Keagan is the definition of bad boy. College man with a body that could make even God moan and an attitude to put the devil to shame. He walked campus halls like he owned them-tattoos inked across golden skin, smirk cocked like a loaded gun, and eyes that dared anyone to look away first. Between classes and drinking parties, sex and boys, Keagan had it all. He didn't chase love-he devoured it in the dark, left it breathless, and moved on before morning. Until Jamison. Small, skinny, anti-social. With glasses too big for his face and sweaters that hung off his shoulders like afterthoughts, Jamison barely existed in Keagan's world. Quiet, forgettable... or so everyone thought. But there was something in the way Jamison looked at Keagan-like he saw straight through the leather and lust. Like he wasn't afraid. Keagan should've ignored him. Should've kept walking. But something about that awkward little ghost of a boy stopped him cold. Curiosity, maybe. Hunger, definitely. Because suddenly, Keagan wanted more than a body to ruin-he wanted to see if someone like Jamison could handle the heat. The question wasn't if Keagan would break him. The question was... would Jamison beg for it?
01
Keagan
I looked over at the boy sitting next to me, his eyes glossed over from the tears that were bound to come spilling out any second. He was covering his big green eyes with his messy brown hair, and shielding his quivering lip with his oversized sleeve-covered hand. I didn't feel anything though; he was just another person I slept with and mooched off of for a few months.
We were parked just outside the university dorms. I could already hear the buzz of returning students filtering through the open car window - laughter, thuds of suitcase wheels, voices calling to old friends. It felt like the summer had folded itself up in a neat, forgettable little envelope and tossed itself out the window. And Derek, poor Derek, was still trying to hold the edges of it together with trembling fingers.
"So, you're serious Keagan? We're done; just like that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper but heavy with disbelief.
I nodded my head in response, a little shocked and annoyed that this was taking him so long to process. It wasn't complicated. We weren't complicated. That was the point.
"So what am I supposed to do?" he said, blinking fast like that might keep the tears from falling.
"I don't know." I groaned, turning my head toward the passenger side window. "Go to a bar tonight, tell some mildly attractive man that your ex-friends-with-benefits was a total douche and 'broke up' with you after your summer fling. I told you from the start how this was going to be, it's not my fault you had the idea you could change my mind."
He didn't respond right away, just let his head fall back against the seat. I could see the tears actually welling up in his eyes now, turning green into a murky glassy mess, but nothing I said was a lie. I never put a title on us, I never asked him to be my boyfriend, and I told him from the start once school started back up we were done. Honestly, I just needed him for a house to stay at during the summer months - his parents were always out of town, the air conditioning worked, and his fridge was always stocked.
It was transactional. Everything in my life usually is.
"I think you should go..." he whispered, voice strained. I complied gladly, relieved to be done with the drawn-out goodbye. He was kind enough to let me grab my bag from out of the back of his car before pulling out of his parking spot.
"I really hope you find someone who does something like this to you, Keagan. I really do."
I smiled slightly at that - a bitter, private sort of smirk - knowing there was no chance in hell that I would ever be that stupid. But I nodded again, if only to spare him the humiliation of my honesty.
"If it helps," I said, tossing my bag over my shoulder, "I know you'll find someone great. I'm just that stepping stone you had to get through in order to find it."
I knew I was right. He was a great guy. Generous. Kind. Great in bed. The kind of person who would hold your hair back if you were sick, memorize your coffee order without trying. Someone would love him one day. He had that kind of heart.
But to be honest, this wasn't the first time I've used that line.
He looked at me like I was a memory he wasn't ready to archive yet. "You will too, Keagan. You know you're not the monster you claim to be."
I rolled my eyes and sighed. I say one sweet thing and they're back craving more. That was the problem. People like Derek - they always wanted to find the tragedy in me. The soft spot. The part that might be saved. It's like they thought if they stayed long enough, dug deep enough, they'd find the golden boy under the cynicism and the one-night stands. Spoiler alert: there's nothing under here but bed sheets and expiration dates.
"I'll see you around, Derek. Have a nice life."
And with that, I turned away and headed into the university behind me, the automatic doors swallowing me up with a quiet swoosh.
Inside, the air smelled like fresh paint and overpriced books. Everything was too bright, too polished, like a new phone you're scared to drop. I maneuvered through the crowd, my duffel bag bumping against my side, and found my dorm easily - room 312, floor three, shared with someone I hadn't bothered to look up yet. I didn't care. People were temporary.
The room was predictably beige and bland, one bed already claimed, the other still untouched. I dropped my bag on the mattress and stood for a second, just taking in the silence. It was the kind of quiet that came after burning bridges - uncomfortable but familiar.
I pulled out my phone, opening my texts. A couple of unread messages from friends - if you could call them that - asking if I was back on campus. One from a guy I used to hook up with in the spring, probably looking to pick up where we left off. I ignored them all.
Instead, I found Derek's contact and stared at the name for a moment. No heart emoji, no nickname. Just "Derek." Clean. Forgettable. I considered deleting it but didn't. Maybe I liked the idea that his name would still be there for a while. Proof that someone cared more than I did.
I sat on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking beneath me. For a second - just a second - I let myself wonder what it would have been like if I hadn't told him we were done. If I had stayed one more night. If I had said yes when he asked me once, in the middle of August, "Do you think we could be something more when summer ends?"
But then I remembered who I was. What I was.
People like me don't do more. We do moments. We do survival. We do silence when someone starts to fall.
I got up and pulled the curtain shut, blocking out the late afternoon sun.
Maybe Derek would cry tonight. Maybe he'd drink too much and call me a few times before finally giving up. Maybe he'd meet someone who actually meant what they said.
And maybe, just maybe, he'd eventually understand that I was never trying to be cruel.
Just honest.
But honesty, for someone like me, always ends up looking like heartbreak in someone else's hands.
Emma had always thought of herself as untouchable. With her sharp tongue, enviable beauty, and spoiled rotten demeanor, she had managed to stay several steps ahead of anyone who dared to challenge her. But somehow, Will Knight-cocky, impatient, and slightly dimwitted-had managed to kidnap her and her best friend not once, but twice. How? She was still trying to wrap her head around it. The first time had been a chaotic mess. Will had bungled the plan, getting caught halfway through, and yet, somehow, he still managed to pull it off. The second time was almost laughable. Emma had expected a more elaborate scheme, but instead, Will had used his brute force and complete disregard for any semblance of intelligence. It was absurd, really. He had no finesse, no strategy, and yet here they were, locked in his uncomfortably shabby hideout for the second time. "Seriously?" Emma muttered, pacing the room, hands on her hips. "How does someone this clueless get away with kidnapping?" Will shrugged with that stupid grin of his. "Dunno, guess I'm just lucky." Emma shot him a withering look. Maybe luck had something to do with it, but she had a feeling there was more to Will than met the eye. Perhaps he wasn't as dimwitted as she'd thought. That idea made her stomach twist in an unsettling way.
After the death of Peter McKinley, the fate of the McKinley Inns was left in the hands of Peter's firstborn son, Alexander. Thrust into leadership, Alexander was determined to protect the legacy his father built from the ground up. But when he uncovered the company's seemingly unending debts and mounting pressure from creditors, he found himself drowning in financial ruin. Desperation clawed at him as he scrambled for a solution to save the family's name and keep the company afloat. Then came an unexpected offer-one that both intrigued and infuriated him. George Garrison, a young billionaire and hotel magnate, approached him with a proposal: he would buy McKinley Inns, settle its debts, and keep Alexander on as the face of the brand. But there was a condition-George wanted to marry Alexander's younger sister. The deal sounded like a lifeline, but to Alexander, it felt like a betrayal. His sister was in love with someone else, and the thought of trading her happiness for a business deal sickened him. Refusing to give up so easily, Alexander sought out other options, determined to find another way. Meanwhile, George Garrison, under pressure from his late grandfather's will, was required to marry in order to claim full control of his inheritance. The catch? He was gay-and had no desire for a wife or a marriage of convenience. He saw Peter McKinley's daughter as a solution, a name to satisfy the will. But when Alexander stormed into his office, angry and desperate, George found himself considering a far more intriguing arrangement-one that just might change everything.
Thea Gibson lived a perfectly ordinary life. By day, she served drinks at the local bar, earning just enough to pay the rent and keep her bills from piling up. She wasn't one for extravagant spending, preferring quiet nights at home with her nose buried in the latest paranormal fantasy novel. It was easier to get lost in a world of mythical creatures and epic battles than face the real one, where she tried-and often failed-to suppress the awkwardness that followed her like a shadow. Most nights, she relished her solitude, but that didn't stop her best friend Shae from dragging her to parties. "You need to get out more!" Shae would say with that infectious energy that made it impossible to say no. Thea would end up surrounded by strangers, nursing a drink in a corner, wishing she could escape into the pages of her book instead of pretending to enjoy herself. The only bright spot? Detective Josh Cooper. He was always there, with his captivating smile and those deep eyes that seemed to see right through her. Thea had a secret crush on him. But that was all it was-a harmless fantasy. That all changed one fateful night. The bar was quieter than usual when a figure appeared in the doorway. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as Thea stared at him. He was tall, his presence undeniable, with a calm confidence that seemed at odds with the tension in the room. Before she could even process what was happening, a group of monstrous creatures-Titans, she later learned-charged toward her. Panic surged in her chest. But before they could reach her, the man was there, moving with blinding speed, his hand raised. A bolt of light shot from his fingers, and the Titans disintegrated into smoke. "I'm Hermes," he said, voice smooth as silk. "Messenger of the Gods. And you, Thea, are a reincarnated deity with a destiny you've yet to remember." The words felt surreal. Thea opened her mouth to protest, but the world around her seemed to shift, and suddenly she wasn't sure what was real anymore. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. Hermes smiled, the corner of his lips curling up with a mysterious knowing. "You're about to find out. The Titans are free. And it's up to you to send Cronos back to Tartarus." Thea shook her head in disbelief. "This is insane." "You're not the first to refuse the truth," Hermes said, his tone soft, but unwavering. "But you will be the one to stop him." Everything she'd known, every bit of normalcy she clung to, crumbled in that instant.
Young aspiring writer Norah Jacobs needs to escape. In just two weeks, her life has been turned upside down. Her brother, a brilliant but deeply corrupt lawyer, is incarcerated for murder. His name, once synonymous with success, is now dragged through the mud by the media. And as if that weren't enough, his former partner-a man as dangerous as he is relentless-now lurks around her home, throwing half-threats her way, making it clear that her silence comes at a price... The peace she had been desperately trying to hold onto crumbles. So, Norah makes a radical decision: she packs her car, abandons her apartment, shuts off her phone, and disappears. Her destination is Bellvale, a small coastal town, far removed from the chaos she left behind. But in Bellvale, calm is only an illusion. Soon, Norah realizes that this secluded corner of the world harbors its own darkness. Strange whispers in the woods, too many piercing gazes, and an unsettling feeling of being watched... She finds herself drawn into an ancient power struggle, one between creatures she thought were only found in fairy tales. And she quickly learns an undeniable truth: no matter how hard you try to run from your problems... they always find a way to catch up.
Kara Martin was known as Miss Perfect. She was a beauty with good personality and successful career. Unfortunately, her life changed at one night. She was accused of adultery, losing her job, and abandoned by her fiance. The arrogant man who slept with her did not want to take responsibility. He even threatened to kill her if they met again. What's worse, Kara was pregnant with twins and she chose to give birth to them. Four and a half years later, Kara returned to work at a large company. As the secretary, she would frequently face their notorious CEO. Kara thought it wouldn't be a problem, but as it turned out ... the CEO was the father of the twins!
Corinne devoted three years of her life to her boyfriend, only for it to all go to waste. He saw her as nothing more than a country bumpkin and left her at the altar to be with his true love. After getting jilted, Corinne reclaimed her identity as the granddaughter of the town’s richest man, inherited a billion-dollar fortune, and ultimately rose to the top. But her success attracted the envy of others, and people constantly tried to bring her down. As she dealt with these troublemakers one by one, Mr. Hopkins, notorious for his ruthlessness, stood by and cheered her on. “Way to go, honey!”
"Is it considered betrayal to develop feelings for your best friend's boyfriend? What about when fate intervenes, and he turns out to be your destined mate? You might think it's luck and thank the moon goddess for such a twist of fate. That's what I believed until the love of my life uttered those dreaded words: 'I want a divorce!' As I stared at the pregnancy test in my hands, I realized it was better to keep my secret to myself. My name is Violet, and this is my story."
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.
Charlee was left at the altar and became a laughingstock. She tried to keep her head high, but ultimately lost it when she received a sex tape of her fiance and her half-sister. Devastated, she ended up spending a wild night with a hot stranger. It was supposed to be one-time thing, but he kept popping up, helping her with projects and revenge, all while flirting with her constantly. Charlee soon realized that it was nice having him around, until her ex suddenly appeared at her door, begging for another chance. Her tycoon lover asked, “Who will you choose? Think carefully before you answer.”