TWO
SERENA
LIV:Squad did good!
SERENA:Hell, yes!
LIV:I’m staying at Jensen’s tonight. We’ve still got to agree on a song for our first dance. Tell me why I’m marrying a guy with zero taste in music?
SERENA:Because you love him!
LIV:What if I ditch him and you and me can live together forever? We can get ten cats!
SERENA:You’re allergic to cats.
LIV:True! See you in the office tomorrow. We’ve got the new routine to nail down. You grab bagels, I’ll grab coffees.
SERENA:Deal.
“What’s the weather doing?” Chase asks as soon as I’m out of my truck.
I look up to the sky, loving that he’s asked my favorite question. I’m still as passionate about meteorology as I was as a kid standing on my grandparents’ porch, watching the rotating wall cloud twist into its funnel.
The weather is beautiful, wild, and bends to no one. And it’s capable of rewriting an entire day in a heartbeat. A sunny morning that sends people spilling onto patios, a first snow that transforms grown adults into kids.
I take in the clear night and the cool edge to the air. “The pressure’s dropping. I think we’ll see a new weather front moving in over the next few weeks. You’ll need to start packing a sweatshirt in your gym bag soon.”
Chase chuckles. “You really are a weather nerd, Serena.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Yeah, can’t imagine a morning that doesn’t start by watching Weather with Serena,” Chase replies.
“Weather with Serena—bringing Denver’s weather to her family and Chase Sullivan,” I quip in an official weather-girl voice. I don’t really mind that my channel’s viewing figures are lower than a fifth grader’s “get ready with me” channel. It took me six years to get my meteorology degree with night classes, but I did it. I can read the weather radar like most people scroll TikTok.
Sure, I hold out hope of getting sponsors and becoming the go-to for anyone in Denver, and maybe even all of Colorado, to check the weather each morning, but for now, it’s enough that I get to start every day talking about something I love, even if my dad thinks I’m crazy for not pursuing a career out of it.
The truth is, I love tracking weather patterns and predicting the day ahead, but I don’t want to be the person standing in the middle of a storm with a mic in my face, reading from someoneelse’s script. And I definitely don’t want to swap cheer mats for a desk, writing reports for other people to read. My YouTube channel and cheer coaching for the Stormhawks are the best of both worlds, even if I barely make enough to cover my bills most months.
Chase nudges my side. “Shame you can’t predict game wins, too. Because that would be seriously useful.”
I laugh as we set off down the street. Trucks and cars line both sides. Fans and the team coming to the best place in the city to celebrate the win—Flic’s Stormhawks fans bar. The bar envelops me like a hug from an old friend as we step through the door. Aside from a few more license plates and some new additions to Flic’s confiscated merchandise shelf—a trophy line above the bar of anyone dumb enough to wear rival colors in her bar—it’s exactly the same place where I got my heart broken six years ago.The same place I’ve spent so many hours with my friends, I correct.
Chase’s hand is on the small of my back as we navigate through the crowd. A couple of the team slap a hand on Chase’s shoulder, and some fans raise their glasses in his direction, but he doesn’t break stride, and I don’t miss the way he’s careful to make sure I’m always right beside him, like looking out for me is as instinctive to him as breathing. Considering how Chase climbed the fire escape of my building last winter and came through my window when I was sick in bed with the flu, just to bring me soup, I think it is. Like always, my eyes move to the spot near the jukebox where we kissed that New Year’s Eve. There’s a tug of bittersweet nostalgia, but I shove it aside and shift my gaze.
Sure, there was a time I thought I loved Chase. I’d convinced myself he was my forever. I’d dreamed of the children we’d have and growing old together. Feels pretty stupid when I think about it now. Chase is my best friend. Nothing more.
Across the bar, Harper waves from our usual booth in the corner. Silky brown hair, petite, and glowing with the kind of happiness that only comes from marrying the love of your life. We knew each other in high school, but lost touch until Harper moved back to Denver a few years ago and took a job withSports Magazine. She’s aNew York Timesbest-selling author as well as a journalist now, after her first book in a vampire series was released earlier this year.
Sitting beside Harper is Mia the only person in high school who ever came close to snatching that best friend spot from Chase. Mia lifts her bottle in greeting. Her black braids are woven with gold and pinned into a high bun, and her cheeks shimmer with highlighter. Across from us, Chase drops into the seat beside Dylan, whose thick black beard and plaid shirt scream cowboy rancher.
“No handcuffs tonight then?” Dylan asks, shooting a smile at Chase, who groans and shakes his head.
Last summer, Dylan drunkenly bought some horse stock and made Oakwood a working ranch again. He’s a different person to the tight end I remember from his playing days. Relaxed. Happy. Which I’m pretty sure has everything to do with the woman sitting beside him—Izzy. Izzy’s dark blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail and she’s wearing a tank top that shows off strong shoulders from years of ranch work. They married four months ago and haven’t stopped smiling since.
“I’ll get us some drinks.” Chase starts to move just as Jake appears at the table.
“No need.” Jake shoves his brother back into the seat just as Flic arrives with a tray.