“Dad, Dylan’s making faces at me!”
“Dylan, stop bugging your brother.”
“Rye, watch the road,” Liam said, cringing in the passenger seat.
“Liam, relax, I got it. Dylan, Austin, be quiet back there or—”
“Rye, would you keep your eyes on the road?”
“I’ve got it! Relax. Dylan, drink some water. You’re in a bad mood.” Rye turned his head again, causing the truck to swerve into the next lane. “The bottle rolled under the seat there.”
“Watch the road!” Liam grabbed the wheel. “I’ll get him his water.”
At last, the park was upon them and Liam could breathe. He appreciated the lifts Rye gave him, but sometimes he wished Rye would skip a few nights and let him drive his own truck to their parents. Rye always insisted. Said it was the only real time they spend together lately.
Rye pulled into
