Page 33 of Made for Mayhem

I reached down and took off Junie’s glasses, then dropped onto the armchair across from the couch, elbows on my knees, hat dangling from my fingers.

I should’ve been figuring out what to say to the judge tomorrow.

How to make sure Junie stayed here.

How to make them see I was her family, too.

Instead, I sat there like an idiot, watching two Winslow girls sleep on my couch, and realized just how badly I didn’t want to lose them.

The girls dozed for several hours, Daisy slowly falling to the side and Junie inching up until she lay as the little spoon in front of her aunt. I threw a blanket over their legs and closed the blinds, trying to give them both the rest they needed.

I, however, couldn’t rest. My mind raced in a thousand different directions, trying to think of ways I could beg everyone to see how much Junie and I loved each other. How desperate I was to be a part of that little girl’s life.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, dragging me away from Junie and Daisy curled on the couch as if they had always belonged there. I backed down the hallway toward my room before pulling it out.

Beckett

Checking on you. How’s your favorite blondie?

Ty

Which one?

Beckett

Wow, that was easy to get you to admit. Emmy says the aunt is a 10.

She also says you were rude and weird. Story time, bro.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, cursing the fact that my sister was now engaged to and living with my best friend.

Ty

Not a story.

Beckett

Uh-huh. And I’m great at Pilates.

You don’t get weird for no reason. Spill it.

I hesitated, staring down the hallway toward the living room. I’d never told anyone about Daisy, not even sure what I’d say.

Ty

I met her once.

Beckett

…

What the hell does “met her once” mean?

Oh shit, did you sleep with her?

Ty

Jesus Christ, no. She’s 10 years younger than me.