Loneliness creeps up on me like a jungle cat, slowly stalking me, then pouncing with a bone-crushing force that leaves me gasping for breath. My fingers scramble for my pocket, rooting around until I find my phone.

I dial each one of their numbers in turn, starting with the oldest.

Abram. No answer.

Byron. No answer.

Carver. No answer.

Panic has started to set in, and my thumb feels heavy as I try Donovan.

On the second ring, I finally connect.

“Zoey! Are you home?”

My brother’s question has me tearing up all over again, but I try not to let on how weepy I am when I respond.

“Not yet. Still in Pine Falls. Suddenly found myself missing Denver though and thought I’d give you all a call. How’s it been without me?”

“Hell. Seriously. Byron broke up with that girl he was seeing, the one who bartends at McConnell’s. And now, we’re all scared to get a drink after our set.”

I let out a watery chuckle at the thought of my four brothers, too awkward to ask for a beer because the bartender is glaring at them. They’re a talented crew, all taking after our dad, who works as a studio musician. The four of them have their own band, aptly called The Gunners. I refer to them as the Jonas Brothers, which annoys them to no end. So, I never plan to stop.

“Tell Byron to stop dating people at our favorite spots.”

Byron is a serial monogamist. He gets invested super fast—grand gestures, romantic dates, weekend trips. Girls and guys all over Denver have fooled themselves into believing they’re his forever. Unfortunately, the glitter of a new relationship wears off fast, and when Byron realizes they’re not the one, he ends it.

I know for a fact that he’s not trying to be insensitive. He really does want to find his forever person. I just don’t think he knows what a forever person looks like.

“He never listens,” Donovan groans. “We need you back to keep him in line. And to order our drinks for us.”

“Good to know you miss your beer buffer,” I joke.

“Come on. You know everyone falls to pieces without you.” His words make my gut clench in a weird combination of happiness and misery. “Hold on a sec. I’ll call them over.”

“You’re all together?”

“Yeah. Thursday is rugby night.”

Of course. My brothers usually play a pickup rugby game on Thursday evenings. I glance at the time on my phone, realizing it’s already after six.

Guess I cried for longer than I thought.

It’s not long before a chorus of male voices spill through the speaker, all of them talking at once.

“When are you coming back?”

“What’s Pine Falls like?”

“Why don’t you call more?”