What I didn’t realize at the time is that every family is different. That just because one family might seem perfect doesn’t mean that my family is any less. I learned it’s okay to fight. It’s okay to have miscommunications. It’s okay to have falling-outs, because personalities will change, they will morph, they will grow. And as long as you’re adjusting, accepting, and always there for each other, it doesn’t matter if you have disagreements, because there will always be love.
My friend’s parents . . . they divorced when we were in high school. Her mom was cheating on her dad with his best friend. I can’t make that up. Just goes to show that sometimes what you think might be “perfect” is not perfect at all.
The Chance family is very much a depiction of not just my family but also my extended family. The ups and downs of aging parents, the siblings who are able to assist, the siblings who are trying to make something of themselves, and the siblings who very well might have been holding guilt for many years. What I wanted to show is that no matter what might happen to a relationship in your life, when family’s involved, it’s never too late to fix things if you have it in your heart to offer acceptance.
So this book is dedicated to my not-so-perfect family. To my dad’s not-so-perfect siblings. To my mom’s not-so-perfect brother and sister. To my two older brothers, who push me to try harder, to work smarter. To my parents, for keeping me honest, for showing me what true love really is. We might not have had a perfect childhood by any means, but one thing I know for sure is that it was full of love.
Aimee Ashcraft, my agent, thank you for testing my creative process, pushing me to dive deeper into each character arc, and for always believing in my ability to get the job done.
Lauren Plude, I still can’t believe you said, “Sure, six POVs? Let’s do it.” I still can’t believe I DID IT. But thank you for taking a chance on this story. It’s unconventional romance at its best.
Lindsey Faber, your patience and guidance were exemplary. I’m not sure I would have been able to get through three rounds of edits without your well thought out critique.
To all the bloggers and readers out there, I don’t even know how to express my deepest love for you. You take a chance on my books every time I release one, which is something I can never show enough gratitude for. Thank you for being the best fans a girl could ask for. You make this job so much fun!
Thank you to Jenny, for being my number one cheerleader. Couldn’t get through these crazy, chaotic days without you.
And lastly, thank you to my wife, Steph. You believe in me—that is the biggest gift you could ever give me. Thank you for holding down the fort when deadlines persist, for taking care of the business, and the family, and for always being my sounding board. I love you.
TURN THE PAGE FOR A SNEAK PEEK FROM THE SECRET TO DATING YOUR BEST FRIEND’S SISTER
PROLOGUE
BRAM
I have a stupid-as-shit crush on my best friend’s sister.
I know the exact moment it happened too.
It wasn’t when I first met her, no, that was when I first found out she liked to wear tube socks with shorts. Nor was it the second time I ran into her, because she was a sour, bitter girl with an attitude that struck me dead in the nut sac. But even in her scary rampage, I thought she was pretty and interesting, but a crush? Not so much.
No, it happened many times after the first. I was a senior, and she was a sophomore in college. A nervous sophomore, who forcibly ventured out to yet another frat party, captured by her friends, and held hostage to have a good time.
She was a fish out of water, and I couldn’t help but keep my eyes fixed on her as she awkwardly bumped into drunk assholes and tripped over empty beer cans, fixing her glasses that kept getting displaced from their perfect perch on her nose.
She was unlike any girl I had ever met. Strong-willed, obnoxious at times with her intelligence, cunning, and never too scared to back down. She intrigued me, held my attention, made me want to know what was spinning around in that beautiful head of hers.
I had to find out.
That night changed everything. Maybe it was the beer coursing through me, or the sheer curiosity in the girl who looked completely and utterly out of place, but I was drawn to her. I knew, in that moment, that I had a choice to make: either continue to sit with Lauren Connor and listen to her boring-as-shit stories, or remove my ass from the leather couch and say hi to Julia Westin.
Can you guess what I did?