Luckily, I didn’t let myself dwell on that. For too long, at least.

My thoughts strayed from Nathan to Rowan. Who was doing God knew what. He said he was going to come back. To what end, I did not know.

“Today was… a lot,” I said, taking a huge gulp of my wine.

Fiona was regarding me. “One way to put it.”

“I mean, let’s not even talk about the drama with Nathan last night,” I continued, taking yet another large sip. “But then Rowan got all…” I trailed off, thinking about the way his face had tightened in fury, the searing heat on my skin where he’d touched me. I blinked rapidly so I wouldn’t get lost in that memory. “I don’t even know how to describe all of that,” I shrugged. “But it was too much. It makes absolutely no sense.”

Fiona scrutinized me. “No sense?”

I nodded, watching the wine swirl in my glass.

“Yeah, he doesn’t even know me. And the few times he’s spoken to me, I’ve been taking his order or you know, blabbering on about Yellowstone sounding like I need to be medicated.” Embarrassment from that memory still burned hot.

Fiona didn’t reply right away, she just studied me, her lips pursed together, her eyes squinting in focus. “You’re being serious.”

My body should’ve been feeling light and relaxed as I’d drained my first glass of wine, but that wasn’t the case. I was still tense. Strung out. Especially with Fiona looking at me like that, without humor, with an intensity that wasn’t exactly characteristic for the normally lighthearted woman.

“Yes, I’m being serious,” I told her, getting up to retrieve the decanter from the bar. I’d left it over there like some kind of rookie, trying to lie about the volume of wine I would need to process the events of today. And last night.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she sighed the second I sat down, refilling both of our glasses.

Her harsh tone surprised me, as did her skeptical gaze.

“Now, sweetie, I love you,” she said, taking the glass. “I adore you. All of your quirks and your weirdness only make you a more incredible person. One of the most incredible people I know.”

“You’re saying a lot of nice things but in a mean tone,” I informed her, leaning back against the cushions, chugging more wine in an effort to relax.

I wasn’t in the habit of chugging wine. Especially expensive bottles of Bordeaux.

Fiona tilted her head, scrutinizing me. “Well, I think you need some tough love,” she hiked up a shoulder, her tone not gentle but not quite harsh either. “I never liked Nathan.”

“Shocker,” I muttered.

“I know I didn’t hide it that well, but I also managed not to punch him in the face.”

I bobbed my head in affirmation. “You did manage that.”

“I tried. My best. Even though I hated the way he treated you. Hated that he magnified all of your insecurities, that he erroneously confirmed to you all of the bad things you thought about yourself. That you still carry that. That you’re still blind to how wonderful you are.” Her eyes flickered over me. “That you don’t realize what a fucking babe you are.”