LOGINAria James thought she had her life figured out—small-town survival, a controlling boyfriend she pretends to love, and a future she stopped dreaming about a long time ago. But when her car breaks down and the only man to answer the call is the boy who broke her heart and hardened his own—Kade fucking Calloway—everything she thought she knew goes up in flames. Childhood enemies, grown too bitter, too bruised, and too damn drawn to each other to stay apart. Every encounter between Aria and Kade is a battleground—sharp words, hot glares, and enough tension to burn the whole damn town down. He’s everything she’s sworn to hate. She’s everything he’s tried to forget. But hate has a fine, fucking line, princess. And once they cross it, there’s no going back. Small towns remember everything. Secrets are currency. And love? Love is the most dangerous game of all.
View MoreAria – POV The light hits me like a bitch. My head’s pounding. My mouth tastes like regret and gummy bears. And there’s an elbow pressed into my ribcage that’s definitely not mine. “Sloane,” I groan, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. “Tell me I didn’t make out with a blender.” She snorts beside me, buried under half a blanket and a very questionable tank top. “If you did, I think I dry-humped the washer. What even was last night?” “I remember wine. Laughter. Possibly humping Kade in the laundry room.” “Definitely. I walked in on that,” she mumbles into the pillow. “You’re welcome.” I roll over, wincing, my body sore in the best and worst ways. “Where are we?” “Kade’s bed,” she grunts. “Smells like cedar and bad decisions.” I laugh—then immediately regret it. “Ugh. Coffee. We need coffee. Maybe a resurrection spell.” “Hair of the dog?
Sloane – POVThe sun’s warm but not punishing, the gravel crunching under my heels as I lean against the hood of Henry’s car, arms crossed, trying real hard not to keep looking at him.Spoiler: I’m failing.Henry Nichols. Used to be all knobby elbows and oversized glasses. Ran track like a deer on Red Bull and stammered every time I looked at him.This? This is not that boy.This Henry is tall. Calm. Lean in a deliberate kind of way. Built like he doesn’t advertise it—strength tucked beneath his fitted button-up and easy smile. He smells like cedar and clean soap, and I hate how aware I am of that.“Well,” I say, trying to keep the smirk out of my voice as I watch Aria and Kade disappear behind the screen door like they’re about to turn that old house into a fuckin’ crime scene, “you didn’t tell me this listing came with live-action porn.”Henry chuckles low in his throat. “I figured the view would sell itself.”“Mmm. You mean them or the kitchen?”“Depends,” he shoots back smoothly.
Kade – POV The truck growls down the gravel lane, tires spitting dust into the fading light. I don’t bother with music. Her voice is still in my head—sweet, sinful, dripping in tease. Hardwood floors. Kitchen island. Porch swing that squeaks. My knuckles flex on the wheel. I see her the second the house comes into view. Sitting on the swing like she owns the goddamn sun. Legs crossed, curls wild, one bare shoulder peeking out from that loose blouse like an invitation. The breeze plays with her hair and she smiles up at me as I park, and it’s over. I’m out of the truck before it’s even fully off, boots hitting dirt, eyes locked on her like a man starved. She stands just as I reach her, and I don’t stop. I sweep her up—arms around her thighs, lifting her until her feet leave the ground—and kiss her like oxygen’s a thing I only find in her mouth. She gasps, and I take it—deeper, harder. Tongue brushing hers, hands gripping her tighter as she melts against me, wine-sweet and breath
Aria – POV We’re still breathless from laughter when my phone buzzes. Sloane’s mid-rant about the tragedy of low-rise jeans making a comeback, but I’ve already glanced down at the screen—and I freeze. Kade [Thinking about how you tasted this morning.] [Thinking about how I didn’t get to finish.] [Thinking about bending you over the next available surface.] [You still sore, baby? Or do I need to remind you how good it gets?] Heat floods my spine like molten honey. My thighs clench. And I may or may not make a noise that sounds like I choked on my own soul. Sloane smirks. “Tell me he didn’t just send a dick pic.” “No,” I squeak. “Worse.” She grabs the phone, reads, and whistles low. “Well. Someone’s feral.” I slide it back into my bag with trembling fingers. “We need a task. A mission. A distraction before I end up dragging him into the back seat of his truck in broad daylight.” Sloane grins wide. “Perfect. Let’s find you a place.” I blink. “Today?” “There






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