Off Camera

When Callie returns home for the summer, staying at her best friend Mia's house feels like slipping back into childhood, until she sees Grayson Carter again. Once her best friend's quiet, overworked dad, Grayson is now older, rougher, and dangerously irresistible. He remembers her as a girl with ink-stained fingers and a reckless laugh. Now, she is a woman who is confident, sharp-tongued, and completely off-limits. Neither of them meant to start crossing lines. But whispered glances turn into midnight encounters. Denial becomes an obsession. And one forbidden moment changes everything. As passion collides with guilt, Callie and Grayson are forced to choose between the love they shouldn't want and the consequences they can't escape. Off Limits is a slow-burn forbidden romance filled with raw chemistry, emotional damage, and a love story that is anything but clean.

Connie Reid doesn't date athletes. She doesn't talk about her past. And she definitely doesn't play hockey anymore. She built her new life at Crestfield University carefully — warm smile, sharp instincts, a matchmaking reputation that keeps everyone else's love lives running smoothly while her own heart stays locked away. It works perfectly. Until the university board decides her skills belong to them. The deal is simple and non-negotiable: fake a relationship with Kyrian Maddox — Crestfield's most controversial hockey recruit — on a live reality dating show, or watch her most painful secret broadcast to every student on campus. Kyrian Maddox doesn't explain himself to anyone. He arrived at Crestfield already carrying a scandal he didn't cause and a reputation he can't escape. The PR arrangement forced on him is just another thing he has no choice but to endure. The girl they've paired him with is warm, clever and reads people like open books. He finds that deeply suspicious. Off camera they're strangers who tolerate each other in cold silence. On camera they're convincing enough to trend. But the longer they share a house, an ice rink and the weight of secrets neither will speak aloud, the harder it becomes to remember where the performance ends. Then the boy who destroyed Connie's life walks into the show house smiling like no time has passed. And everything she buried starts clawing its way back to the surface. Kyrian notices the shift in her before she can hide it. What he doesn't know yet is that protecting her might cost him everything he came to Crestfield to rebuild. Some performances become real. Some secrets refuse to stay buried. And some people are worth burning everything down for.

Among the world's female models, Julian Vance once again ranked first as the photographer they most wanted to spend a night with. And yet he had never taken a single photograph of me. When reporters asked about it, he could never hide the fondness in his eyes. "My wife is for my eyes only. No one else gets that privilege." On my birthday, I happily changed into a lace nightdress and, for the first time, asked him to record me with his camera. Several minutes passed. The shutter never sounded. Behind the camera, Julian's expression had gone stiff. "Forget it," he said. My joy collapsed into confusion. "What's wrong?" "It's just..." He laughed dryly. "Photography is work. I don't want to mix you up with work." Then he put the camera back, turned around, and went into the bathroom. The door to the darkroom where he developed his photos was half open, red light spilling through the crack. I walked inside and saw an album on the worktable titled Vivian Blair's Private Diary. I opened it. Inside were photos in every degree of intimacy and every kind of pose.

I had been dating a photographer for seven years, yet I didn't have a single decent photo of myself. "I only photograph scenery, not people," Nina Jensen said. She even said her last relationship ended because her ex-boyfriend kept asking her to take pictures of him. So for seven years, I stayed quiet. I never asked or brought it up. That was until today, when I came across the latest post from my influencer friend, Julian Locke. [Let me show off my photographer. She's been taking amazing photos of me for seven years for free!] One of the top comments is: [It's an honor to photograph my muse.] The profile picture was completely white. The tone felt familiar, and it sent a chill through my entire body. Turns out, it wasn't that Nina didn't take photos of people. She just never wanted to take mine. 'Nina. If I don't exist in your viewfinder, from now on, you don't exist in my world either.'

'Since when did so much hate become affection, no, NEED' Callum Reyes has spent his entire life earning his place. A scholarship wide receiver at Crestfield University — one of the most elite football programs in the country — he knows exactly what he is to the people here: a charity case with fast legs and a GPA they didn't expect. He keeps his head down, his grades up, and his heart locked behind something no one has ever bothered to pick. Then there's Jaxon Whitfield. Quarterback. Team captain. Golden boy of Crestfield's football dynasty. Jaxon is everything Callum isn't — legacy money, a famous last name, and a jaw that could cut glass. He's also, by every measurable standard, the most infuriating human being Callum has ever been forced to share oxygen with. From the first day Callum stepped onto that field, Jaxon decided he was a problem. Too fast. Too good. Too'there.' He rides Callum harder than any other player, gets under his skin in ways that shouldn't be possible, and looks at him with those dark green eyes like Callum is something he can't figure out — and hates himself for trying. But when a career-threatening injury, a locker room secret, a rivalry that's starting to feel like something else entirely, and one night neither of them planned for collide — Callum and Jaxon have to reckon with something they were never supposed to feel. 'Offside' is a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers MM sports romance about two young men learning that the person who makes your blood boil might just be the person setting you on fire. It's about class and legacy, found family and loneliness, the weight of expectation, and what happens when the one person you want to hate is the only one who actually'sees' you.

At the start of graduation season, my boyfriend took more than two hundred photos of Madison Vale. Chase Whitman was president of Westbridge University’s photography club. He knew how to find flattering light and how to coax people out of stiff smiles. Madison stood beneath the maples outside the library in a white dress, her graduation cap tucked under one arm. “Am I taking up too much of your time?” she asked. Chase checked the last few shots and smiled. “You make my job easy.” When it was finally my turn, he barely looked at me. “Stand by the tree.” He clicked the shutter twice and lowered the camera. “Done.” I stared at him. “That’s it?” He turned the screen toward me. In one photo my eyes were half-closed; in the other, a branch shadow slashed diagonally across my face. “Can we try again?” Chase sighed. “Avery, you always tense up. Fifty more takes won’t change that.” Ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. He had posted in the Westbridge Buy: Twenty dollars for someone to spend ten minutes taking a few graduation photos of my girlfriend. Nothing fancy. She just needs something usable. Half an hour later, a stranger replied. I sent him my location, then added: Just so you know, I’m not very photogenic. His answer came almost immediately: That usually says more about the photographer than about the subject. When Rowan Hayes arrived, he looked at Chase’s two photos and said, “He didn’t even try.” An hour later, he sent me the raw files. No filters, no heavy retouching. Just me on the library steps, my hair loose in the wind and my eyes brighter than I remembered them being.