"Mercedes." Her mom shook her head in defeat and waddled to the door. "We'll talk about this later," she added before walking out.

"I swear that woman gets more juvenile by the day," Mercy grumbled when her mom closed the door out behind her. "Ugh."

"Y'all are so funny," I laughed, watching my friend flop down on her bed. "For real, Merc. If your life was a reality show, I would tune in daily."

"Uh-huh," Mercy mumbled before jumping to her feet and stalking over to the wall.

"Oh, you think you're so fucking funny, don’t you," she muttered to herself, grabbing the hardest, thickest textbook on her desk. "Let's see how you like it, prick." With that, she started hammering the wall with the hardback, calling out, "Molls, grab a book and help a bitch out here, will you?"

"Meh." Shrugging, I jumped off the bed, grabbed a book, and joined my friend in her attempt to drive her stepbrother/boyfriend batshit crazy.

After five solid minutes of non-stop book banging, Mercy's bedroom door flew inwards, revealing a furious looking Rourke in the doorway, and an amused looking Daryl standing behind him.

"You knocked my flat screen off the damn wall, Six."

"I did?" Mercy's eyes lit up in victory. "Well, way to go me, huh?"

Chuckling darkly, Rourke shook his head and stalked straight for her. "Oh, baby, you are so fucking dead."

In one quick move, Rourke threw my curvy friend over his shoulder and stalked out of the room, reaching up to smack her ass when she kicked and slapped at him.

"You know; I still can't decide if their relationship is just plain toxic or bordering on that weird-ass arrangement that couple had in those movies you made me watch," Daryl mused, strolling into the room. "And if it is, then they're both Christian Grey."

"It's probably a bit of both," I offered with a grin, pointing towards the wall that concealed our view from the very loud sex noises that started coming from inside of Rourke's bedroom.

"Jesus." Daryl shook his head in confusion. "Fucking psychos."

Laughing, I watched his every move as he sauntered towards me, looking like more than just a snack in a wife-beater and grey sweats.

"Is that my hoodie?"

I glanced down at the oversized sweater I had on and nodded. "Yeah, do you want it back?"

"I want it off you," he offered, closing the space between us and pulling me into his arms. "I want these baggy-ass jeans off you, too."

Shivering when his lips collided with mine, I fell into our kiss, feeling my heart literally explode in my chest with butterflies.

"I wish I looked better for you."

The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think them through or take them back.

"What did you say to me?" he asked against my lips, body stiffening.

"Nothing." Shivering, I kissed him deeper, trying to distract him from my verbal blunder. "Doesn’t matter."