Evan sighed. “Why do you go to these extremes? There’s a lovely place called Happy Medium. Find it. Live it. You’ll like it there.”

Monica had never been good at finding middle ground. She tended to be an all-or-nothing type of person. She came out of the factory that way.

“Mon, listen to me, okay?” Evan patted her knee. “I’m about to give you a dose of reality. Number one, because I love you. Number two, my girlfriend’s getting jealous. If she hadn’t been working tonight, I may not have been able to answer your distress call.”

Monica frowned around the plastic spoon and pulled it from her mouth. “What’s there to be jealous about? We’re like sibs. I’d never touch you. The mere thought is repulsive. No offense.” She’d met Evan on her first day at UNLV. He’d been impossible to ignore in a pair of rust-colored slacks and an argyle sweater. The other girls on campus had thought he was harmless—sweet, caring Evan and his silly sweater vests. He’d totally used that to his advantage, but Monica had figured out his game from the start. When she’d asked if he and his grandmother shared clothes, Evan had schooled her on American casualwear, then informed Monica that if her skirt were any shorter, he’d be able to see her uterus. They went out for a beer using fake IDs, became each other’s wingmen, and never looked back.

“None taken,” he said. “I feel the same way about you. But Heather’s a little insecure. It brings out these jealous rages. Last week, she thought I was flirting with a waitress and threw all my hair product into the trash compactor. Anyway, since tomorrow is our anniversary, you’re lucky this crisis happened tonight. The point is this—”

“Anniversary? You two have been dating for a red-hot minute.” Monica hadn’t met Heather yet, but she had no doubt Evan’s new girlfriend fit his exacting standards. Long dark hair, unnaturally orange skin, boobs so big they could poke someone’s eye out, and an IQ barely hovering above a cactus’s. A typical Vegas party girl.

“She likes milestones.”

“Did she bronze the used condom after your first time together too?”

He threw back his head, laughed, then sobered just as quickly. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we talk about your love life for a change? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have one. Which brings me back to my point. Get a love life!”

“I need to avoid him, not fuck him. Cal is…” She slammed the melting carton on the coffee table. “He’s everything that’s wrong for me.” And yet he was everything she craved. Handsome in an unconventional way, sexy, funny, smart. “And I am afraid. There, I admit it. I’m terrified I’ll wind up in the same situation.” Rock bottom. In a deep, dark hole she’d have to claw her way out of. Monica had no intention of finding herself there again.

Evan wrapped his arm around her, pressing her head into his shoulder. “You won’t,” he said against her hair. “You’re stronger now, smarter. You need to have a little faith in yourself.”

Follow your heart. That’s what Monica’s mom had told her before she died. But Monica’s heart was as fucked up and defective as she was. “I can’t. When I’m with him, I feel like the old me—reckless and out of control. It’s scary.”

“That’s a good thing. At least you’re feeling again.”

“What are you talking about? I feel things. I have emotions. You make me sound like a robot. Don’t you remember what a total mess I was back then?” She covered her eyes with one hand. “Ryan is the perfect guy for me. Why did I screw that up?”

“Stop it. He’s not perfect. Although he’s a nice guy and all, he’s the most boring person I’ve ever met. You’re so worried about past mistakes, but marrying Ryan would have been the biggest one you’ve ever made. Brynn and I made a pact that if you agreed to marry him, we’d do everything we could to talk you out of it. And if that didn’t work, we planned sabotage.”

She pushed out of his hold and scooted away. “You and Brynnie were conspiring against me?”

“Yes, and by any means necessary. Look, you’re young, and you’re reasonably attractive. There’s no reason for you to be alone. This Cal guy fires you up. I haven’t seen you this animated in years. Years. Treat him like a vaccine. Give yourself a little dose of the wrong kind of guy, but stay in control this time.”

Monica lightly punched Evan’s arm. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, and that’s the list you come up with? Young and reasonably attractive?”

“It’s time to get back on the horse, Mon.”

It wasn’t time to get back on the horse. She couldn’t be trusted in the saddle. It was safer to make a date with a glass of wine and her vibrator.

She hunkered in the corner of the sofa and came very close to sulking. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Of course you don’t. You never want to talk about anything that really matters. You’re so predictable, it’s sad.”

Monica’s gaze fluttered to his. She’d never heard that exasperated, disgusted tone in his voice before. Evan was disappointed in her. That hurt more than she cared to admit. He’d been her touchstone all these years. He knew everything about her and loved her anyway. “Any more grenades you want to lob my way tonight?” Her voice cracked a bit, so she swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Because I don’t feel shitty enough right now.”

He sighed and rested a hand on her calf. “I don’t mean to make you feel that way. But I think I’ve been coddling you too long. And I can’t do it anymore.”

Now anger crowded out the hurt she’d felt moments ago. Monica sat up and planted her feet on the floor. “Excuse me? You coddle me? I’m there for every nasty breakup you have. I’m a great friend to you. Who talked you down from buying those patent-leather Gucci tennis shoes last week?”

A long silence ensued.

“Oh my God,” she said. “You bought them, didn’t you? They have Velcro straps, Evan.”

“They were on sale,” he defended. “And you’re trying to change the subject. Again. This conversation is not about me, or my shoes, or my crazy girlfriends. This is about you.” He drew a circle in the air near her head. “You’re not twenty-one anymore. You’re not going to get stranded in Mexico, alone, penniless, and pregnant. You’re too smart to let that happen again.”

Shocked, Monica jerked her head back. Pain and humiliation shot through her, as if the wounds were brand new. The powerful emotions took over her body, expanded in her chest, made it hard to suck in air.

Monica jumped from the sofa and walked to the corner of the room, wrapping her arms around her torso as if she could ward off the past. She’d woken up that morning alone in Mexico—frightened and ashamed. She was used to being alone, even in a crowd, but that morning, as the sun shone through dusty motel windows, showing dark stains on the ancient green carpet, Monica had never felt so desolate. Now, closing her eyes, she pushed the pain down, shoved it away until she could breathe again. “We promised we’d never talk about that. Never.”

Dropping her arms, she lowered her eyes as she walked back to the coffee table. She shoved the lid on the carton and picked it up, along with the spoon. “It’s getting late, Evan. You should probably go.”

“Monica.”

She didn’t acknowledge him, but shuffled to the kitchen, numb and detached, like her own body didn’t belong to her. He followed and watched as she threw her spoon in the trash and stuck the carton in the freezer.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just tired of seeing you so miserable.”

Her head shot up. “What are you talking about? I’m not miserable.” Sure, her job wasn’t everything she’d hoped for, and since ending things with Ryan, she’d been a little depressed. But she wasn’t unhappy. Monica felt Evan’s warm brown eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “My life is structured. I’m in a healthy place.”