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.

When my grandmother found out she didn’t have long to live, she embarked on a crazy trip—jumping out of airplanes and scuba diving with sharks. After I repeatedly voiced my concern, Gram blocked me—her own grandson—on text and social media, leaving me only her travel companion Eleanor’s number.

The one that got away. Every girl has one, right? Mine was a charming, British aristocrat who turned my world upside down one summer. From the moment I first spotted Leo in the distance through my binoculars, I’d been captivated. I certainly never expected to find a man showering outside of the property across the bay in his birthday suit.

For the last year, I’ve wanted someone I can’t have. The man my father built his latest multimillion-dollar business with. He’s nearly a decade older than I am, and he’s entirely forbidden. The fact that he’s never given me a second glance only makes me long for him more.

A new standalone novel from #1 New York Times bestselling author, Vi Keeland. The night I met Drew Jagger, he'd just broken into my new Park Avenue office. I dialed 9-1-1 before proceeding to attack him with my fancy new Krav Maga skills. He quickly restrained me, then chuckled, finding my attempted assault amusing. Of course, my intruder had to be arrogant. Only, turned out, he wasn't an intruder at all. Drew was the rightful occupant of my new office. He'd been on vacation while his posh space was renovated.

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.

The first time I met Merrick Crawford was during my job interview. Well, technically, I’d met him 20 minutes earlier when he’d barged into a fitting room a few doors down from my appointment. I yelled. He yelled. After an argument while standing in my bra, I proceeded to smash the door into the gorgeous jerk, trying to yank it shut. As you might imagine, I was freaked out when I discovered that the rude guy was my potential new boss. Yet he didn’t seem to recognize me. Or so I thought.... Until we wound up bickering again during my interview and he told me to go sniff my armpit.

It was the summer of my life. I’d met the guy of my dreams. Unfortunately, he was the son of my uppity employer - and very much off-limits. But Gavin was a rebel. He knew his mother would disown him if she found out about us; in his eyes, we just had to be careful. He never treated me as his mother did - like hired help. Instead, Gavin put me on a pedestal and loved me harder than I’d ever been loved in my life.

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.

Growing up, the three of us were friends. He was the nerd. I was the playboy. She was the beauty. Deep down, I only ever wanted her. I kept it inside because Rory and I made a pact that our friend, Amber, was off-limits. He lied. I went off to college, and he got the girl. Amber never knew how I felt. They were together for years - before he broke her heart. Through it all and across the miles, she and I casually stayed in touch. When my job sent me to Boston for a three-month contract position, Amber let me stay in her spare room.

They called him Mack Daddy. No, seriously, his name was Mack. Short for Mackenzie. Thus, the nickname. Perfect, right? So was he: perfect. The perfect physical male specimen. At the private school where I taught, Mack Morrison was the only man around in a sea of women.

I’d never forgotten him - a man I’d yet to meet. Griffin Quinn was my childhood pen pal, the British boy who couldn’t have been more different from me. Over the years, through hundreds of letters, we became best friends, sharing our deepest, darkest secrets and forming a connection I never thought could break. Until one day, it did. Then, out of the blue, a new letter arrived. A scathing one - one with eight years of pent-up anger. I had no choice but to finally come clean as to why I stopped writing. Griffin forgave me, and we were able to rekindle our childhood connection.

Reasons why I should not be drawn to Troy Serrano. Number one: He’s obnoxious. Number two: We were enemies more than a decade ago. Number three: He’s my friend’s ex-boyfriend. I could go on and on, really. When my boss gives me an unwanted assignment, and tells me it involves spending time with the grandson of one of our residents, the grandson turns out to be Troy. Lucky me. Four hours a week of having to deal with his insufferable personality and unsolicited advice - the only consolation is getting to stare at his annoyingly gorgeous face, in between our many arguments.

It started out like any other Tuesday. I spent 12 hours writing algorithms for one of the largest companies in the world and then came home to work on a pet project of mine—feeding facts about the men I knew into a formula to find my perfect match before my twenties came barreling to a close.

The feud between Weston Lockwood and me started at the altar. Only neither of us attended the wedding, and the nuptials happened decades before either of us was born. Our grandfathers had been best friends and business partners, at least up until my grandfather’s wedding day - when his bride-to-be blurted out she couldn’t marry him because she was also in love with Weston‘s grandfather.