how to party,” Lee commented with a wry grin.

I sat up straight and my eyes connected with Trev’s almost instantly. He stood by the door, his attention leisurely moving over my form before returning to my face. He gave a nod of acknowledgment, but I didn’t return it. Couldn’t. I hadn’t expected him to show up, and now I was far too tipsy to deal with his presence in a ladylike fashion.

Stu sat down next to Andie, meaning I had to scoot to the edge of the couch. Lee slid in beside Karla and Trev perched on the armrest right next to me. I braced myself and stayed quiet. The others chatted while I tried not to do or say anything unwise, in other words—wine fuelled. I could sense Trev’s attention on me.

“So, what’ve you all been up to?” Stu asked.

“Having pillow fights and swapping sex stories?” Trev suggested saucily.

“Yes, Trevor,” Karla sighed. “That is exactly what we were doing.”

“Wishful thinking.” He winked and held up his hands.

“How did the game go?” Karla asked, and I realised they must’ve been off seeing a football match.

“We won 3-1,” Lee answered proudly and placed a kiss on her temple. He went into more detail but I zoned out, as I was prone to when sport was the topic of conversation.

“I like your boots,” said Trev quietly, nodding to my feet.

“Thanks,” I answered stiffly, not meeting his eyes.

“They look like something Santa would wear.”

“Everybody knows Santa’s boots are black,” I replied tersely.

“Not true. The world thinks he wears a red suit when in fact, his original getup was green. He could very well have worn brown boots.”

“Keep talking. I’m fascinated,” I deadpanned, and his expression warmed with humour even though I was being a salty bitch. He did always take a perverse pleasure in my sour moods.

“You need a lift home or anything?”

His offer took me off guard. “Um, no, that’s okay. Thanks.”

“You sure? I’m not drinking much these days so I’m well used to being the designated driver.”

I arched a brow and turned to look at him. “You aren’t?”

“Nope. I’m trying the whole ‘my body is a temple’ shtick.” He gestured to the fitted, long-sleeved T-shirt he wore. “You think it’s working?”

I couldn’t help my scoff. Trev had always been a zero-per cent-body-fat type. He never even had to try. I would say it made me sick, if I didn’t enjoy looking at him so much. I was the opposite. I only had to glance at a cake and I put on five pounds. I had to work out and watch what I ate simply to keep out of the obesity range. My sister, Paula, used to say I had childbearing hips, but they were cake hips and we both knew it.

Thoughts of my sister had a different sort of ache swelling inside me but I tried my best to push it aside. It was always a sore spot when any of my family wheedled their way into my head.

“I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that question already,” I finally replied. There was a sharpness in my voice I hadn’t intended, but it came out anyway.

“True, but sometimes it’s nice to be told.”

“Fine, your body is quite the temple. Happy?”

“Wine used to make you more agreeable. Now it just makes you cranky.”

“Maybe it’s not the wine,” I threw back pointedly and stood from the couch to address the room. “Ladies, it’s been lovely, but I have to get going. Same time next month, yeah?”

I didn’t wait for an answer and instead grabbed my things and fled the room. I was already out the door when someone caught my arm. I turned and Trev looked at me in concern.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked, his hand firm at my elbow.

I blew out a breath and shook my head. “No, I just . . . I can’t be around you, Trev. I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

His eyes moved back and forth between mine. He didn’t let go of me for a long moment then blurted, “I want another chance.” What?

I sputtered a laugh. “Are you high?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples. “Shit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean romantically. I want another chance at being your friend.”

I yanked my arm away and started walking again. “I’m too drunk right now for this conversation.”

He caught up to me easily. “If you’re too drunk for this conversation then you’re too drunk to make your own way home. Let me drive you.”