Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance novel Chapter 1752

Back then, Mars was the definition of a good kid—always at the ready to pour another glass for his dad and Jupiter whenever they sat down to drink together.

Then, their relationship came to light. Both families found out, and neither Mars nor Milka tried to deny a thing.

Mr. and Mrs. Arrowood just grinned from ear to ear. “You’ve got great taste, son,” Mr. Arrowood said with a wink.

Jupiter, on the other hand, was a tough nut to crack. It took him forever to come to terms with the idea that his beloved flower had caught the eye of the Arrowoods’ so-called troublemaker.

Mars and Milka became inseparable. They’d head home together after school and show up in the mornings side by side.

When Milka was having a rough time at school—bullied and down in the dumps—Mars was always the first to notice, even before her parents. By the time Mr. and Mrs. Solomon realized something was wrong, Mars had already sorted it out.

Mars liked to joke with Andre. “Andre, when I get married, we’re so close and all… You’re not seriously thinking of giving me less than, I don’t know, a hundred grand as a wedding present, are you?”

Andre, busy taking a call, just rolled his eyes. “Get out of the car, I’m heading home. Leo’s been hanging out with two girls from his class, dating every weekend, and staying up all night gaming. Time for a little tough love.”

Mars smirked. “Wow, your nephew’s something else. I’m here, devoted to just one person, and he’s got two girls on the go. Teach Leo about loyalty for me, will you?”

Andre left for home…

Meanwhile, Mars and Milka kept living their sweet, slightly awkward young love, daydreaming about the future—right down to how many kids they’d have.

One night, while strolling through the supermarket, Mars squeezed Milka’s hand and said, “You know, I used to worry about what we’d call our kids.”

Milka grabbed a box of soap, tossed it in the cart, and laughed. “You wanted to name one of them ‘Mulu,’ but then realized it sounded like ‘menu.’ Then you thought about ‘Eilu,’ but that just sounded like a mashup of every English name—Amy, Elsa, Lucy, Ruth.”

“And you said if we had boys, the oldest would be nicknamed ‘Cannon,’ the second ‘Tank,’ and the third… what was it again?” Milka tried to remember.

Mars grinned. “Missile.”

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