How (not) to get over your crush: compare him to every man on your dating app... Chloe is on the wrong side of her quarter-life crisis. Dead-end job, lease ending, and single af. It's made all the harder by knowing exactly who the perfect man for her is: her super hot, incredibly kind, and extremely taken friend Austin. What's a girl to do but drown her troubles in pinot and let her bestie open her an account on a dating app? If there are other perfect men out there, she's determined to find them. Her ensuing series of boyfriends spark several revelations for Chloe: Never date a man with step-mommy issues. Always ask about criminal records on the first date. Swimsuits were never intended to be made from leather. Maybe perfection is as overrated as her new app.
SPRING FLING
One
"Is this the hill you're going to die on, Chloe?" Boy, if I had a quarter for every time someone asked me that. And then another for every time I did, in fact, die on said hill...well, I would have to drop "starving" from my artist bio.
The Instagram-worthy eyebrows of my bestie challenge me to stand behind today's bold statement-that I prefer to be alone.
My brain frantically rummages through my extensive collection of history facts, trying to find one that applies to modern times. Since women can no longer be arrested or considered a prostitute for going on a date, I'm not sure how to answer Charlotte's question in a way that makes it believable. No one wants to die on a hill alone, do they? Unfortunately, I may. Unlike me, most twenty-six-year-olds are pro-actively seeking their other half, succumbing to their biological clocks which are ticking down the tragic seconds until they die...not alone.
"What's wrong with being a lone wolf?" is all I can come up with.
"Nothing. But...humans aren't wired to be alone. We're pack animals by nature." Narrowed brown eyes pin me to the sofa. "Plus, I know why you're choosing to not date anyone, so it's my duty, as your best friend, to give you a nudge in the right direction." With a whirl of her chair, she turns back to the computer she's convinced holds my future partner.
I drain my second glass of Merlot and slump into the leather of Charlotte's couch, silently asking it to swallow me whole so I won't have to go through with her outlandish idea of finding me a man via dating app. When I arrived at Charlotte's place, I had no idea this was an intervention of sorts. This visit was supposed to be chilling with wine and flower shopping for Charlotte's upcoming wedding. Instead, I've been bamboozled with an online matchmaking site that will have men sending a rock, if they're interested in me. Not the kind on Charlotte's finger, a poorly drawn stone rock to symbolize the building of a solid foundation.
How can I take this seriously when I'm not impressed with their branding?
"Granny Mae would not approve of this," I counter, since history has failed to provide me with an adequate defense. "You know how she feels about the internet." Maybe I'm not playing fair using Charlotte's adoration of my grandmother and her questionable southern charm, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so I continue, "Full of damn trolls I believe were her exact words."
Charlotte gasps at my underhanded attempt to thwart her plan, but is undeterred. "Granny Mae is in North Carolina. Probably making biscuits, with her sweet little granny hands. Besides, she'll never have to know how you met the love of your life. You'll blow her bonnet off when you go home to visit." She points to the website with smiling people on the screen. "Look, it's called FriendsOfFriends, so that's respectable. F-O-F. And you know what that O is for!"
"Of?"
Charlotte glances over her shoulder at me. "Wow, this is why you never get laid."
Never is a bit harsh. It's not like I've intentionally chosen to be celibate for years. Well, maybe I have, but there's no time to respond with more grannyisms about the dangers of social media, because the front door opens and in walks the reason for my nun-like state and Charlotte's insistence that I give this a try.
"What's up, ladies?" Austin, Charlotte's roommate extraordinaire, drawls in his husky timbre that warms my wine and brings the fine hairs on the nape of my neck to attention.
"Hey," I say, sitting a bit straighter. "How was work?"
"Busy." He deposits a white to-go box on the counter separating the kitchen and living room. "What do you have for me today, Chloe?"
For a moment, I can't think. He truly is extraordinary, in an understated way. Dark eyes, dark hair, and a dark sense of humor. He's the holy trinity in my book. But, like all good things, he's taken. So I can only mope and admire his tall frame from atop my lonely dying-hill.
"Forks were once thought to be sacrilegious," I finally say.
He chuckles and leans against the counter, crossing his arms. "Why is that?"
"When they were introduced in the 11th century, they were considered artificial hands and as such, an offense to God."
"Amazing. You never disappoint me, Chloe." And his amusement at my gems of worthless knowledge never disappoints me. "I've got something for you, too. A customer ordered fettuccine Alfredo, and while I was making it, they canceled due to carb-guilt." He winks at me. "I know you love to eat, so I brought it home for you."
Three concerns immediately present themselves.
The fact that he expected me to be here is troublesome. For someone who wants to be alone, I'm always hanging out here to avoid being alone. Maybe I do need a date.
Austin is a phenomenal chef, so although I hate being predictable, I'll take the fettuccine. Seems fair. He feeds me delicious pasta, and I feed him useless history facts.
He cannot see what we are doing. Sure, he's got a girlfriend, but do I want him to think I'm off the table? Not that I'm on the table. But I might be? Some day?
"Thank you. That was really thoughtful." Faster than Austin can dice an onion, I spring from the couch and cross to Charlotte's desk, positioning myself to block the screen.
He ambles closer, bringing the seductive scent of garlic with him. "What are you-"
"It's lady underwear stuff," I half shout, at the same time Charlotte says, "Setting up a dating app."
Austin's eyes volley between us.
"A dating app...for Charlotte," I amend. This is not my finest cover-up.
He stops a few feet from my raised hand and gives me side-eye. "Charlotte's engaged."
"She may need a fling." I shrug. "Don't shame her sexual needs."
"I do need to know I'm still desirable," Charlotte adds, because besties roll with stuff like this. "I'm a modern gal in a post-modern world, bud."
He grazes his bottom lip with a peek of white teeth, and then, like the laid-back guy he is, lets it go. "Okay. Keep your secrets. I'm going to shower and nap before I meet Lucy."
Right. Lucy. The totally put-together new girlfriend with a successful career in public relations.
"Let me know how you like the fettuccine," he calls on his way out of the room.
When he's disappeared down the hallway, Charlotte whispers, "You know, you're doing this to get over him. So it's okay if he knows. Because...you're moving on?"
"Shhhh. He doesn't know about my crush. And never will. Because you would never, ever tell him, upon pain of death. Right?"
"I'm offended. Girl Code is more sacred than the cross."
"You're Jewish."
"It's the principle."
"Well, I'm already nervous enough about going out with strangers, I don't need him making me more nervous. He'll have me convinced they're all serial killers."
Actually, I don't really need convincing on that part.
Our lips stayed locked as we grinded and humped, a tight ball of tension growing deep in my belly. Iâd never been so intimate with someone during a first kiss let alone the first night weâd met. Never felt so close to orgasm with all of my clothes still on. Never been on the verge of begging for sex from a near strangerâThe sound of a throat clearing brought me tumbling out of ecstasy. Dylan broke his mouth from mine and peered around me. âYes?â The driver. Oh my God, Iâd forgotten about our driver. **** British ad exec Dylan Locke isn't looking for love. He isn't looking for fate. He's definitely not looking for Audrey Lind. She's pretty, far too young, and overly romantic--in short, exhausting. But when the girl, young enough to be his daughter, literally lands in his lap and asks for his expertise, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested. But Audrey isn't looking for love either--she's looking for lessons, and she's certain Dylan knows everything she needs to learn. If he agrees to play the teacher can he keep his heart? Of course he can. Then again, he might be lying.
Are You Sure You Want To Delete This Contact? He hesitated. Maybe he was overreacting. Just because his parents hadnât worked out⊠âChrist, Brad, divorced?â Stu said into the phone. Until now, Stu hadnât said much and his sudden outburst drew Micahâs attention. âI knew that chick was just after your money.â Stu paused. âLook, Iâm real sorry to hear that. Iâll get Pam to spin it to the press however you want me to. Itâs funny, I was just saying to another client that relationships in Hollywood are tough.â Stu gave a knowing wink and Micahâs mind was made up. He looked back at his phone. Are You Sure You Want To Delete This Contact? Micah pushed Yes. And Maddie from the party was erased from his phone. Erased from his life. *** On the night of her graduation from film school, straight-laced Maddie Bauers fell completely out of character for an oh-my-god make-out session with a perfect stranger. Complete with the big O. Seven years later, that romantic interlude is still fresh in her mind. That stranger is now a rich and famous actor. And sheâs one very distracted camera assistant working on his latest production. She might consider another trystâŠif he even remembers her.
Heâll get what he wantsâeven if Iâm already taken. Holt Sebastian is royalty in our world. As CEO of the Sebastian News Corp, heâs the man with all the power. The man who decides if Iâll always just be a local television anchor or if Iâll be the rising star of my own show. I make it my mission to be noticed. Make him see my potential. But soon, it's clear he's the one in charge. His possessiveness is brutal. His eyes own everything they touch. I feel his gaze on me when he's in the room. The heat of them as they rake down my body, taking me in, marking me as his. He doesnât just want me on the screenâhe wants me in his bed. And Holt Sebastian gets what he wants. No one will stop him, no one will get in his way. No one can protect me from his desire. Not even the man who promised nothing would come between us and his ambitionâmy husband.
âHeâs never going to go for you,â a voice came out of the dark in front of me. âNot while youâre a virgin.â I squinted, and when I looked closer, I saw there was another bedroom at the end of the hall with the door wide open, and though I couldnât quite make out the figure, I could see there was someone sitting in an armchair, smoking a cigarette. Or a cigar maybe. I took a step forward. Surely he wasnât talking to me, but there didnât seem to be anyone else around. âExcuse me?â âWeston never goes for virgins. Itâs one of his rules.â Heat rushed up my neck and flooded my cheeks. âUhâŠâ âYouâre offended.â **** When I met Donovan Kincaid, I knew he was rich. I didnât know he was filthy. Truth be told, I was only trying to get his best friend to notice me. I knew poor scholarship girls like me didn't stand a chance against guys like Weston King and Donovan Kincaid, but I was in love with his world, of parties and s*x and power. I knew what I wantedâI knew who I wantedâuntil one night, their world tried to bite me back and Donovan saved me. He saved me, and then Weston finally noticed me, and I finally learned what it was to be in their world. And then what it was like to lose it. Ten years later, Iâve found my way back. Back to their world. Back to him. This time, Iâm ready. I've been down this road before, and I know all the dirty, filthy ways Donovan will try and wreck me. But itâs hard to resist. Especially when I know how much Iâll like it.
I hated how he said my name, like he had all the power because he knew that bit of information about me. Hated it and loved it. I also hated how his eyes drew up my body, long and slow. Sensually touching my every curve, my every angle. Hated and loved it. Hated that I loved it. I sat on the chair that was still behind me, not trusting my legs to keep me steady for much longer. âWhat exactly is this deal you have? And who are you?â âI,â he paused, âam JC.â Iâd never heard of him. âJCâŠ?â âJust JC.â He said it like it answered everything. Two short syllables to put me in my place. âAs in Jesus Christ?â JC chuckled as well, his expression brash and sexy. âIâve been called that. But usually only when my face is pressed between a womanâs thighs.â Ew. Also, hot. ââ The only reward Gwen Anders got from her rough childhood was a thick skin and hard heart. Sheâs content with her daily grind managing a top NYC nightclubâEighty-Eighth Floor. So hers isnât a happily ever after. She doesnât believe in those anyway. Then she meets J.C. The rich, smooth talking playboy is the sexiest thing that Gwen has ever encountered, but sheâs not interested in a night-in-shining latex. But when a family tragedy pushes her to the brink, itâs J.C. whoâs there to teach her a new method of survival, one based on following primal urges and desires. His no-strings-attached lessons require her to abandon her constant need for control. Her carefully built walls are obliterated. Gwen discovers thereâs a beautiful world outside her prison. Freedom is exhilaratingâand terrifying. When she starts to feel something for J.C., she fears for her heart. Especially as she realizes that he has secrets of his own. Secrets that don't want to set him free.
âI donât need your money.â She stuck out her chin. Insistent. âI do fine.â ââFine,â but youâre getting kicked out of your hotel roomââ âFine doesnât mean I can spare the money for an impromptu trip to NYC and a fancy hotel room. Regular people donât have gobs of cash lying around.â The comment about regular people hit me in the gut. Because Iâd always been the regular one, and sheâd never been anything close to âregular.â But I understood what she was saying. She wasnât desperate. She could take care of herself. She just couldnât take care of this, and to make matters worse, the reason sheâd splurged on this was because sheâd put all of her hope in me saying Iâd help her out, and I refused. ___ We were supposed to run away after graduation. When she didnât show at our meeting place, I got brave and went after her. It was a mistake. I left bloodied and bruised. I had no choice but to walk away. Years passed. I traveled, settled halfway around the world, made enough money that I didnât have to look back. But I never got over her. Then, out of the blue, she calls. And, what she asks for, the favor that she wants? I never thought I'd be willing to take a life. But the truth is, and always has been: I'd do anything for her.
After my family's sinister plots collapsed, they lashed out at me, taking their rage to a violent level. Cornered and desperate, I married Jaxtonâthe town's most sought-after bachelorâdue to an unplanned pregnancy. Love had no part in this marriage; I assumed he married me purely out of responsibility, his heart belonging elsewhere. The moment I chose to let him go and turned to leave, he grabbed me and pinned me down hard. "Jaxton, you promised you'd never touch me!" I snapped, glaring fiercely. His eyes flashed arrogantly as he leaned closer. "You're the one who started this!"
After three secretive years of marriage, Eliana never met her enigmatic husband until she was served with divorce papers and learned of his extravagant pursuit of another. She snapped back to reality and secured a divorce. Thereafter, Eliana unveiled her various personas: an esteemed doctor, legendary secret agent, master hacker, celebrated designer, adept race car driver, and distinguished scientist. As her diverse talents became known, her ex-husband was consumed by remorse. Desperately, he pleaded, "Eliana, give me another chance! All my properties, even my life, are yours."
22-year-old Evelyn Carter is attempting to start over in California while avoiding her past. She will be embarking on a new career path as a private school teacher. She is smart, attractive, and doesn't put up with nonsense. Who wouldn't notice her? However, what happens when she attracts the attention of someone unwilling to let her go? Who wants her and nothing else after falling in love at first sight? A 25-year-old billionaire CEO and single father, Lucian Carrington. He takes what he wants and he is also a very dangerous man. All it needed was one look at a stunning woman to realize she was HIS, even though he doesn't believe in relationships because they always end. Preview: Miss Carter, you will be mine. I say firmly. "Release my arm, Mr. Carrington, before I force you to." She says, seeming to smile at me. I give her a sly smile. Squeezing my wrist with her other hand, she twists it uncomfortably. I gave a painful hiss. "Don't underestimate me, Mr. Carrington." "This is the only time I will allow you to walk away from me, Miss Carter." She glared at me as she turned. "Mr. Carrington, I am no possession of yours." I was left standing there when she opened the classroom door and left.
Due to the plight of her family, Phoebe had no choice but to embark on the path of selling herself. In an accident, she had a tangled night with Alexander. Everything began to derail, and even if she fled to the ends of the earth, she would still be found by him and entangled... *** Phoebe screamed in frustration, "What do you want from me?" What was this supposed to be? He raised an eyebrow wickedly. "What do I want? You'll find out soon enough." With that, he hoisted her up and carried her back into the office. The door slammed shut with a kick, and he cleared the desk with a sweep of his arm before laying her down on it, his body pinning hers in place, completely trapping her in his grasp. Every cell in his body was telling him he wanted her. He wanted to claim her again. This time, there would be no escape for her-he wouldn't let her slip away. Never again. If he had suffered for five years, then this woman wouldn't get off easily either!
"Never let anyone treat you like shit!" I learned that the hard way. For three years, I lived with my in-laws. They didn't treat me as their son-in-law but as a slave. I put up with everything because of my wife, Yolanda Lambert. She was the light of my life. Unfortunately, my whole world came crashing down the day I caught my wife cheating on me. I have never been so heartbroken. To have my revenge, I revealed my true identity. I was none other than Liam Hoffmanâthe heir of a family with trillions of dollars in assets! The Lamberts were utterly shocked after the big reveal. They realized what fools they had been for treating me like trash. My wife even knelt down and begged for my forgiveness. What do you think I did? Did I take her back or made her suffer? Find out!
For three years, Shane and Yvonne were wed, sharing heated nights, while his devotion clung to his ex. Yvonne strove to be a dutiful wife, yet their marriage felt hollow, built on desire rather than real warmth. All changed when she became pregnant, only for Shane to thrust her onto the operating table, warning, âEither you or the baby survives!â Broken by his cruelty, she vanished in grief and later returned, radiantly accomplished, leaving everyone awestruck. Haunted by remorse, Shane begged for another chance, but Yvonne only smiled and replied, âIâm sorry, men no longer interest me.â