Page 118 of Not Made to Last

“Yeah!”

“We are!”

“Go for it, bud!”

“You better hit it this time!”

That last one is Dom, of course.

Max swings again.

Misses again.

Only this time, he swings so hard, he spins with the bat, turns a full circle, and falls flat on his butt.

“Nice try,” Rhys calls. “You’ll get it next time!”

“The fuck he will,” Dominic murmurs, and Rhys chuckles at that. Obviously, they’ve been getting along, and it’s as much of a surprise to them as it is to everyone. Everyone but me. I always knew they would get along if they just put their bullshit aside, because regardless of all the petty pranks and drama—their hearts are the same. Pure. Loyal.Good.

I jump a little when a giant duffle bag lands just inside the fence, then relax when I see Oscar’s head pop up from the other side, followed by the rest of him. He lands on the grass with a thud and loses balance, ends up on his side. Max goes up to him with his bat, starts beating him with it. “Yo!” Oscar laughs, but Max laughs louder.

“We have a door, you know?” I call out.

Oscar raises his arms, blocking the blows. “But it’s not as fun!” he answers, then points to the side. “Look, a UFO!”

“UFO!” Max spins, his nose and gaze at the sky, and Oscar takes the opportunity to stand, picking up the duffel before joining us on the porch. He dumps it beside Rhys, bowing and saying, “Your clothes, as requested, your Highness.”

Rhys says, “Thanks,” right before he shoves him off the steps. From what Rhys has told me, he’s been back to the house a fewtimes to see his parents, who go back and forth between here and Colorado. They’re still looking for a new house, but the market hasn’t been all that great around here, and since we’ve told Rhys he can stay for as long as he wants, they’re taking the time to find the right property.

“What kind of clothes?” Dominic asks.

“Ask Oscar. He packed them.”

Oscar zips open the bag, starts pulling out clothes, and suddenly, it’s a free for all to see who wants what.

Three boys, fighting over clothes to steal.

I tilt me head all the way back to see Rhys’s reaction, but he’s too busy watching Max still looking for a UFO that doesn’t exist.

I nudge him. “You see what’s happening, right?”

He grasps my neck, tilting my head back even more, and kisses me longer than what’s probably appropriate in front of an audience. He pulls away. Kisses me one last time. The shrugs. “It’s just clothes, Cheeks.”

“Is this Gucci?” Dom all but yells.

“Mrs. Garrett has a contact there. She gets a bunch of stuff for free. Give her your measurements and she’ll take care of it,” Oscar responds.

I turn to Rhys. “You didn’t tell me that. I want clothes.”

Another shrug from my boyfriend. “You talk to my mom more than I do. Give her your size. Max!”

I look over just in time to see Max turn to us.

“There’s no UFO, buddy. Oscar was tricking you!”

“Speaking of tricking, you’ll never fucking guess what Coach did,” Oscar says.

“Swear jar!” Max yells.

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