1 – Introduction

I just want to be naughty for once in my life. I think I'd be really good at it…

Now's as good a time as ever, right? I've been planning this for months. Meticulously going over every detail, each possible outcome, until I finally came up with a solution to, well, everything.

My good girl tendencies die hard, apparently. I'm a “bad girl” work in progress. It's fine. I can do this!

“Melanie,” I say for the millionth time. “I'm really sorry but I just won't be able to make it to volleyball practice this weekend. I know the squad had a whole St. Patrick's Day thing planned, but I promised my mom I'd come home. It's kind of a big deal for her since she likes to celebrate our Irish heritage, so…”

A half-truth. My mom likes to mention every now and then that her great-grandfather came over from Ireland, but that's about it. We've never done anything for St. Patrick's Day except the occasional corned beef dinner.

“Grace, you're going to miss out on so much fun!” Melanie says for the billionth time. “I know it's not the same as a frat party, but we were going to go out for green rootbeer floats after. Wouldn't that be awesome?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” I say, trying to sound as cheery as possible. “Those frats can get a little too rowdy, too. Don't want to get into any trouble.”

“I know, right! I'm so glad you agree. It's been really nice having you on the squad, Grace. You're a great example for the other girls and I know you'll do a good job of leading everyone once I graduate. I really appreciate you. I just want you to know that, alright?”

And… that makes me feel like a piece of shit, but what can you do? My plan's already in motion and I can't back out now. I mean, technically I can, but I'm not going to. I'm a bad girl work in progress, remember? Bad girls don't just cave every time they feel an ounce of remorse for what they're about to do, or what they've already done, or… I don't know.

I don't think they do, at least? I'm still trying to figure this one out.

“Well, I've got to finish packing, so… good luck, Melanie.”

“Thanks! You too, Grace. Byeeee~!”

I hang up the phone only to immediately receive another call. This one will be tougher to deal with, but I can do this. I've prepared for this. You've got this, Grace! Go go go!

“Hey, Mom,” I say, answering my phone.

“Hey, Gracie,” my mom says. “I know you won't be able to make it home this weekend, but your dad and I are doing a corned beef dinner and everything was on sale so I bought more than we could ever eat. I'm going to save you some, alright? How's volleyball going? You said you're doing extra training this weekend?”

“Yup,” I say, nodding quietly into my phone for all the good it does me. “The squad's going to do a sort of St. Patrick's Day themed training and everyone's going out for green rootbeer floats after.”

This is the truth. It's just not my truth. It's not the entire truth.

“Oh, fun,” my mom says, a smile in her voice. “I'm sure there's a few big parties going on too, huh?”

“I mean, probably,” I say, noncommittal. “You know I don't really do that kind of thing, though.”

“I know. You're a good girl, Gracie. I used to worry more. I wasn't sure if you'd be a wild teenager, but you were always good. Even now, too. Your father and I are really proud of you and we trust you so much. I'm not saying that you should do anything irresponsible, but if you're careful and safe and you happen to end up at a party where people are drinking, I just want you to know that we trust you and you can always call us no matter what.”

“I haven't really ever been to a party,” I admit to her. “If I did, I wouldn't drink a lot, Mom. I'm not legal yet, and we aren't supposed to drink during volleyball season, either. We all agreed not to.”

“Well, sure,” my mom says, probably grinning at me as we speak. “I know how college is, honey. I was a college student at one point, too. I know, that's hard to believe, but it's true. I guess I just want you to know that there'll be no judgment from me or your father if you do happen to end up a little buzzed or tipsydoodle or whatever you kids call it these days. If you ever need us to drive there and get you, just give us a call.”

“Mom, you're two hours away,” I remind her.

“That's if your father goes the speed limit. If you need us, I think we can cut it down to an hour, max.”

“Mom!” I say, laughing. “You were doing so well with the ‘be responsible' speech before.”

“Always go the speed limit, too, Gracie. Don't be like your father. He's such a bad boy.”

“Oh, sure,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Right. Of course he is.”

My mom smiles through the phone, a lilt of laughter shared between us. “Just remember to take some time for yourself, too. Volleyball is important, and so are your grades, and so is drama club, and so are a lot of other things, but sometimes we need to be a little selfish and enjoy ourselves. That's all.”

“I know, Mom,” I say, quiet. “Um, can I let you go for now? I was about to go study for a little. I've got a big exam in a couple weeks.”

“Sure, honey. You and the girls have a great weekend, alright? Call me later if you can.”

“I will, Mom. Thank you. I can't wait to try the corned beef dinner. Definitely save me some.”

“I'm going to make it green!” she says, giddy. And then, “Bye, Gracie.”

I take one final, deep breath before saying, “Bye, Mom.” And then I hang up my phone, put it on airplane mode, and stuff it in my pocket.

I step out of a quiet alcove in the airport and join the hustle and bustle of everyone else traveling during a holiday weekend. I'm glad I got here early because this place is absolutely packed. I dodge soon-to-be passengers in a rush, weaving left and right with my stuffed backpack and carry-on duffel bag. It's the same stuff I bring with me when we go on overnight trips for volleyball games, except without any of my volleyball gear this time.

A few minutes later and I'm there, standing outside of gate C34.

“This is our final boarding call for the flight leaving to Dublin, Ireland,” a calm woman calls over the intercom. “Please make your way to the front of gate C34 if you're going to Dublin, Ireland. Thank you.”

I pull my slightly wrinkled ticket from my pocket and hold it tight between my fingers and thumb. Joining the line to board the plane to Dublin, I anxiously look out the floor to ceiling glass windows at the plane outside. The livery's all green, with a picture of a four-leaf clover emblazoned on the tail.

Before I know it, I'm at the front of the line. Also the end of the line. I'm the last person to board today. The woman at the ticket scanner looks up and smiles at me as I hand her my ticket.

“First time traveling alone?” she asks.

I nod, meek. Bad girl work in progress, remember? I'm working on it!

“St. Patrick's Day weekend in Dublin is a great first solo trip,” she says, excited for me. “You're going to love it. Go and see the parade if you can. It's a blast!”

I smile, gaining a little more courage with each passing second. It will be a blast, won't it? I mean, this is what I've been preparing for for, oh, I don't know, the past six months? I don't quite have that bad girl spontaneity down yet, but my good girl tendencies really pulled through with this one. I don't think I have to be solely one or the other. I can be a little bit of both sometimes, you know?

“Thank you,” I say. “I'm really excited about it. I want to go to the zoo, too.”

Yup. I just said that. I'm the only girl in the world excited about going to the Dublin zoo during St. Patrick's Day weekend, I'm sure.

“The zoo's great!” she says, laughing. “Should be quiet this weekend so you'll have it all to yourself. Have fun, sweetie.”

She hands me back my ticket, having scanned it awhile ago, and I stride down the hallway to my waiting plane. A flight attendant greets me with a smile and a hello as I board.

“You should still have some room in the overhead compartments for your bag, but you might have to put it way in the back,” he says. “Do you want me to help you find a spot?”

“Nah, I got this,” I say.

See? Bad girl!

Totally.

Maybe not.

I do find a spot for my carry-on, though.

Just remember to take some time for yourself, my mom said. Sometimes we need to be a little selfish and enjoy ourselves.

Not sure this is what she had in mind, but hopefully she'll find it cute and funny when I tell her after I get back…

2 – Grace

My first day here was a blur of catching up on some sleep, being a huge tourist and gaping over every little thing, wandering through crowds of St. Patrick's, or I guess St. Paddy's, Day revelers, and also oh my gosh the zoo, you guys!

They had the cutest little red pandas that kind of looked like big raccoons except super adorable and cuddly and silly. One of them tried to pounce on a rock while standing on two feet and stretching his little paws high up in the air.

I died of a cuteness overload right then. But don't worry, I'm back! I've been revived by the frantic St. Paddy's Day celebrations going on.

The first day was wonderful and exciting, but this second day? The actual St. Paddy's Day? That's today and I'm one-hundred percent prepared to take full advantage of it.

Or I'm trying, at least. I may have underestimated just how excited Irish people get about St. Patrick's Day. Barricades block off the streets, all traffic coming to a complete halt as everyone prepares for the parade. I'm still trying to get my bearings, plus my phone doesn't work very well here, so it's a bit of an adventure, you know? I know the streets that I should be heading to, but it's just a little hard to get to them, plus I have to figure out where I am and where I'm going every few blocks, so, um…

The river, though. I know that one. River Liffey. If I follow the road alongside the river to the bridge up ahead then I should be at a good spot to see the parade. I would be if it were a little less crowded, but I'm tall enough to at least see over some people's heads so I think I'll be fine.

I maneuver my way down the tiny sidewalk next to the river down below, only a small stone wall between me and the riverside cliff. I peek over every now and then, watching the deep blue water meander slowly out to Dublin Bay. I got to see a little more of that yesterday when I checked out Dun Laoghaire Harbour, and I have no idea how to pronounce that but it was a definite highlight of my trip so far.

Dublin is a beautiful city, packed with history and wonderful architecture. I think that's my good girl tendency speaking again, but I did hop into a small “old man's pub” as they call it (literally someone told me that's what they call it) and ordered a pint of Guinness because that seemed like the proper Irish thing to do.

It wasn't even that bad! The stout was good, but that's not what I meant. I'm of legal drinking age in Ireland, so drinking is, um… not a bad girl thing to do here? I don't know. I just had one with some thick cut chips while listening to a raucous little band play a few classic Celtic songs with a contemporary twist.

No dancing yet, though. I don't know if I'm ready for that.

At any rate, the river. The walkway alongside it. Me. I'm heading to the parade, just minding my own business, when suddenly I hear something barking down below.

I can't go very fast, or very far, so I stop for a few and peek over the small stone wall again to see what's barking up at me. And, oh my gosh, the most adorable little family of otters is playing in the water right below me. Mama Otter splashes her little babies and the two babies swim in frenzied circles, chasing each other. Papa Otter swims off to the side, barking loudly at everyone, but not really doing much to stop it. I don't know if he's cheering them on, or telling them to stop being so feckin' wild, or whatever else Irish otters might say.

It's cute, it's adorable, and I want to take a picture. I reach for my pocket to grab my phone, but as soon as I pull it out someone jostles me from the side. My phone starts to teeter in my hand, on the verge of toppling over the wall and falling into the water. Without thinking, I reach for it fast with my other hand, but, um…

So, the stone wall alongside the river's edge isn't exactly the tallest, and there's a long ways to go if I fall over.

Which, you know, I'm doing. I'm about to do. I have my phone firmly held in both hands, so that's safe for all the good it'll do me, but my upper body is decidedly about to crash over the stone wall, bringing my lower body along with it, and I sure hope those otters like company because I'll be joining them any second now…

Someone wraps their arms around my waist and hoists me back over the stone wall before I take a dive into the water. I stand there, eyes and mouth wide open, gaping at what just almost happened.

As if he's the hero from one of my drama club plays, a brown-haired bad boy with streaks of dark red in his hair eyes me up and down, takes my now free hand (the other gripping tight to my phone), and spins me in a circle.

“Looks like you're doing fine,” he says with a nod of approval followed by a devilish wink. “Next time you want to take a dip in the river let me know. I've a better spot to jump in.”

3 – Dare

This girl's a real looker, yeah? The problem's that I saved her life and now she's looking at me like I'm the devil in a church and I'll be the sole reason God smites the entire place with a flashy bolt of thunder and lightning.

Might not have actually saved her life. A dip in the river never killed anyone, though I'm not too sure I'd want to tumble into Liffey wearing what she's got on. It's a little chill out for it, too. Maybe in a few months when the summer sets us up with a bit of heat, and then I'd spend every waking moment trying to convince her to put on her skimpiest swimsuit and join me for some alone time near the water if you get what I mean.

This flower of a girl stares up at me with a hint of that summer heat in her eyes and a scowl curling her lips. I stare right back at her, tossing a bit of the old shimmer and shine her way, a smirk and a wink along with it.

She's tall enough, I'll give her that. Menacing? Nah, sorry, lass, not so much. The chic copper red bomber jacket she's got on, sleeves pulled up to her elbows, almost looks like she means business, but those cute little dimples that she couldn't hide to save her life ruin the mood. The multi-green and white flannel shirt tied about her waist isn't helping. It's like she's trying so hard to look like she's rough around the edges, but her edges are satin soft and smooth to the touch.

I glance down a sec at her tight jeans, ripped near the knees, then back up to that same beautiful scowl of hers. Oi, I'm in trouble with this one. I can feel it deep already.

“Did ye jus' spin me 'round like a top?” she asks, a fake Irish accent dripping from her kissable lips.

Oh, the things I'd do if you'd just stop with the scowling, gorgeous…

“Where ya from, love?” I ask her.

She flinches like I've wounded her pride, then she stands up to her full height, a full ten centimeters shorter than me even if she's lifting chin up as high as the sun.

“Here,” she says, lying her arse off. “Ireland.”

“You got the Ireland right,” I say, grinning at her. “Too thick with the rest of the words, though. Trying too hard, love. Just ease up and let it come natural.”

“I'll have you know that I've done plenty of English, Scottish, and Irish accents in more plays than you can count and I've never had any complaints.”

“Aye, I'm sure you have,” I say, laughing. “An American girl, eh? Interesting. Real interesting.”

“I'm… I'm not…” she says, sputtering.

“I'd bet my Uncle Mickey's gravestone you're American,” I tell her.

“That's a little rude, don't you think?” she asks. “What would your uncle think of that?”

“I dunno. You wanna come with me and go find him? We can ask him in person. He hasn't passed on yet so I'm sure he wouldn't mind, though. Who needs a gravestone if you're not dead, yeah?”

“You're very strange,” she says to me.

“You're the one who nearly fell into the river,” I tell her. “Chasing your phone, too. Typical American girl, eh?”

“And you're very rude!” she adds. “I… I wanted to take a picture of the otters. Not that it's any of your business.”

I sidle up alongside her and peek over the stone wall towards the river.

“Aye, those're otters alright,” I say. “You still want your picture, American girl?”

“I have a name,” she says, huffing at me.

“Take your picture quick and then we'll do introductions.”

With a glare, as if she can't be bothered with what I think but she still wants this picture, she leans over the stone wall and snaps a quick pic with her phone. So as to be a true gentleman, I slide my palms on her hips and steady her so she won't go accidentally jumping in again any time soon.

“Um, excuse you?” she says, tilting her head sideways and staring down at my hands.

“Yeah, you're welcome, beautiful,” I say, taking my hands back.

“I have a name.”

“Do ya? Mine's Dare. Nice to meet you–” I'll let her finish that one. I hold my hand out for her to shake, but she stares at it like she's never seen a handshake in her entire life.

“I need to go,” she says, looking down the way. “I wanted to get closer to the parade before it starts and you've held me up long enough.”

“Yeah?” I counter. “That's how you're gonna do me. I rescue you from certain doom and I can't even get your name? Huh!”

“I would have been fine,” she says, unsure of herself. “I… I would have, um… has anyone ever told you that you have very green eyes? It's distracting.”

“Is it now?” I ask, flashing a bright smile at her. “If you think that's distracting, wait until–”

“Nope! No, thank you!” she adds, pulling her eyes away from mine. “Grace. That's my name. There. Are you happy?”

“Yeah, I am,” I tell her. “Lovely name for a beautiful girl and I'm glad to know it.”

Her cheeks burn red, matching the color of her lips for half a moment before outshining them completely. She stares me in the eyes again, looking close at what is or isn't, or what could be. I'll be arsed if I know what's going on between us but I'm taking a liking to this American girl named Grace and I'd like to learn more about her.

Which, why in the hell not?

“You use that line on all the American girls, I bet?” she says, a hint of a question, but more like she doesn't want a true answer.

“You want the truth?” I ask. “Aye, technically I have, but you're the first I've met, so you're it.”

“What? I don't believe you.”

“Aye, lady Grace. You're the only American girl for me. I fell for you right away, or if we're being accurate you fell for me right quick and I caught you. That's how it works, yeah?”

“You're never going to stop with saying you saved me, are you?”

“Are you going to admit I saved you?” I counter.

“Maybe…” she says, a glimmer in her eyes and a grin fast on her lips. “But only if I see you again. Which I won't, because I'm going to find a new way to see the parade. It looks like the sidewalk's filled up this way. It was nice to meet you, Dare, but I really need to go now. Thank you for… for helping me take a picture of those cute otters. That's it. Nothing else.”

“You're more than welcome, Grace, but I'm going to do you one even better than that,” I tell her.

“Are you now?” she asks, one cute little brow rising up to the sky.

“Aye, but you're not in the right clothes.” I look her up and down, trying to spot more green, but all she's got on her is that bit of dark and light green flannel tied about her waist. “We're gonna need to find you more green, love.”

“Um…”

“If you're quick, we can duck down here and get you sorted into something better,” I say, gesturing towards an alleyway across the street. “You ready?”

“Um, what?”

“Don't suppose you're good at acting, are ya?” I ask with a smirk. “Not that fake Irish accent acting like before.”

“I've been in the drama club since high school,” she says, hands on her hips. “I don't mean to have an ego about it or anything, but I know a thing or two about acting, you Irish scoundrel.”

“Oi! Irish scoundrel, eh? I like that.”

“You called me ‘American girl' so I thought I should at least get to call you something back.”

“If you want to do it like my ma, you can always add in my family name. Give it a whirl, Grace. It's Mackenzie.”

“I know quite a lot about acting, Dare Mackenzie!” she says, a half grin on her lips quickly replaced by a fierce grimace as she holds to her character, hands tight to her hips like I've done her wrong.

“Keep that up and I'll want to kiss you before the hour's over,” I tell her, smirking fast.

“Um, what!”

“This way, Grace. Hurry it up or we'll miss it.”

I tug on her hand and pull her across the street through the gathering crowd. Once we're in the tight alleyway everyone clears away. We make a run for it, Grace following fast on my heel as I lead her to a place a few blocks away where my mate has a flat.

~*~

That's it for now! The full book will be available on Amazon shortly (or may already be there depending on when you're reading this, haha). If you'd like to receive an email when the book is live, definitely sign up for my VIP newsletter! I send letters about giveaways, new releases, fun little things I'm doing, teasers, and more.

Hope you liked Dare and Grace's story so far. The full story is just as fun and amazing, I promise. 🙂

~Mia

~*~

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