I’m sitting on my window seat, looking across our side yard and over to the house next door.
At a certain boy’s window.
Chase Mackenzie has been my best friend my whole life. And it’s from this perch that I can see into his room. It’s from this spot that I’ve watched him grow into something more than just my childhood friend.
A couple of years ago, when my parents were getting divorced, he stepped up his game.
He became my confidant. My strength. And whether I’ve wanted him to be or not, my protector.
And today, he’s coming home after being gone for the last three weeks.
I take a fleeting look at his window before heading downstairs.
I find my dad—Danny Diamond, retired Kansas City quarterback, who reporters say will surely make the Hall of Fame—in the family room, just finishing up a phone call.
“That was Jay,” he says, referring to Chase’s mom, Jadyn Mackenzie, as he sets down his phone. “Don’t forget that we’re supposed to go next door for dinner tonight. Chase will be back, and I understand there’s an exciting announcement to be made.”
Make no mistake about it. I very much know exactly when Chase is arriving, and I have been counting down the days.
The hours.
The minutes at this point.
“You guys pregnant again?” I tease.
“It’s a bit too soon for that, Devaney,” Dad says, but his brilliant blue eyes sparkle at my stepmother, the award-winning actress Jennifer Edwards, who is sauntering in our direction.
“Could you hold her for a minute, so I can go freshen up?” she asks.
I’m not sure who her question is directed to, but both Dad and I offer our arms.
Jennifer gives my dad a flirty grin but hands the baby to me.
“Hi, sweet girl,” I coo, my voice going higher and my face lighting up. The second I do, I’m rewarded with a smile from my adorable five-month-old baby sister, Weston.
My unusual first name, Devaney, is the last name of a legendary Nebraska football coach. Weston was named after Westown, the small Nebraska town where my father grew up. We’re not sure who or what my brother, Damon, was named after. Apparently, Mom just liked the name.
Dad leans over and tickles under Weston’s chin, and we both make silly faces at her. I used to have very romantic notions about having a baby with a guy I loved. I certainly don’t want to be a teen mom, but just as I was considering having sex for the first time, Jennifer had Weston. She’s a super-happy baby, but I never had to live with one before. And let me tell you, adorable as she might be, she is a lot of work.
I love her so much though. And I’m really glad that Jennifer came into our lives. She and Dad met years ago, just after I was born. They had an incredible connection but didn’t act on it because, well, my dad was married to my mom. Fifteen years and two failed relationships later, they met again. It’s pretty romantic actually, their story. Especially the part where I took the engagement ring Dad had bought for her to the championship game. He won his third ring that night—after an incredible come-from-behind win—and proposed to Jennifer on the field as confetti rained down on all of us. They were married last June, and baby Weston came wailing into our lives this past March.
And when I say wailing, I mean it. The girl has got a set of lungs. And our whole family will do anything we can to keep her happy.
“She’s totally spoiled,” I say.
“I know,” Dad says happily before his phone starts chirping.
As he gets up to grab it, I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“You have no idea how much you’ve changed our lives, little miss,” I tell the baby.
We all used to have normal ringtones, but Weston screams bloody murder when someone calls. She even cries if the phone vibrates.
After practically going crazy, trying to calm her down, Damon decided to test out ringtones to see if she would react differently to any of them.
All of my friends make fun of me when my phone starts chirping like a cricket, but I’ll take their teasing over this baby’s screaming.
Any. Day.
My dad slowly sits back down on the couch, seeming shell-shocked.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, instantly worried, based on the look on his face.
“That was my agent, Carter Crawford. We just got an offer from a network. They want me to be an announcer.”
“College or professional?” I ask him, not really that surprised.
“Monday nights, so just once a week. What do you think?” he coos to the baby, but I know he’s asking me.
The baby gives my hair a tug while she blows bubbles of spit. It’s one of her new favorite pastimes along with wrapping her chubby, little fingers around a teeny strand of hair and pulling it so hard, it brings tears to your eyes.
“I think you’d be great, Dad.”
“Great at what?” Jennifer says, rejoining us, dressed and ready to go.
“Dad got an offer to be a Monday night announcer. It’s about time he got back to work, don’t you think?” I tease.
My dad has always been great, but he’s home all the freaking time now. Watching my every move. Which is completely different from the autonomy I get when I’m with my mom.
We all live in the Kansas City area, but we’re in a suburb by a lake while my mother and her new husband, the man she was having an affair with before she left my dad, Richard Rash—cue the dick rash jokes—live in the Country Club Plaza area. My mom and I have a slightly strained relationship. Her love always feels like it’s conditional. Which is why my dad paid her more money in the divorce so he would get full custody of my brother and me.
And although, sometimes, I would rather live with my mom, I do love it here.
And that might have a lot to do with the boy who lives next door.
Because of my dad’s high-profile career, my brother and I were told to keep the divorce quiet for months until my parents had a settlement in place. It was really hard to go to school and pretend like everything was okay when my world was falling apart. I can’t tell you the number of nights I snuck over to Chase’s room for comfort. Snuggled up with him. Slept in his bed.
My phone chirps with a text from him, causing me to startle at the thought that he must have known I was thinking of him.
Chase: Hey, I’m in the car, on the way home from the airport. What’s up with the big announcement tonight?
Me: You don’t know?
Chase: I’ve been gone for almost three weeks. I don’t know anything.
Me: Hmm. I figured they were gonna tell us you got drafted already. I can just see the headlines. “Phenom High School QB Gets Drafted in an Unprecedented Move.”
Chase: Give me a break. I’m not that good. And after being at camp, that’s very apparent. I have a lot of work to do.
Me: My dad says you are going to be better than him someday.
I can practically hear Chase rolling his eyes through the phone.
Chase: That is the goal. But so much can happen between now and then. You’ll see.
“I’m going to head over to the Mackenzies’,” I tell Dad and Jennifer as I take Weston to her Exersaucer.
When I set her down, she starts wiggling like she can’t wait. She loves standing up in that thing and batting all the rattles and toys, although, these days, she seems to do so with more intent. She’s also starting to babble random sounds. Dad is already convinced that she says dada, and she does but not toward him. I keep saying Da-ni, hoping that my name will be the first real word she says. I read that babies usually say dada or even doggie first. So, Dani should be easy.
I can’t help but laugh to myself as I walk out on the front porch and take a seat on the steps. Chase is the reason everyone but my parents calls me Dani. He couldn’t say Devaney when he was little, and no matter how hard his parents tried, he’d only say Dani.
In the videos of us when we were young, I couldn’t make the S sound very well, and I called him Chafe, which is kind of funny because although he’s been my best friend my whole life, sometimes, he does rub me the wrong way. Particularly when he thinks it’s his duty to protect me. I’ll never forget how mad I was when he was in eighth grade and I was a freshman, and he showed up at a party to rescue me from a hot senior quarterback who had been flirting with me. Granted, the senior had been drinking, and I was considering letting him drive me home.
Okay, so I might have been a little drunk myself.
Anyway, the senior got upset about Chase wanting to get me out of there, threw a punch at him, missed, and hit the fireplace instead, breaking his throwing hand. Which, crazily enough, meant that Chase got moved up to the high school team. Then, through a series of events where the team’s other quarterback got injured, Chase ended up leading the high school team in the state playoffs. We lost, but Chase’s athletic ability certainly made an impression.
This past school year, he and a junior shared QB duties, but three games into the season, Chase won the starting role. Everyone knows that as long as he stays healthy, he’ll keep that spot for the rest of his high school career.
A car pulls into the driveway next door, which causes me to leap to my feet.
Chase gets out of the car and grins in my direction, which, after three weeks apart, practically devastates me. He dressed up for the flight home, wearing a long-sleeved white linen shirt, which is hanging, untucked, over a pair of navy shorts. His normally short brown hair has gotten bleached out and a little shaggy, highlighting his tan face and blue eyes.
I run over, leap into his arms, and give him a quick peck on the lips.
“I’m going to sound like my grandmother when I say this, but I swear, Chase, you look like you’ve grown.”
He shoots me a wink, something he’s done since he learned how. In fact, I’m pretty sure he learned how just so he could wink at me.
“They measured us at camp. I’m officially six two and three quarters. And that was in bare feet.”
“Which means you’ll be six-three this season in your cleats, better able to see over the defense.”
If there’s one thing I know, it’s football. I have to admit, I’m jealous of my dad’s offer today. That’s like my dream job. To be on the sidelines or in the booth, interviewing players, breaking down the game for those who don’t understand all its intricacies.
“Exactly,” he says, pulling me back into a hug. “I missed you, Dani.”
I melt into his broad chest.
He kisses the top of my head, and it’s then when I notice it.
“Chase! You’re in a boot! What happened?”
“Just a slight sprain. The doc up there said it’s best to overreact on healing. I’m only supposed to wear it for a few more days and then it will be a distant memory. You want to go inside now, or do you wanna stand out here all night and hug me?” He gives me a sweet smile. “Not that I would mind. I missed you. You barely texted me.”
“That’s because I knew after a long day of working out, you’d shower, eat, and then go to sleep.”
“The camps and training were great, but I was exhausted every single night.”
“Told you,” I say, letting go of him.
“I brought you a present.” He picks his duffel up and slings it over his shoulder. “You can open it in my room.”
I figured the whole family would be inside, waiting to greet him, so I’m pleasantly surprised when we get to go up to his room alone.
He drops the duffel on the floor and pulls something out of a side pouch. “Two things for you,” he says, pulling me down on the bed with him. He’s got a wrapped package in his hand, but he leans over and kisses me first.
We’ve been friends forever, so it’s not like we haven’t kissed before.
But this kiss … it feels a little different.
It lasts a little longer than usual.
Probably because we haven’t seen each other in so long.
We’re friends.
Best friends.
We love each other.
And we kiss sometimes.
When he ends the kiss, he does what he always does after he kisses me. He pulls away and just looks at me with a goofy grin on his face. Like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar but doesn’t care because the cookie was worth it.
“I really did miss you.”
“I really missed you, too, Chase.”
“You know, your brother sends me texts all day and tells me what’s happening. He assumes I will read them all and will reply when I can.”
“That’s because my brother has no problem with carrying on a conversation with himself.”
“So true.” Chase laughs but then his lips flatten into a straight line. “But it means that I, um, have heard you’ve been hanging out with Hunter Lansford, and I was just wondering if he is the reason why we haven’t talked much.”
“I know you don’t like him,” I say because Chase has never really cared for the guys I date. Always says I could do better. The worst part is, in retrospect, he’s usually right.
I dated a guy named Matt over the last year. To say he broke my heart would be an understatement. I’m just grateful that I never slept with him.
Thus the breakup.
“He’s not like Matt,” I argue because he isn’t.
Matt was always getting into trouble. He skipped school. Drank a lot. Smoked. Rode a motorcycle. Totally had that bad-boy thing going on. And when your parents are going through a divorce, starting new relationships, and getting remarried … well, sometimes, you feel the need to rebel.
But Hunter is different. He’s a three-sport athlete—defensive end on our football team, starting point guard in basketball, and holds the school record for the shot put. I’ve thought he was cute since we were kids and had a huge crush on him, but he was dating Taylor Tinsdale since the seventh grade. It was a big shock to everyone when they broke up a month ago.
“He’s a good athlete, but he plays dirty, he slacks off whenever he can, and I just don’t respect him.”
“It’s not like we’re dating. We’ve just been hanging out.”
“Whatever. Anyway,” Chase says, holding out the gift.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know, but, well, just open it, and you’ll see.”
I turn the package over and slide my finger under the tape to break the seam apart. Then, I flip it over and remove the wrap. There’s a small box with a card underneath it.
“What’s this?” I ask, realizing Chase’s photo is on it.
He blushes and then shrugs. “I know it’s kind of lame, but they made it for me while I was at camp. Told me that if I kept working hard, things like this were within my reach. That I’d play pro someday. Your dad tells me and Damon that, but I always kind of thought he said it because, you know, dads have to say that sort of thing. It was the first time I’ve heard it from an unbiased source whose job it is to know what the league wants. It is—” His eyes get misty.
“Your dream,” I say, finishing his sentence.
“That’s right. I’ll be playing professional football, and you’ll be on the sidelines, covering the game.”
I can’t help but smile at him.
“And at camp, it started to feel like less of a dream and more of a possibility. Anyway, I want you to have it. My first ever trading card.”
“Shouldn’t you give it to your mom or something?”
“No. It’s yours, Dani.” He gives my hand a squeeze and nods toward the small box. “Then, I saw this and knew I had to get it for you, so you’d know it was possible, too.”
I tilt my head, wondering what could be inside. Wondering if he had a card made for me, but when I lift the lid off, I find a gold ring that spells out dream in a delicate font.
“They’re real diamonds,” Chase says. “I splurged, but it was just so—”
“Perfect,” I say, mesmerized by both the ring and its meaning. Not to mention the fact that Chase is the sweetest, most thoughtful boy I’ve ever known.
I’m about to say more to him when my brother bursts through the door.
“There you guys are. You’re supposed to get your butts downstairs. Everyone is waiting.”
Chase holds my gaze for a moment and then stands up and gives Damon a fist bump.
“It’s good to have you home,” Damon says to him.
I get myself up off the bed, and the three of us travel down the two flights of stairs to the family room.
“Chase!” his siblings yell out and attack him with hugs the second we enter the room.
His parents and my dad and Jennifer aren’t far behind. And neither are the dogs, Angel and Winger—puppy cousins that my dad got when the Mackenzies’ fifteen-year-old yellow Lab, Angel, passed away. Winger is the Mackenzies’ new yellow Lab pup, and Angel, named in honor, is our black Lab.
After the excitement of seeing Chase dies down, he’s hugged everyone and petted the pups, his mom, Jadyn—who I have called Auntie Jay my whole life but who isn’t really my aunt—moves to the front of the room and says, “Sometimes in life, in the midst of what feels like chaos, you are lucky enough to have things fall perfectly into place.”
“Just tell them already,” my dad heckles.
And it’s funny. Because my dad and Jadyn along with Chase’s dad—Uncle Phillip—have been best friends since they were kids.
“All of us here,” Jadyn continues, “plus Papa and Mimi, and Grandma and Grandpa Mac, are going to spend three glorious weeks on vacation together.”
“Where are we going?” her eleven-year-old son, Ryder, asks.
Knowing that Jadyn just finished another hotel remodel and recently sold her company, I’m picturing us all on a gorgeous yacht with an attentive staff of hot college guys, serving me piña coladas with fruit stuck on an umbrella, as we cruise the Caribbean islands—no, wait, Greece. Yes, the Greek islands. And the exotically tan-skinned crew will have sexy European accents …
“The Ozarks!” Phillip blurts out.
He and Jadyn are beaming.
What the heck? The Ozarks? The place my friends and their families drive to? The place old country stars go to put on family shows until they die? The place where there is a hillbilly theme park?
“Sounds glamorous,” I mutter.
“It will be,” Jennifer says seriously. Even she looks excited.
“We’re all staying in a gorgeous new house on the water,” Jadyn says, “and we’ll have the use of three brand-new boats and a bunch of wave runners. The house has every amenity. And if that’s not enough, we will have golf carts available to take us to the nearby resort.”
My dad stands up. He’s wearing a big grin. Clearly, this isn’t the first time he has heard about this because he is already fully on board.
“It’s going to be an old-fashioned summer. Like the kind we used to have when we were kids,” he says, spinning his finger from himself and Jennifer to Jadyn and Phillip. “Swimming in the lake. Waterskiing. Tubing. Roasting marshmallows every night.”
“And the best part of all of it,” Jennifer adds, “is that there will be no cell phones or other electronic devices allowed.”
“Wait. What?” I blurt out in disbelief. Currently, my phone is practically glued to my hand.
My dad nods in agreement. “Yep. We won’t need our phones. We will be too busy having fun.”
“Are we talking, everyone? Even you?” I say, looking pointedly at Jennifer, who is always on her phone, dealing with some sort of business.
“Yes. We are going to completely unplug. All of us.”
I rub my temple and try to wrap my head around this.
Chase sees my distress and says, “But what if there is some kind of emergency?”
“There are walkie-talkies and a GPS communication system on board the boats if we need to call for help. And the house has a landline,” his dad replies.
“What’s that?” Chase’s sister, Haley James, asks, scrunching up her nose.
She’s probably on her phone more than I am. She is a total social butterfly who will start her last year of middle school this fall and seems to have a new boyfriend every week.
“It’s a phone that’s hardwired,” Phillip clarifies.
“But! I’ll die!” Haley says frantically. “I’ll miss everything!”
“You’ll have so much fun, Haley, that you will forget about the boy drama here,” her mother counters. “Besides, it’s only three weeks.”
“I love marshmallows. I can’t wait!” Madden, the youngest Mackenzie son who everyone calls Crusher, adds.
I finally decide to pipe up, “I have cheer practice, and the boys have summer training. And we’re supposed to spend time with Mom.”
“We’ve spoken to your coaches and assured them that you will all continue your workouts during vacation and will return in top form. The house has a beautiful home gym, and there is a more commercial version on the resort property. And when I told your mother about the trip,” Dad says, “she and Dick—Richard decided to holiday in Europe.”
I guess that settles that.
“When do we leave?” Chase asks with a grin.
I look at him, surprised he’s on board.
“Tuesday,” his mom says. “And we have a lot of prep to do before we go.”
“But, Mom, this Tuesday?” Haley pouts. “We can’t. We absolutely can’t. We have to reschedule. It’s Kassie’s birthday party, and I can’t miss—”
“Sorry, honey,” her dad says. “We leave on Tuesday. And to add to the fun, we’ve decided to make it a road trip.”
“Just like we used to do when we were kids,” my dad says proudly.
Baby Weston starts to wail, causing Winger and Angel to howl, too.
I lean over and whisper, “I feel ya, girl. I feel ya.”
