for r, it’s all about the essentials

“Here’s good,” Rhys Sterling said on Wednesday morning as his mother’s town car almost sailed past Owen’s building at Seventy-second and Fifth.

“You want to be let off here?” Oliver, Lady Sterling’s driver, glanced at Rhys quizzically in the rearview mirror.

“I know,” Rhys muttered. Only his mother would see the need to send him off in a car for a four-block ride. Lady Sterling was all about appearances, and it simply would not have been appropriate for Rhys to walk the four blocks up Fifth Avenue with his Tumi duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“Well, cheerio!” Oliver the chauffeur said in his British accent as he opened the door for Rhys. “Have a good trip!”

“Thanks!” Rhys grinned. He felt giddy. A week of no family, no responsibilities, and especially no foxhunts sounded fucking amazing.

Not to mention the, um, action plan?

“Hey man!”

Rhys whirled around and saw Owen standing outside the building, wearing khakis and a royal blue sweater.

“What are you doing out here?” Rhys asked as he set his bag down on the pavement. Immediately, the doorman picked it up, slung it over his own shoulder, and lugged it inside.

“I had to get out of the apartment,” Owen confessed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s Remington. Dude, I know he and my mom are dating, but they’re all over each other. He was feeding her scrambled eggs this morning.” Owen shuddered. “In his pj’s.”

Rhys noticed Owen’s strong jaw clenching. That must be hard for him. It was hard enough when he saw his mom and dad get touchy-feely. It always happened after two glasses of sherry.

“Anyway, the doorman will take care of your stuff. I’ve been dispatched to get supplies. Let’s go!” Owen began walking past the stately limestone buildings toward Madison and quickly crossed the street.

“My sister wanted us to stop here,” he explained as he stopped in front of the gold doors of Zitomer. Lady Sterling absolutely adored the legendary Upper East Side pharmacy.

“Happy holidays and happy shopping,” an older man in a maroon jacket greeted them as they walked in the door.

“I don’t really get why Avery doesn’t just go to Duane Reade,” Owen said, naming the grimy drugstore that was on almost every New York City block. Rhys knew why. It was because Avery loved anything that was classic. So did he. When he’d talked to her for the first time last month, on the terrace of the Carlyles’, they’d even found out they shared the same taste in old-school Frank Sinatra music.

They worked their way past the cramped aisles of beauty products toward the more traditional drugstore items in the back of the store. A woman with two cats on a leash stood frowning at a candle display, blocking their way.

“Excuse me, can we get through?” Owen blurted. The woman and her cats looked up in annoyance, but let them pass.

“Honestly, Avery owes me after this,” Owen called over his shoulder. Rhys blushed involuntarily at Avery’s name.

“I’ll be right back.” Rhys hurriedly shuffled further into the honeysuckle and lemon–scented store, wandering toward the pharmacy area in the back. A display of condoms was discreetly lined up underneath the Formica counter, their bright packages looking almost lewd next to the Emergen-C packets and Carmex surrounding the display. He leaned down and stared at them. He’d thought about the idea of losing his virginity ever since he came home from Hugh’s last night. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt just to have them on hand. Who knew what the condom situation would be like on a semi-private island?

“Can I help you, young man?” A wiry gray-haired pharmacist wearing a double-breasted white coat leaned over the counter and peered down his thick glasses at Rhys.

“Oh, I…” Rhys blushed bright red. The store suddenly felt a million degrees hotter, and he loosened his Burberry scarf. “I’ve got what I need, thanks.” He quickly slid a red-and-black package off the display and hurriedly walked away. He knew there was nothing embarrassing about buying condoms, but it still made him feel sort of pervy.

He spotted Owen’s shock of blond hair by the Bliss display in the center of the store.

“Hey man.” He squinted at the blue-and-white tube in Owen’s hand. Bliss Oil-Free Sunban Lotion. “That’s really good. It’s not greasy,” he said thoughtfully. He hated greasy, pore-clogging sunblock and had tried just about every brand before settling on Bliss, or occasionally Clarins.

“Thanks, Your Gayness. It’s for Avery.” Owen rolled his eyes and haphazardly threw a couple tubes in his red plastic shopping basket.

“Oh, she likes it too?” Immediately, Rhys imagined rubbing the lotion into Avery’s shoulders. He quickly shook the thought off. She was Owen’s sister.

“What’d you get?” Owen asked, yanking the condoms out of Rhys’s hand. “Magnums? Good for you. So, you’re really taking Hugh’s challenge seriously?”

“Well, I figured it’d be better to be prepared.” Rhys shrugged, trying to act nonchalant even though he felt anything but.

“That’s true. You know, maybe I’ll join you. I mean, not join you, but find someone too. I think it’d be good for us to just live it up this week. I mean, why the hell not?” Owen asked rhetorically. He flipped open the sunscreen bottle and took an experimental sniff. “Oh my God, this smells like girl. You really use this, Mr. Magnum?” he teased.

“I like it,” Rhys said defensively. “It’s better for your skin. You’ll be begging to borrow it by the weekend.”

“Well, I’m sure Avery would love a guy who uses fruity girly products, but—” Owen laughed but then stopped himself. He furrowed his blond brows at Rhys, as if seeing him for the first time. His eyes flicked to the condoms still in Rhys’s hand. “Wait, you’re not thinking about my sister, are you?”

“No!” Rhys said quickly. “Of course not.”

Meaning, yes.

“Good.” Owen’s tone was light, but Rhys knew his message was serious. Owen had always seemed protective of his sisters, and it was clear he didn’t want guys messing with them—whether said guy was his best friend or not.

“You ready to get out of here?” Owen asked, already making his way to the front counter.

Rhys trailed behind. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he kept thinking of Avery, in a bikini, on the beach, with the sunscreen making her skin glisten in that totally irresistible way. And suddenly Rhys felt very excited.

Better run and get another pack of Magnums!