MAX POV
The sun was shining. Birds were chirping. My skin smelled faintly like sunscreen and chlorine. Life was good—or at least it was supposed to be.
I was sprawled out on one of the deck chairs by Jason's massive pool, sunglasses on, shirt off, soaking in the rare moment of peace. Dylan was floating in the pool like some smug sea lion, and Jason sat under a parasol with a towel draped over his shoulders like a retired lifeguard. Ella, bless her hormonal, glowing soul, was sitting on a lounger with her feet in a tub of cold water like a tiny, pissed-off queen.
"Max," she snapped, not even looking up from her mocktail. "If you eat one more grape from my fruit bowl, I will end you."
I froze mid-chew, grape halfway to my mouth.
"I bought them!" I protested. "Technically, these are communal grapes!"
"I am housing a human," she said flatly, "so technically, everything is mine."
Dylan snorted and lazily paddled to the edge of the pool. "She has a point."
