Elijah Moore has never had to work this hard for a woman in his fucking life. British. Italian. Billionaire. Disgustingly handsome. Elijah arrives in the States expecting one house party, a reunion with his oldest friend, and a flight straight back to London. Then he sees her. Y/N is gorgeous enough to make him forget what he was saying—and apparently the only woman alive completely unimpressed by the Elijah Moore Experience™. The British accent? Cute. The Italian? Try harder. The money? She couldn’t care less. And Elijah? Absolutely fucking delighted. Because while every other woman at the party is practically volunteering to climb him like a tree—including one particularly persistent Calista—Y/N keeps smiling sweetly, rejecting his best lines, and making the spoiled billionaire earn every second of her attention. So Elijah starts chasing. And somewhere between bella, shameless flirting, late-night conversations, and Y/N humbling him for sport, the game stops feeling like a game. Because Elijah Moore came to America looking for a good time. Now he’s wondering how difficult it would be to convince one stubborn little dollface that London could use another resident. She said try harder. Poor choice of words. Because Elijah fucking will.
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@lunababy_Kameron Rhodes' house sat at the end of a long, gated drive in the hills — glass walls, warm lights, eighty-odd people spilling out of the French doors onto a terrace lit by string bulbs and a fire pit that had no business being that big.