She turns her head, looking genuinely perplexed. “Why? Because I would have yelled at you for it ten years ago?”

Six, six years ago, he doesn’t say, because he’s probably not supposed to be counting. So, he just shrugs.

“Jesus, Robbie. He was a kid back then.” She shrugs uneasily. “It’s not the same. He’s an adult. It isn’t like you’re some kind of a predator.” Her brows rise again. “Why do you have that look on your face? Do you think you’re a predator?”

Robbie averts his eyes.

Now, Megan looks exasperated. At least he’s used to her exasperation; it’s almost comforting. “This is just like you, to morally police yourself into being miserable. It’s just like this fucking ranch all over again. If you want something, it has to be wrong for you to want it.”

“Don’t start about the ranch, Megan, for God’s sake.” There’s something new in what she’s saying, but it’s so interlaced with a hundred familiar arguments that Robbie’s emotional reaction is instant.

Her hands flex on the steering wheel. “That’s not even—” She seems to cut herself off, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here on a call. The rest of it isn’t my business anymore, is it?”

She’s throwing words back at Robbie—words he shouldn’t have said. “I didn’t mean that. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

She waves a gloved hand at him. “Honestly, let’s just not.” She hesitates a moment, then twists to face him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “I just want you to be happy. Honestly.” A smirk stirs the serious line of her mouth. “He sure grew up, huh?”

Robbie can’t even look at her. “Megan. Jesus.”

“I mean, I knew it abstractly, but in person, it’s a different experience.” She lets go of his wrist.

Her words connect with something she said earlier, and Robbie zeroes in on the thought as they climb out of the cab and she grabs a canvas bag out of the toolbox of her vet truck.

“What do you mean, you knew it? And earlier, what was that about the internet?”

She laughs incredulously. “You mean, you haven’t seen pictures of him? He’s, like, an actual model. Don’t you look people up?”

Robbie is bewildered. “No? I don’t think that’s normal, Meg.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please.”

“Isn’t it a violation of privacy? Maybe you shouldn’t be doing it.”

“Don’t take the moral high ground with me. Now that I’ve planted the seed, you’re totally going to start doing it.”

Robbie glares at her, but he’s pretty sure she’s right. The idea that he could call up the images he’s been wanting to see ever since Lance mentioned they existed, with just a few swipes of his thumbs—

His steps slow as his imagination runs away with him. Megan snorts and sweeps past. Robbie has to rush to catch up to her.

“So,” she says crisply, slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder as she mounts the deck stairs, all business. “Tell me about my patient.”