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“Sure.”

His smile turned smug. “I give it six months. Tops.”

Something hot and furious flashed through me. Six months. He gave us six months.

Full transparency, in that moment, I wanted to march straight to Damon, drag him to the nearest courthouse, and marry him out of pure, unadulterated spite.

Which was obviously insane.

I was not a woman who made major life decisions based on petty revenge. I made spreadsheets first. Color-coded ones. But the idea of marrying Damon didn't horrify me nearly as much as it should've.

And if I took a fearless inventory of my feelings, I might've discovered that Kenny wasn't the only reason the idea appealed to me.

Which was precisely why I wasn't taking inventory.

Ever.

“Thanks for your prediction,” I said sweetly. “I'll be sure to give it all the consideration it deserves.”

I walked past him.

“Mikayla, wait.”

I kept walking.

“We need to talk about what happened between us.”

“No, we really don’t.”

“You can't avoid me forever.”

“Watch me.”

I pushed through the locker room door. And for the first time all day, I felt completely relaxed. Apparently, telling off my ex was more effective than a ninety-minute massage.

Who knew?

Twenty minutes later, I was walking across the ranch toward Damon's house. I'd changed into jeans and a loose white blouse, my hair pulled back into a ponytail.

My phone was in my hand. Naturally. I'd just finished answering an email when I heard the familiar hum of a golf cart approaching.

“Need a ride?”

I looked up. It was Dylan Lockhart. The youngest Lockhart brother. He wore a baseball cap backward and a grin that suggested trouble was his favorite recreational activity.

“Sure.” I climbed into the passenger seat. He took off.

“So,” he began.

I glanced at him. “So?”

“You have any brothers or sisters?”

The question caught me off guard. For one split second, I almost said yes. Deacon. I'd grown up believing Deacon St. Claire was my half-brother. For years, that had been part of my identity. Then my mother had detonated that particular foundation.

“Nope,” I said. “No siblings.”

“Huh.”