“You have to say that, you’re my best friend,” I told her, giving her a playful shove.

“I do not.” Her eyes rolled toward the back of her head. “Maybe because I’m your best friend, and I love you unconditionally, I’m biased. But everyone sees it.” She pointed at me. “You don’t. You don’t realize that every single man in this town would jump over their grandmother’s corpse to get a date with you.”

I screwed up my nose, wincing at the pain that came from the gesture. I did not like that visual, nor did I agree with it. But it was definitely dangerous to argue with Fiona right then.

“I see you don’t believe what I’m saying,” she tsked, showing that we were close enough that she could read my mind, or at least my facial expressions. Or she knew me well enough to understand I would not believe that every man in town wanted to date me.

Because every man in town wanted to date her.

“It’s going to take a lot of work to unlearn the shit that Nathan reinforced inside of you. Shit that took root long before you left that fucker.”

She took another sip.

I took a gulp.

“I have faith that you will learn just how beautiful you are, how hot you are.” Fiona murmured. “How all of your weirdness only makes you more attractive.” She was saying the nice things in a softer tone now. “And I know that you don’t need a man to do that work. But…” She played with a loose thread on one of my expensive pillows that should not have a loose thread. “The muscular man who has been staring at you like a lovestruck teenager, who quite obviously finds your weirdness ridiculously cute, who wants to rip your clothes off and do very bad, very good things to you, and who is out there somewhere, defending your honor.” She pointed in the direction of my front door, gesturing wildly. “Now I do not think that a woman needs a man to defend her honor.”

She was on a roll now. Fiona talked fast and when she was on a roll there was no point in trying to stop her.

“A woman can defend her own honor. Or a woman can be without honor, if she likes it that way.” She winked. “But even I think his caveman stuff was pretty damn hot. And I only experienced it secondhand.”

“Yeah, it was pretty damn hot,” I agreed, my body tightening when I realized what I’d said. “I’m not supposed to admit that, am I?” I cradled my glass against my chest. “I’m a strong woman. I hate toxic masculinity and the damsel in distress stuff.” I put the heel of my hand to my forehead. “I’m a mess.”

“We all are, baby,” Fiona squeezed my knee. “But do not get yourself bent out of shape because for once in your life, someone wants to protect you without wanting anything in return.” She considered that. “Well, I’m sure he wants things from you,” she amended. “But things you will likely want too. And if you don’t want them, then I’m sure he’ll still do the defending of your honor thing because he just happens to be that kind of man.”