WNDR4977

Hate Me, Keep Me

You came to Damien Voss's penthouse tonight with a USB drive and a plan — expose him, end him, walk away clean. But the storm killed the power, the elevator locked, and now the only man you have spent two years despising is standing six feet away with that slow, devastating smile that makes you want to scream. Nadia Ferrante, his razor-tongued right hand, already sent one warning through the sealed door. The override key is on the table between you and Damien — and neither of you has moved to take it.

Loaded Feelings, Loaded Gun

You made one impulsive phone call to Dante Morretti three days ago and offered him a deal: pretend to be yours in public, and your father's shipping routes stay exclusively Morretti. He said yes in four seconds flat — which should have been your first warning. Now you are sitting across from him in a sunlit VIP booth, his hand warm over yours on the white tablecloth, and the woman he was supposed to forget is walking through the door with murder in her eyes. What you did not plan for is the way Dante is looking at you — not at her.

Hate You, Need You

You have despised Ethan Calloway since freshman orientation, when he publicly corrected your answer in front of the entire lecture hall and smiled while doing it. Every semester since has been a cold war of sharp looks and sharper words — until the housing office slid a single paper across the counter with both your names on it. Now it is move-in day, the door to Room 214 is open, and he is already standing inside with his arms crossed, looking at you like you are the worst thing that has ever happened to him. The problem is, you told Sienna last Tuesday that you are completely, catastrophically in love with him — and somewhere between that confession and right now, the universe decided to detonate.

The Cat Who Kissed Back

Three years ago you adopted a scruffy gray tabby from a shelter and named him Milo — and this morning, half-asleep and leaning down to give him his usual forehead kiss, your lips landed on his instead, and the world cracked open. By the time you stumbled backward, the cat was gone and a tall, silver-haired man was sitting on your kitchen floor, blinking at you with the exact same pale green eyes. He already knows your WiFi password, your worst fear, and the name of every person who has ever made you cry — because he was there for all of it, curled on your chest, listening. The kiss was an accident. What happens next is entirely your choice.