“I know.” I rub my head. “I really do. It’s just . . . Oh my God, Tea, my life is a mess. I broke up with George, then Easton threatened to kiss me until I talked about us, and I pulled him into Jake’s office and practically demanded he do me against the wall.”

“I’m sure that was very difficult for him. Should we go down to Hallmark and get him a card?”

I didn’t even mention the worst part. I just realized I’ve been sleeping with a married man. Nausea turns my belly, and I push past her, down the hall, and into the powder room by the garage. I throw my purse on the floor and barely turn in time before I vomit up the little lunch I was able to choke down. I hear Teagan behind me, running water in the sink.

She sweeps my hair to the side and puts a cool, wet cloth on my neck. “Is this always your reaction when you have athletic wall sex?”

I spit and flush before leaning against the wall and closing my eyes. “Don’t know. That was a first for me.”

“Well, you’ve been missing out.” She clears her throat. “I mean, I’m assuming you agree? Was it good?”

I can’t look at her. I’m too afraid I might see what a mess I am reflected in the panic of her expression. “It was great until his ex-wife showed up.”

“Wait. Scarlett Lashenta was at Jackson Brews?”

She’s silent so long that I realize it’s not a rhetorical question and open my eyes. “Teagan, focus. She’s the bad guy in this story.”

“A bad guy with some really catchy tunes,” she says, then ducks her head at my glare. “Okay, okay. So what happened after the evil pop star showed up? Did she catch you in the act? Oh my God, was she pissed? Did you fight?”

I scowl. “You might be enjoying this too much.”

She snorts. “Says the girl who just had great athletic wall sex.”

“Teagan!”

“Your words, not mine.”

“We were in the office and heard Carter and Jake looking for Easton and saying she was in the bar.” My cheeks heat when I remember. I’d just had him inside me, begged for harder into his ear. And then I heard her name. “I did not handle it with grace.”

“Do I want to know what you did?” She grabs another washcloth from the vanity drawer, wets it, and hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I whisper. I leave the first cloth on my neck and dab the second on my sweaty forehead. “I told him we’re only good for getting each other off and stomped away.”

She nods as if this was a perfectly reasonable response.

“You’re the best, Teagan. And I’m not just saying that because you didn’t hide while I puked.”