Page 1 of Good Graces

1

WARREN

The kitchen is suspiciously quiet.

Which, on a Saturday morning, can only mean one thing: something’s wrong.

Usually, this place is brimming with energy. Namely, Liam Donovan stomping around like a golden retriever in human form, laughter echoing down the hall, dramatic gasps, lips smacking against other lips. The kind of noise that makes a single man seriously consider eating breakfast in his car.

But right now? Nothing. Just the low hum of the fridge and the sound of my spoon scraping the bottom of my cereal bowl.Weird. Maybe his girlfriend didn’t spend the night for once. Or maybe they ascended to some higher plane of coupledom where they no longer need oxygen. Or noise.

I barely have time to enjoy the peace before he’s strolling in, shirtless, blond hair a mess, grinning like he spent the night dreaming of himself. And he probably did.

My cousin is the effortless, easygoing type. He’s also shamelessly, ridiculously obsessed with his girlfriend, Birdie Collins. Practically worships the ground she walks on, which—whatever. Not my business. But if he ever starts calling her his “baby bird” unironically, I’ll have to stage an intervention.

He stretches, groaning like his body physically hurts from all the affection, then beelines for the fridge. “What’s up, big guy?”

“Nothing,” I mutter around my spoon.

I like Liam. He’s a good guy. Annoying, too chatty, constantly in my space—but decent. I didn’t think we’d ever end up as roommates, but last semester, my old apartment had a mold problem, and I needed out. My landlord was a jackass, my upstairs neighbor’s shower leaked into my bedroom, and I got sick of breathing in possible spores every night.

I suppose I could’ve moved home, but that was never a real option in my mind. Not because it wasn’t available to me—it was. A big, pristine house with polished floors and curated furniture. But I could never really call it mine.

Liam is only my cousin by marriage. Three and a half years ago, my mom married his uncle, Daniel Donovan. She moved us into his fancy house with the kind of furniture you aren’t actually supposed to sit on and a fridge stocked with wine you’re not meant to drink.

I only lasted a single summer there before getting my own place near Dayton’s campus.

And God, that summer was a strange sort of hell. Living in a stranger’s home, walking on eggshells, trying—no,needing—to be liked by this new man in my mother’s life. Not because I gave a shit about him but because I knew it would be easier for her if I didn’t make things worse.

Daniel’s a fine man. A nice man. But I knew from day one we’d never have any sort of meaningful relationship.What grown man is gonna want to bond with some other guy’s adult kid?I wasn’t some impressionable preteen desperate for a father figure—I was eighteen. A pseudo-adult. Too old to be folded into a new family like a lost sock.

So, I left as soon as I could. And I don’t think either of us was particularly upset about that. Maybe my mom was. But she has enough bridges to mend without worrying about the ones I burned.

Still, it makes Liam part of my family, in a way. Not in the way that matters but in the way that’s written into marriage certificates and tax filings. But the two of us are very different people. He grew up with wealth. He benefits from it, even if he rejects it. And that’s the thing about privilege—you don’t have to like it for it to still work in your favor.

Liam’s dad, David, belongs to the art world. My stepdad? Finance. The kind of money that makes more money while you sleep. And yet, for all the ways Liam and I differ, living with him is easy. Easier than I expected, anyway.

“Where you off to this early?” Liam asks, finally looking at me. His brows pinch together, taking in the club polo I’m wearing. It’s stiff, boxy—regulation navy blue with a stitched logo over the chest. A layer I’ll strip off as soon as I’m safely situated on the pool deck.

I sigh. “The club.”

Liam stares, blank as an empty canvas.

“The country club,” I say, slower this time. “The one I’ve been working at all summer.”

He blinks. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.How is he like this?“The Sycamore Club.”

“Oh.” He leans against the counter, eyes flicking up in recognition. “Right. My parents are members there.”

“No shit,” I say flatly. “So are mine.”

He snaps his fingers, pointing at me like that actually just clicked for him. “Right, right. That tracks.”

I shake my head, rinsing my bowl in the sink. “You’ve never been, have you?”

Liam scoffs. “Me? At a country club? What the hell would I even do there?”

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