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"Look, man. I don't know what she told you about us, but you deserve to know what you're getting into."

Ah. The classic ex-boyfriend maneuver.

I'm not bitter. I'm just concerned.

Sure, buddy. And cows fly first class.

"Appreciate the concern. But I'm good."

"She's not an easy woman to be with."

Any amusement drained from my face. "Careful," I cautioned.

"Everything has to be on her terms. Her schedule. Her career. At first, it's exciting. She's gorgeous and successful. Then you realize you're just another appointment on her calendar."

"Sounds like she's got a full life."

"That's the problem. She doesn't make room for anyone else."

My blood began to boil as I stared at a man who deserved to have his teeth shoved down his throat. I'd just spent hours watching Mikayla make room for everyone. A panicking bride. Two feuding aunts. A stubborn five-year-old. A goat with a criminal record.

And this asshole was claiming she didn't know how to put others first?

"Maybe she just never wanted to make room for you."

Kenny's smug expression vanished. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Maybe not. But I know what I've seen. A woman who works her ass off, loves her family, and takes care of people who don't even realize how much she does."

"You've known her for what? A few weeks?"

"Two years."

"You haven't dated her for two years."

"No. But I've watched her. And listened to her. Which, judging by this conversation, might be two things you never bothered doing."

His expression hardened. "You think you're different?"

"I know I wouldn't cheat on her with her best friend."

That landed. Hard. His chest puffed. "That's not⁠—"

"Save it," I cut him off, my tone leaving no room for argument.

He sighed dramatically. "I'm just trying to give you advice."

"Here's some for you," I offered.

He glared.

"Stop acting like an expert on a woman you were too pathetic to appreciate and too selfish to stay faithful to."

“Fuck you!” Kenny snapped.

And that was checkmate. Growing up with brothers, I’d learned to recognize the f-bomb for what it was: the sweet sound of someone losing an argument.

A wide smile spread on my face.