At twenty-five, you’ve turned TikTok fame into an empire: millions of followers, a clothing brand, bakeries across five major cities, modeling campaigns, Fashion Weeks, and a life permanently followed by cameras. Dating was never part of the schedule. Then a luxury campaign pairs you with NFL quarterback Cameron Langford. One photoshoot becomes a viral edit. One conversation becomes a friendship. Soon, he’s at your bakeries, you’re at his games, and paparazzi keep finding you in the same cities. The internet calls it a relationship. You call it coincidence.
Y/N has spent years hopelessly in love with Lucas Flynn—Hawthorne’s star quarterback and the boy who once rejected her because he “needed to focus on football,” only to make plenty of time for every other girl afterward. She should be over him. She isn’t. Then, during Hawthorne’s biggest rivalry game, Lucas and his teammates jokingly dare Y/N to distract Westbridge’s quarterback by bringing him a bottle of water. So she does. The problem? Ethan Calloway is ridiculously hot, surprisingly sweet, and far more interested in the girl delivering the water than whatever scheme Hawthorne had planned. The bigger problem? Apparently, Ethan has been sitting three rows behind her in class all semester. And Lucas Flynn may have never wanted Y/N—but he certainly doesn’t like watching her finally want someone else.
After BID day, y/n’s sorority was invited to join her brother’s fraternity “frat wedding,” a tradition where one of the new members is chosen to “marry” a fraternity member. The “groom” was selected by y/n’s sorority’s through a vote of who the member deems the hottest. The “bride” was chosen similarly by his fraternity. Lo and behold, y/n is chosen as the “bride” and Maverick is the “groom.”
You transfer to Westfield to analyze football, not fall for its star quarterback. Unfortunately, Gabriel Wallace is your brother’s best friend, your new roommate, and the one player who makes you question everything—except how much you hate him.
Matthias von Falkenberg had spent twenty-two years being told no by exactly no one. Then {y/n} de Verlaine stole his seat. One argument became a rivalry. The rivalry became flirting. And when Matthias discovered that Saint-Aurelie’s notoriously cold French heiress turned pink whenever he got too close, irritating her became his favorite pastime. Then her name appeared on the list of women his family wanted him to marry. Suddenly, Matthias had a perfectly respectable excuse to do everything he’d already been thinking about. After all, he was only courting his potential wife.
You were supposed to arrive at Asterwyck with your dignity intact. Instead, one mispronounced transportation spell drops you into the wrong alley—and directly on top of Rowan Thorne, Morvane’s infuriatingly smug Quidditch captain. You assume you'll never see him again. Then you arrive at Asterwyck, get sorted into rival Veyr, and realize the blond asshole from the alley is everywhere
Catching her boyfriend of three years making out with another woman at his family's gala was bad. Getting drunk afterward was worse. Waking up in the bed of a complete stranger was arguably worse than that. Finding out said stranger was the heir to the wealthiest family in Europe—and her now ex-boyfriend's greatest enemy—was something {y/n} would rather never speak of again. Unfortunately, there's one small problem. Their families have already arranged their marriage. And apparently, "let's pretend last night never happened" becomes significantly harder when the man in question is now her fiancé.
There were three rules to surviving summer at the Hayes lake house. 1. Don't let Theo drive the boat. 2. Don't challenge Sophie to anything involving alcohol. 3. And, under absolutely no circumstances, develop feelings for Cameron Hayes. Y/N had successfully followed the third rule for ten years. Then someone dared her to kiss him. And Cameron kissed her back.
Y/N and Adrian Laurent had three things in common. They came from families wealthy enough to turn marriage into a business deal. They knew hockey better than almost anyone at Blackwood. And they couldn't stand each other. Unfortunately, irritation had a habit of becoming attraction—and attraction was considerably harder to ignore when their friends kept forcing them into the same room. It all started at a hockey game Y/N never wanted to attend.
Y/N had spent years learning how to control a tennis court. Then Nolan Pierce walked onto hers. Men’s captain. No. 1 singles. And, as of 6AM that morning, the most irritating person she had ever met. Unfortunately, he wasn't going anywhere.
Everyone at Alderidge has a confession, and {y/n} secretly knows almost all of them. Running @AlderidgeConfessions means constantly reading about campus crushes, party disasters, questionable hookups—and, for reasons she cannot understand, hockey star Henry Beaufort.
Harvard looked a lot less intimidating with Elle hanging halfway out the car window. “We go to Harvard!” she yelled for the fifth time. Then I saw him. Damien Evans leaned against our dorm entrance, looking unfairly better than I remembered. His eyes found mine. He grinned. “Harvard actually let you in?” I climbed out. “Standards dropped after they admitted you.” “There she is.” Suddenly, I was fourteen again, wanting to hit him with a volleyball. Except Damien wasn’t fourteen anymore. Neither was I. That might be a problem.
Y/N came to London to open a restaurant, not start a rivalry. Then {y/n} was seated beside Harrison Engel—famous German chef, professional nuisance, and the only person arrogant enough to criticize a three-Michelin-starred dish before she could. One dinner. Twelve courses. Far too many arguments. They should have remained strangers. Instead, London keeps putting them at the same tables. And somewhere between competing palates, stolen bites, late-night kitchens, and arguments held inches apart, their biggest disagreement becomes whether they actually hate each other at all.
{y/n} was good at a lot of things. Her job. Deadlines. Working under pressure. She was less good at eating, sleeping, and—apparently—remembering her keys. Which was how, at 12:47 a.m., she found herself locked outside 14B after sixteen hours at work. She only meant to close her eyes for a second. She woke up to a man crouched in front of her. A ridiculously attractive man. Unfortunately, also her landlord.
