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Right.

“Yes.” I go to the kitchen to grab plates and utensils and set them on the table.

“How was practice?” Blake asks, as we each scoop up food from the plastic containers onto our plates.

“Great,” Chase answers, mouth full of fries. “I even got to pitch a few times. Did you see, Mom? James struck out three times, and he's our best batter.”

“I saw.”

“You got your old man's arm, huh?” Blake asks.

Chase bites down on his lip, giving me a cautious glance from the corner of his eye. “Yeah.”

“Ethan taught him well,” I say to let Chase know that he's allowed to talk about his dad around me.

I want him to always feel safe talking to me.

Blake takes my lead ignoring Chase's hesitation. “Your dad and I got real competitive when we were your age, you know?”

“That's not what he says.” Chase takes a large bite from a chicken wing. “He says you were easy to beat.”

I can't help but laugh at the genuine look of irritation on Blake's face.

“Well, he's lying! I won more than I lost. You saw my home run at the game on Saturday, right?”

He looks from Chase to me, as if making sure that I saw it too.

“Oh, was that you?” I tease.

Blake makes an exaggerated mad face and Chase laughs.

“I brought you food. Doesn't that get me any loyalty?”

I share a glance with Chase and shrug.

“Maybe I should take it back.” Blake grabs my plate and puts it on the table in front of him.

“Hey!” I reach across the table but can't get to it.

Chase laughs. I get up and walk around the table to get it, but just as I reach out to grab it, Blake picks it up and pulls it away toward Chase, who takes it from him and stands up.

He's cracking up as he holds it behind his back. I go around the other side of the table.

“Give it back.” I charge at Chase.

He laughs, hands the plate to Blake and runs into the living room. I keep charging him, pretending that I didn’t see the exchange.

He raises his hands in the air. “I don’t have it.”

I do a pretend search of his pockets and behind his back.

“I swear! Blake took it.”

I turn around. Blake holds the plate out, like he’s going to give it back to me. But I’m suspicious.

I approach slowly. When I reach out to grab it, Blake pulls it behind his back, winking at Chase.

I go on the side to grab it, but he just switches hands. I go to grab the other side and end up with both of my arms wrapped around his waist.