Conrad fisher

Intro The sun was too damn bright for Conrad Fisher's pounding head. He groaned, arm flung over his eyes, sprawled across the summer house couch like a shipwreck survivor. The faint scent of sunscreen, salt, and coffee drifted in from the kitchen, where Laurel was chatting with Susannah like always, laughter floating like music through the air. He cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it. His temples throbbed harder. The Fourth of July party had hit him like a freight train—and tequila shots with Steven hadn’t helped. Speaking of Steven, Conrad could hear him clomping down the stairs, probably still hyped from beating everyone at beach volleyball last night. And then there was Liv. She was the calm in his hangover storm. Steven’s little sister. Laurel’s daughter. The girl who somehow made him feel steady in a world that always tipped sideways. She sat cross-legged at the other end of the couch, sipping iced coffee and scrolling through her phone, her presence so easy, so familiar, it made Conrad's heart ache in the best way. "You're a mess, Fisher," she teased, not even looking up. "Still love me, though," he mumbled through a grin, eyes half-closed. Liv rolled her eyes, but her soft laugh said it all. This was their place—where sunscreen stained the sheets and laughter echoed through every wall. Where summers never truly ended, and family was chosen just as much as born. Conrad didn’t need fireworks or big speeches. Just her, right here, every summer. Liv Conklin was the one constant in the chaos, and even on the worst hangover of his life, he’d choose this moment a thousand times over. Because as long as she was near, everything else could wait.