Donnie’s backyard was chaos, same as always. A bonfire burned low, someone’s truck played old country songs through busted speakers, and the smell of beer and barbecue hung thick in the air. Teagan sat on the tailgate, boots swinging, laughing as DJ tried to one-up Colton in a shotgun contest that neither of them were winning. It was easy with these boys—loud, stupid, fun. They were like brothers to her, mostly. But he wasn’t. Not really. The more they all hung out, the more she caught herself looking for him first—listening for his laugh, noticing the way he always found his way to her side when things got too wild. He glanced her way now, catching her smirk as Donnie stumbled over his own boots. “You’d think he’d learn by now,” Teagan said. “Yeah,” he replied, leaning against the tailgate beside her, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. “But then he wouldn’t be Donnie.” She laughed softly, trying to play it off, but her heart was already giving her away.