There’s something about Lennox’s words that strike me. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I need to find something—a cause. Is that what I’m missing? Knowing I’m making a difference somehow?

“Or instead of a cause, we could always get her a man,” Dekker says.

“And that’s where this conversation can end,” I mutter.

“No, seriously. How long has it been since you last dated?” she persists.

All eyes wait for an answer as I give a panicked glance to my dad, who’s no help to me when he holds his hands up in surrender. His accompanying chuckle is just as bad.

“It’s been at least two years, hasn’t it?” Lennox asks. “Finn was the last guy you were serious about and—”

“And let’s not talk about him or have this discussion at all. Shall we move on?” I ask, my smile tight and insincere.

“No, we shall not,” Dekker persists. “You don’t date.”

“I date.”

“Dating a guy and going out compared to a booty call to heat up your sheets are two completely different things.” When our father groans and shakes his head, Dekker waves her hand at him and continues. “Are you going to argue that?”

“I’m going to argue that what I do outside of work is none of my nosy sisters’ business and leave it at that,” I say.

“I’m not knocking booty calls,” Lennox says. “God knows I’ve been down a time or two—before Rush, of course—but I used to think like you . . . and there’s so much more, Chase.”

If they didn’t know that tugging on the collar of my shirt was my “tell” that I was uncomfortable, I’d be tugging on it right now. But I will not let them see me sweat. Cannot let them. I know that will just egg them on.

“Can the let’s scrutinize Chase’s life portion of the program be done now? Please?” I implore this time with a more convincing smile.

“We’re adding a goal to your list,” Dekker says with a decisive nod.

“You’re not the boss,” I say with a shrug that just earns laughter from everyone.

“We’re adding a goal because we all know you well enough to know that you’re competitive, and if we lay it out there like this, you’re too Type A not to prove to us that you can do it.”

“Wow. Really, Dekk? You think I’m that easy to manipulate?” I ask, while secretly cringing at not accomplishing a goal assigned to me.

“Yes,” all three of them respond without hesitation.

“I’m feeling a little set up here.” I laugh to ease my own nerves. “I don’t adhere to peer pressure, let alone the Chase-needs-to-have-a-boyfriend plan.”

“That’s not the plan,” Brexton says.