I unlock my phone, but my smile falls away when I realize it is a picture, but it’s not from Teagan. Sabrina has sent me a picture of her panties—colorful scraps of lace and silk spread out across a stark white duvet.

Sabrina: Which of these is the sexiest? Asking for a friend who wants to look her best when she returns to your family’s bar tonight.

Sabrina: If your answer is NONE, then I can tell my friend that too.

Sabrina: Or maybe I should model them to give you a better idea?

“Fuck,” I mutter. “She can’t take a hint.”

“Myla?” he asks.

“No, that journalist from last month. Remember the one who didn’t tell me she was in town to do a story on me until after I took her to bed?”

Jake’s eyes are wide. “I don’t think you told me about that. If you’ll recall, you haven’t been Captain Shares-a-Lot lately.” He extends a hand, palm up, for my phone. “Luckily, you’ve turned over a new leaf, and your brother Jake is here to help you clean up your messes.”

I give it to him, and he frowns at the screen before looking back at me. “Mind if I scroll through the history?”

I grimace. “What ever happened to boundaries?”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of history. In that case, I’m good.” He hands back the phone. “Was the story she did bad?”

I drag a hand through my hair. “No, it was more of the same. She described my house like I invited her in to do her little investigative report, but she really wasn’t saying anything everyone else didn’t already say.”

“You’re saying it wasn’t an exposé about how Carter the puppy hero takes home different women every night?”

I wince. “Was I really that bad?”

He lifts a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “Only you really know the answer to that.”

I think this over for a minute. We both know that, speaking literally, I was never a different woman every night guy. The real question is whether my actions were as despicable as Jake made them out to be the day we fought in Brayden’s backyard. Truth be told, I wouldn’t judge anyone for having a couple of regular bedroom partners or for taking home a woman from time to time—assuming everything’s consensual and the limitations of the relationships are clear. But maybe what upset Jake so much was that I wasn’t being true to myself. Before the warehouse fire, I always wanted more. And after? After, I didn’t dare want anything beyond any given moment. Because I didn’t believe I deserved it. Teagan makes me want more, though.

He watches me as I type out a reply. “What are you saying?”

“That my girlfriend and I have plans all weekend, but that I hope she enjoys her visit to Jackson Harbor.”

“Think that’ll do the trick?” he asks, clearly unconvinced.

“Does it really matter? By the time I’m done doing wedding stuff with Teagan, she’ll be gone again.”