I reached for the door again, but Tyler resisted. Just as I began a scathing review of his reluctance, he touched my cheek, looking down on me with concern in his eyes. “Ellie.”

I turned my face away from his touch. My new job and my new life were due to my stubborn pride. Not even being disowned by my parents could make me get my shit straight. My luck was better when I made my own decisions apart from external influences, but I found myself wanting to do things just to make Tyler happy—the sort of stupid, vapid shit Finley did when she liked a guy—things that definitely weren’t me. But then again, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Maybe Ellie two-point-oh would skip the bar to play it safe and hide from temptations at headquarters.

I frowned. “C’mon. O’Doul’s, mocktails, and people watching. We can laugh really loud like we’re drunk and slap the table a lot. No one will ever know.”

Tyler was still unconvinced, but I pulled him through the door anyway. A small group of barely legal women sat at a table by the door. A few couples were at the end of the bar near the bathrooms, and a few older local men were peppered across the bar stools. Tyler pointed to the table we had sat at when I was here with Finley and Sterling. The thought of Sterling made my skin crawl. He hadn’t intended to fuck me any more than I’d meant to be fucked when I went to his house that day, but Sterling was the embodiment of rock bottom for me, and I was okay with never seeing him again.

“Hey, you okay?” Tyler asked, sitting next to me. He patted my thigh, bringing me back to the present. I both loved and loathed when he touched me like we were that familiar, as if I belonged to him. Tyler was my new addiction, like flirting with fire on the mountain, loving the danger and waiting for the burn.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just look a little uncomfortable.”

“A couple of O’Doul’s and I’ll be fine.”

Tyler smirked. “Good luck getting some liquid courage with non-alcoholic beer.” He stood, leaving me alone to order at the bar.

I picked at the last bits of polish left on my nails. Finley had always been the one to make sure I had a regular manicure, even if she had to make an appointment from the other side of the country, but now that I couldn’t afford one, I sort of missed it.

My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out, seeing Finley’s silly, beautiful face. I pressed the red button for the second time that day and put my phone away.