Tyler laughed once. “How did a billionaire’s daughter wind up taking action shots for a magazine? That’s kind of random, isn’t it?”

“I’ve told you about my parents, and I know you remember. You told Paige over drinks or whatever.”

“Does that bother you?” Tyler asked, amused.

“That you’re talking about my business? Or that you were with Paige?”

“Either.”

“That was personal. That’s not exactly bar talk.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I just figured she was your friend … and I was a little worried about you. I figured she’d know more than I did.”

“Paige is a sweet girl. She’s not my friend.”

“Friends with benefits?”

I glared at him, and he held up his hands, chuckling.

“Are you finished stuffing your face? It’s making me nauseous,” I said.

He stood, put a few bills on the table, and helped me up. He held me to his side, supporting my weight with ease and looking fairly sympathetic. “You okay?”

I blew an errant long bang from my face, even more pissed at myself than I already was, and if I was honest, pissed at Paige. She didn’t know how hard I’d been working, though. She wasn’t responsible for my new path; that was all me.

Tyler guided me to his truck and helped me inside. I tried to face forward and keep my eyes on the road, because riding in the back of the Audi on the way to Winona’s an hour before was rather brutal.

Less than fifteen minutes later, we turned onto Mills Drive. His truck bounced over the uneven asphalt and ice as he parked in a lot south of the station.

“Sorry,” he said. “We’ve got a short walk.”

A vent was bleeding white mist out of the side of the brown building, and I stepped down and looked across the street, squinting my eyes to try to see if the lights were on yet at the MountainEar.

“If you need to throw up, now is the time,” Tyler said, walking around the front to stand next to me. His thick arm hooked around my shoulders, but I shrugged away.

“I’m fine. Don’t baby me. I did this to myself.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Tyler stepped through the blanket of snow covering the broad gap between his truck and the station. We reached the back door, and with a quick twist of the knob, it was open. Tyler swept his arm toward the hallway ahead. “After you.”

I crossed my arms to ward off the cold as I walked inside. It was much harder to keep warm when I was hungover for some reason—another thing to be pissed about.