Hate to Love You

I crawled into Ryan Jensen’s bed that first night by accident. I barely knew him. I thought it was his sister’s bed - her room. It took seconds to realize my error, and I should've left... I didn’t. I didn’t jump out. I didn’t get embarrassed. I relaxed. And that night, in that moment, it was the only thing I craved. I asked to stay. He let me, and I slept. The truth? I never wanted to leave his bed. If I could've stayed forever, I would have. He became my sanctuary. Because - four hours earlier - my twin sister killed herself. 

He told me to settle. He asked what was wrong with me. He called me an easy target. That was within minutes when I first met Caden Banks. I labeled him an asshole, but he was more than that. Arrogant. Smug. Alpha. He was also to-die-for gorgeous, and my stepbrother's fraternity brother. Okay, yes I was a little naive, a tad bit socially awkward, and the smallest amount of stalker-ish, but if Caden Banks thought he could tell me what to do, he had another thing coming.

One punch took him from Hollywood’s Golden Boy to Bad Boy Brody. The media didn’t care he was grieving his brother’s death. They descended on him, but to change his reputation, his manager got him a deal. Act in an indie film, one that already had Oscar buzz, and he’d get the movie roles he needed to secure his future. He took the deal. Yet he wasn’t prepared for the real-life people behind the script. He wasn’t prepared for the murder the movie was based on. And he really wasn’t prepared for her, the biggest secret of all. She was wild. She was beautiful. She defied gravity.

How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons: Snag a gorgeous rental on the beach. Check. Get a job at a trendy summer haunt. Check. How to screw up a great summer in the Hamptons: Fall for the one guy with a dark leather jacket, scruff on his face, and intense eyes that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the tony-looking crowd. A guy you can’t have when you’ll be leaving at the end of the season. Check. Check. Check. 

It should have been easy. I needed the money. He needed a babysitter to keep him from snorting himself to death. I was cherry-picked especially for him. Responsible. Optimistic. Warm. Innocent. The worst part is that I should have known better. Alex Winslow. British rock star. Serial heartbreaker. Casanova with whiskey eyes. “Don’t get near the devil in a leather jacket. He’ll chew you up and spit you out.” Guess what? I didn’t listen. I signed the contract. World tour. Three months. Four Continents. 100 shows. My name is Indigo Bellamy, and I sold my soul to a tattooed god. 

I shouldn't have remembered him. He was just a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn't know his name. We never made eye contact. There was no connection between us at all. But I could feel him. The tingle down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.

We met in the least likely of places. It started out innocently enough. I was “ScreenGod”, and she was “Montana”, but of course those weren’t our actual names, just the virtual cloaks we hid behind. Logging in at night and talking to her was my escape - my sanctuary. Her real name was Eden, I’d soon come to find out. From the first time we connected online, I found myself transfixed. She was an addiction. At first, we knew nothing about each other’s real identities...and she was adamant that we keep things that way.

Some days, all you need is a message from a stranger. Ruby Santos knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she signed up to write a soldier overseas. The guidelines were simple: one letter or email a week for the length of his or her deployment. Care packages were optional. Been there, done that. She thought she knew what to expect. What she didn't count on was falling in love with the guy.

It's a long story, but I messed up at work. Big time. To earn back the trust of my boss, I promised to save one of our magazines. Yep. That Hot Dad contest you've seen advertised all over the place was my idea. And if I'm successful, if I'm able to increase our online readership, then I get a shot at my dream job. But the one thing I never expected to happen, happened: Contestant number 10, Grayson Malone. Hello, Mr. Difficult. And did I mention sexy as hell? Unfortunately he knows me. The old me, anyway. I remind him of before. Of the woman who broke his heart....

Grant Malone is not the reason I moved back to Sunnyville - at least that’s what I tell myself. Yet, those parting words I said to him back in third grade ring in my ears every time a towns-person brings up one of the Malone boys. I thought time had healed my wounds. I was wrong. Nothing could have prepared me for how I felt when I finally saw him again. Twenty years does a lot to turn a boy into a man. One who hits all my buttons - sexy, funny, attractive, and a police officer.

Rex Gunner. As bitter as he is beautiful. The owner of the largest construction company in Gingham Lakes has been burned one too many times. His wife leaving him to raise their daughter was the last blow this single dad could take. The only woman he'll let into his heart is his little girl. When Rex meets his new neighbor, he knows he's in trouble. She's gorgeous and sweet and everything he can't trust. Until she becomes the one thing he can't resist.

Ruby Scott is months behind on rent and can't seem to land a steady job. She has one chance to turn things around with a big audition. But instead of getting her big break, she gets sick as a dog and completely bombs it in the most humiliating fashion. All thanks to a mysterious, gorgeous guy who kissed - and then coughed on - her at a party the night before.

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Look up Landon Roderick, that boy from childhood whom I'd never been able to forget - even though he so easily forgot about me - and call him. Then again, anything sounds like a good idea when you've had a little too much wine before bed, right? It was supposed to be just a quick, meaningless prank call. Instead I went off on him - unloading 13 years of pent-up emotions. I didn't think he'd call me back.

It was just a typical Monday. Until the big boss asked me to make the pitch for a prospective new client. After two years on shaky ground at work because of my screw up, an opportunity to impress the senior partners was just what I needed. Or so I thought, until I walked into the conference room and collided with the man I was supposed to pitch to. My coffee spilled, my files tumbled to the ground, and I almost lost my balance. And that was the good part of my day. Because the gorgeous man who crouched down and looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive was none other than my ex.

He’s my best friend’s older brother, off limits and incredibly tempting. I shouldn’t peak into Brendon’s sketchbook, even if the tattoo artist is as brooding and stoic as the day is long. I can’t help myself. I peel it open, run my fingers along the paper, soak up every ounce of him. His drawings are as beautiful and bold as his dark eyes and his cocky smile. Only, there, on the third page - that’s no tattoo mockup. That’s me. Naked. Ready. Waiting in his bed.