Me: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Sabrina. Did you never put my number in your phone? I would have done it for you if I hadn’t had to run out to catch my flight.

I blink at the screen until the name snaps into place with flight. Right. Sabrina was the reporter who came to do a story on the stupid viral picture. It was almost a month ago, right after I’d stopped accepting interviews, but she was ballsy enough to come to town and smart enough to catch me at Jackson Brews and pretend she wasn’t a reporter. We had a few drinks together, and I took her home. I didn’t even know she was there for a story until the next morning, when she scrambled to ask me some questions so she wouldn’t get in trouble with her boss. I wasn’t thrilled.

I add the name to my contacts in case she decides to text me again.

Me: Hey, how are you? I must have lost the number.

A lie. Once I found out what she’d come to town for, I wanted nothing to do with her. But a harmless lie. No need to tell someone I’ll rarely see that her lie by omission totally turned me off.

Sabrina: Well, good thing you have it now. So . . . this weekend. I get in Friday morning and will be there until Sunday. I’ll be kind of busy with family stuff, but I’m sure I could sneak away for you. I’ve been dying to see you again.

I feel like an ass if that’s true. She’s been thinking about me, and I barely remembered her? Jake’s right. It’s time for me to make some changes. Maybe this thing with Teagan is exactly what I need to kick my ass out of this rut I’ve been in.

Me: I’m flattered, but I’m seeing someone now. I’m sorry.

Sabrina: Is this because I didn’t tell you I was a journalist?

“Is there a reason you’re scowling at your phone?” Bethany asks, sticking her head in the door. “Do you need another minute, or can you talk?”

Shutting off my screen, I sit up and rub my eyes. “I’m fine. Come on in.”

She shuts the door behind her and takes a seat on the couch across from me. “Isaiah’s probably going to get discharged this afternoon.” She shakes her head. “I’m not really supposed to tell you that, but I know you’re worried about him.”

“Is that . . . good? Do you think they’re sending him home too soon?”

She shrugs. “It’s normal. Insurance doesn’t like to pay for any more time in the hospital than necessary, and he’ll be able to rest at home better than he can here anyway.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose between two fingers. Bethany worked with Max when she was still with the JHFD, and she understands why I’m so protective of Isaiah. “His girlfriend broke up with him.”

She arches a manicured brow. “Seriously? While he was in the hospital?”