Harper chips in then. “Thank God Mama still does most of the cooking. It’s only your weird desserts we all have to watch out for.”
Jake laughs. “What was last week’s again? That monstrosity you called banana split lasagna?”
“I stand by it,” Chase says. “Ice cream, pound cake, whipped cream, topped with cherries, banana, and avocado slices.”
Dylan rolls his eyes. “Why do you always think banana goes with everything? Next, you’ll be making tuna and banana muffins. Seriously, where do you even get these ideas from?”
“Tuna and banana muffins? I’m so making them for you, Dyl. And for your information there’s this guy on YouTube who comes up with the craziest recipes. The man’s the genius, not me.”
“You bake them?” Harper asks, not even trying to hide how incredulous she sounds.
Chase laughs. “No way. There’s a bakery downtown that makes anything you ask. I send them the recipes, and they work their magic.”
“I’m not sure ‘magic’ is the word I’d use,” Mia quips.
“For your information, Madison said it was the best thing she’d ever tasted.”
Dylan’s smile widens. “Seeing as Mad is home with Mama tonight, we’ll have to take your word for it she actually said that.”
“Without a bribe,” Izzy adds before she checks the time and exchanges a look with Dylan.
“Anyway, horses don’t sleep in, so we don’t,” he says, sharing a private look with his wife. “We’ll head back after this drink.”
“How’s the ranch going?” I ask
“Good. Great, actually,” Dylan replies, lighting up again. “The first foal born on the ranch is almost ready for auction. Quicksilver is gonna win the rodeo in a few years.”
Jake claps him on the shoulder. “Oh Dyl. You’re gonna cry like a baby when that horse leaves.”
We settle into our drinks. The three brothers gently ribbing each other about how Chase and Jake played tonight, in between bringing up stories from their childhood that have us all cracking up.
Then a woman approaches the table. Sleek blonde bob, long legs, and a confident smile. She slides a napkin with her number across to Chase. “I got everything you need, honey.”
He mumbles a thanks and waits until she’s sauntered back to her friends before dropping his head into his hands and unleashing a quiet groan. “This Chasing Love stuff is so stupid. The world is acting like I can’t find women who want to date me.”
Dylan raises his brows. “Yeah, you just have trouble keeping them.”
“Way to be a shoulder to cry on, Dyl.” Chase chuckles, lifting his head and looking around the table. “Tell me this attention is going to die down soon.”
“Not a chance,” Jake replies, shooting a look to Harper. The sparkle in her eye is unmistakable. The pair met when Harper was sent by her magazine to write a profile piece on Jake after his reputation landed him in trouble with the team.
Harper leans in. “The only way this is going to fizzle out is if the population of Denver’s single women stop seeing you as on the market.”
“What does that—” Chase starts.
“You need a girlfriend, man,” Jake answers.
“No way.” Chase’s expression turns serious. “This whole thing has made me even more determined to focus on football.We need to make the playoffs again, and we need to win that Super Bowl. It’s been too long since that trophy came home.”
“Hell yes, it has,” Flic chips in from where she’s collecting empty bottles at the next table. “This is our year. I can feel it. No way are we letting the Trailblazers beat us this year.”
Just then my phone hums in my bag. I dig it out expecting my parents or my sister, Elle, to be messaging, but it’s Ryan.
RYAN:I mean it, Serena. I’m not giving up.
I shove the phone back in my bag, pretending my chest isn’t aching with a messy cocktail of happiness for everyone else and frustration at myself. Jake and Harper. Dylan and Izzy. They’re actual life goals, and I’m a sucker for happy-ever-after, but sitting among them, it’s impossible not to compare. It feels like all my friends are getting married or having babies, whereas I’m still single, still dating the wrong kind of guys, still stuck with an ex who won’t take a hint.
I don’t need a second chance. I need my first.