MISCHIEVOUS: a new adult romance

CHAPTER TWOMY HEART NEARLY LEAPS OUT of my chest when the big boom hits. When I can breathe again, I jump from my bed and run to the door, opening it up. I expect to find complete disaster on my doorstep, but instead I just find Jersey in a pile, wearing a cape from three Halloweens ago. It’s way too small, but does that stop him? Hell no. He’d still be in his toddler-sized Ninja Turtle underwear if our mom hadn’t thrown them out last year. Jersey has a hard time letting go of the things he loves.He falls into my room, his head landing on my feet. “Hi, Sister,” he says, looking up at me, his expression pure innocence and mostly blank. He almost never smiles.“What are you doing, Jersey?” “Being invisible.”I sigh heavily. “Could you please go be invisible somewhere else? I’m really busy right now.”“Can you see me?” he asks, getting up on all fours and dog-walking into my room. He crawls under my desk and pulls the chair in as far as he can, trapping himself behind the legs.“Nope.

CHAPTER FOURWE’RE SITTING IN THE WAITING room, the three of us: Jersey, Mick, andI. Any other doctor would probably punish us for being so late and either turn us away or make us wait until the last person left the place, but not this guy. Doc Harper is the most righteously awesome medical person I’ve ever met. He’s been treating Jersey since he was born and I hope he never retires. I’ll probably just show up at his house if he tries.Mick is sitting across the room from me, taking the chapstick from Jersey over and over and pretending to put it on and lick it off right along with him. I want to keep hating him for being nice and sexy at the same time, but that makes no sense. I’m not so confused that I don’t realize that. I also want to be mad about him being here, but he’s made that impossible. I’m starting to seriously doubt that he was mocking us earlier. What kind of guy bonds with a kid like Jersey and then goes to the doctor with him off the cuff like that? I pray he’s not a

I’M IN THE BATHROOM, SITTING on a closed toilet lid with my cell phone pressed to my ear. “Come on, come on, pick up the phone, Tea-Tea...”“Hello, sweetie cakes, what’s up?”I want to scream when I hear her say that. “What the fuck is wrong with all you people?” I say in a whisper-growl.“Well, that’s an interesting way to start a phone call,” Teagan says, a smile in her voice.“Since when did you start calling me sweetie cakes?” “Since today, I guess. You got a problem with it?”“No. But I do have a problem with everyone doing shit that I don’t expect, okay? So if you could just go back to being the old scowly grumpy Teagan for right now, that would be first-class. Seriously.”“Wow, who shit in your Wheaties?”“Good. That’s better. Mick shit in my Wheaties if you must know.” “Mick? Mick as in Rebel’s Mick?”“Yes. His little brother. The ass-kissing, hot sexy, liar, jerk face, … guy in my house right now, sitting down to eat dinner with my whole frigging family.That guy.”My mother’

She jiggles my foot some more. “I wouldn’t count on that.” She stands, but now she’s got my attention, so I sit up quickly.“What’d he say? Did he say something?” I bite my lip, wishing I didn’t sound so eager.“He said lots of things, but you’ve been too busy having a pity party to hear them. Come on down for dessert.”I flip over onto my side, hating that she’s right. “No. I’m too tired.Teagan’s coming to get Mick any minute. Tell him I said goodbye.” “You sure?” she says at the door.“Yes,” I say, not sure at all. I’m probably making a big mistake by being so rude, but my heart won’t let me leave my room. I’ve gotten my hopes up with guys before, but any of them that got close enough to be near my family never stuck around much longer after that. I’ve pretty much come to terms with the fact that I’ll never have a serious relationship with a guy until I’m grown and gone from this place. Thoughts of rooming with Teagan float through my mind again.I’m still fantasizing about what co

ON THE WAY TO THE club in Teagan’s car, I finally get around to asking her about her life. It should have been the first thing I talked about when she walked in my door thirty minutes ago, but I was too wrapped up in worries about what Mick would think about my outfit to think straight. I’m going to blame him for my messed up priorities.“So, what happened at the lawyer’s office?” I ask.“Oh, shit! I forgot to tell you!” She whacks me on the arm. “They loved your stuff! Said it was awesome.”“Really?” I warm with the compliment. “Seriously?” “Yes. They wanted to know what firm you worked for.” “No shit.” My jaw won’t close.“No shit, I swear.”“Man, that is so cool,” I say, picturing myself with a trophy or a medal. “I’m the stuff. The shizzle stick. I should be on Oprah. Except she doesn’t have a show anymore, that wench.”“Yes, you are, and you should. When I told them you didn’t work for a firm yet, they said when you do work for one to let them know. Also they said if you want som