The last thing I’m looking for is a guy.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan. But after my ex sent my heart through a wood chipper, I need a minute.

Which is why Levi is such a problem.

When the smokeshow walks into my party, there’s no avoiding him. He looks at me like I’m a juicy, rare steak, and he hasn’t had a meal in a week.

Pretty sure he’ll devour me. All I have to do is give him permission.

We’re from different worlds—he’s leather jackets and motorcycles, and I’m a trust fund kid hailing from the Upper East—but that’s not our biggest problem.

I’m pretty sure he has a secret.

A secret that could bring down my entire world.

I wasn’t looking for a guy, but the guy found me.

And neither my heart nor my secrets are safe.

*Previously titled Fool Me Once

My summer internship at the Met is going to be hot, and the temperature has nothing to do with it.

Because marble isn’t the only thing that’s hard at this museum.

My cocky boss’ body is as chiseled as Adonis. His lips as sculpted as David. And his ego is the size of the Guggenheim.

You know the type—wolfish smile and the gravity of a black hole. The kind of man who sucks all the air from the room the second he enters it. He thinks this internship was wasted on me, and he doesn’t hesitate to let me know.

But he’s wrong, and I’m going to prove it to him. If I can stay away from his devilish lips, that is. Lips that cut me down and kiss me in the same breath, leaving me certain he’s on a mission to ruin my life.

And maybe my heart, too.

No one can ever have Keaton Meyer.

Least of all me.

The brooding construction manager is a man of myth and legend, rarely seen in the wild. Once upon a time, he was the star quarterback, the smiling homecoming king, royalty in our small town. Until tragedy struck. And then he disappeared completely.

Now he’s resurfaced, and I can’t keep my eyes off him.

He’s an island surrounded by lava, bound by a desert and guarded by dragons. I don’t stand a sunshine’s chance in a hail storm.

Our siblings disagree and are out to prove it, nudging us into each other in the hopes we’ll fall. But with our town in tumult and the two of us firmly in the middle, nothing between us is easy. And when he’s faced with an impossible decision, I learn the truth of what I already knew.

No one can have Keaton Meyer.

And I have the broken heart to prove it.

Bestselling author Staci Hart brings you a smoldering enemies to lovers, gender flipped twist on the Bennets of Pride and Prejudice.

I hate Luke Bennet.

The Bennet brothers have come home to save the family’s flower shop where I work, and Luke is at the helm. Armed with an irresistible smile and unrivaled charm, he swoops in just like he always does, without a care in the world or a serious bone in his gorgeous body.

He’s so sincere in his determination to save Longbourne, I almost can’t be mad at him.

Almost.

He doesn’t remember the night I’ll never forget. That kiss, touched with whiskey and fire, branded me like a red-hot iron. But it meant nothing to him.

I hate Luke Bennet.

Because if I don’t, I’ll fall in love with him.

Falling in love with a Bennet is not an option.

My mother has summoned me home to take my place at Bower Bouquets, and I’m expected to sit by her side as she does her best to decimate the Bennet family and their flower shop, Longbourne. If I don’t play by her rules, she’ll ruin me too.

But the day I crash into Marcus Bennet, my life is left scattered in the wreckage.

When he catches me in the rain, the topography of his lean, rugged body leaves a permanent impression. His arms locked around me are forbidden, even though they’re the only place I’ve felt truly safe.

And when he kisses me, there’s no turning back.

If my mother finds out, I’ll lose everything—my family, my life, my security. Worse, she’ll make sure the Bennets pay for my mistakes.

Falling in love with a Bennet is not an option.

But I might not have a choice.

Chemistry is my love language.

There’s no magic to falling in love. A shot of dopamine, a dash of serotonin, and a sprinkle of oxytocin—and bam. You’re in.

And when egg meets sperm, you’re pregnant.

Staring down at the little blue plus sign. I know exactly when and how, and with whom it happened.

When: approximately five weeks ago.
Who: one night stand.
How: prophylactic malfunction.

Genetically, he’s the cream of the crop. His musculature is a study in symmetry and strength, his height imposing, dominant. He is a man who thrives on control and command, a man who survives on intelligence and resourcefulness. A perfect male specimen.

And the whole package is wrapped up in a flawlessly tailored suit.

I’m having the baby, and he insists we’re well-suited to have it together. And what’s worse? He wants more, in the way of love and marriage.

But love isn’t real. It’s just a product of chemistry.

And if he changes my mind about that, we’re both in trouble.

I’ve built my life to perfection—the perfect boyfriend, the perfect apartment, the perfect career planning celebrity weddings. But when it all implodes, the gardener at Longbourne is there with a plan to make it better, offering deliverance by way of his beastly arms, roped and corded with muscles, gleaming with sweat and peppered with dirt.

They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone new, and Kash is ready to prove that right too. The plan is simple enough: let him sweep me off his feet and into his bed, and when my heart is mended, that would be that.

What wasn’t part of the plan? Falling in love with him.

They say there’s no such thing as perfect, but he’s as close as I’ve ever come. I have everything to lose, and it’s all in his hands.

But I was a fool for believing anything they say.

And I never should have tested the theory with my heart.

My crush is a player.

It’s bad enough to find out he actually knows I exist, but on the mortifying offer to teach me how to date, I accept. God knows I need all the help I can get.

I’m a model student, front row, pencil sharp. Pick up lines? I’ve got them. Free drinks? By the dozen. Kissing? Let me grab my lip balm.

But the most valuable lesson I learn is that there’s so much I don’t know. Like why his touch sets off a chain reaction straight to my nethers. Or how I’m certain each kiss is the best I’ll ever have until the moment his lips take mine again.

There’s so much I don’t know. Like how it feels to have my heart broken.

But he’s down to teach me that lesson too.

I always knew he was a player.

And I’m the fool who fell in love with him.