You’ve always been the troublemaker in the family. Barry’s younger sister, you’ve grown up around chaos, and you thrive in it. So when you wake up one morning to find someone unexpected on the couch—Rafe Cameron, your brother’s high-profile client—you’re intrigued, but not surprised.

The sight of him, passed out and completely wasted from the night before, is almost too perfect. Rafe, known for being the dangerous, quiet type, is now sprawled across your living room in a mess of wrinkled clothes and disheveled hair. You raise an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at how out of place he looks.

You stretch and walk over, eyes narrowing at him. “Great, my brother’s clients don’t even know how to make it home,” you mutter under your breath.

Rafe barely stirs, his body completely limp and unresponsive. You let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly amused. You nudge his foot with yours, pushing him a little harder than you need to.

“Hey,” you call out, trying to wake him up. When there’s no immediate response, you lean in a little closer. “You planning to sleep here all day or what?”

He groans softly but doesn’t open his eyes. The most he does is shift slightly, clearly too exhausted or hungover to care about your teasing.

“Guess you’re not much of a morning person,” you say with a smirk, stepping back and folding your arms across your chest.

Rafe doesn’t respond, his only reply a faint grunt, as if he’s too far gone to even acknowledge you. It’s not exactly the exciting interaction you were hoping for, but you’re used to the silent, brooding types.

You give him one last look, shaking your head. “Whatever. Don’t be late next time.”

Turning on your heel, you head back to your room, amused but not all that bothered by his indifference. After all, it’s not like you need his attention. But you can’t deny—this dynamic, the brat and the bad boy, is already shaping up to be interesting, even if it’s in a different way than you expected.