Freshman year was supposed to be about parties, freedom, and figuring yourself out. Y/N definitely wasn’t looking for Rowan. He’s an attractive, cocky freshman who just pledged a fraternity—the exact kind of guy she promised herself she’d stay away from. But after one hookup turns into two, and two turns into a late-night habit, staying away becomes a lot harder. They’re not dating. They’re not exclusive. They’re definitely not in love. At least, that’s what they keep telling themselves. Between frat parties, club nights, jealous glances, unanswered texts, late-night hookups, and moments neither of them wants to admit mean something, their casual arrangement slowly becomes anything but. Then Y/N’s life changes in a way neither of them could have planned. A pregnancy. They’re eighteen. They’re freshmen. They’re not even officially together. And suddenly, they have to figure out how to face their parents, their friends, the rumors, Rowan’s fraternity, college, and each other. Because maybe they were falling in love long before they ever realized it.
Three years together. One last night. Months apart. Y/N and Rowan have been inseparable since they were fifteen. Now, two weeks after graduating high school, Rowan is leaving for Marine Corps boot camp. His parents and Y/N’s parents know how much they mean to each other, so they’re given one final night together before he leaves. But saying goodbye is harder than either of them imagined. Through letters, rare phone calls, memories, and months of growing up apart, they have to learn how to love each other from a distance while stepping into adulthood. And when Rowan finally graduates, Y/N is waiting at the finish line. He has one last promise to make.
She has a boyfriend. He has everything she’s supposed to want. So why can’t she stop thinking about the guy she met at the club? Rowan is nothing like Cameron. He hates frat culture, doesn’t care about money or popularity, and somehow makes Y/N feel seen in a way her boyfriend never has. What starts as one night of dancing turns into stolen glances, late-night conversations, secret meetings, and kisses they both know they shouldn’t be sharing. Y/N keeps telling herself she can stop. Rowan keeps telling himself he should walk away. Neither of them does. Sometimes the worst decisions are the ones that feel the most right.
One embarrassing 911 call. One ridiculously attractive firefighter. One very unexpected romance. Y/N never expected her worst night ever to involve a stuck sex toy, a 911 call, and a firefighter named Rowan walking into her bedroom. She definitely didn’t expect to see him again. But two weeks later, Rowan appears at the exact same bar she’s drinking at—and suddenly, their painfully embarrassing first meeting becomes the beginning of something neither of them saw coming. Between flirty banter, jealous moments, chaotic firefighter friends, late-night conversations, and undeniable chemistry, Y/N and Rowan slowly realize that sometimes the most embarrassing beginnings make for the best love stories. Because apparently, “911, what’s your emergency?” can have a very interesting answer.
