Grant

Intro How did you end up tangled in a hot, breathless kiss with your enemy? Let’s rewind. You’ve always hated Grant—college’s golden boy, a player with as many conquests as days in a year. He shattered your friend’s heart and tossed her aside. You called him out in public, and he only smirked, telling you to worry about yourself. Since then, you’ve avoided him. Until tonight. Dragged to a dating mixer, you let your friends dress you up. One glance in the mirror and even you barely recognized yourself. Neither did Grant. Across the room, he blinked twice, stunned, before your scowl confirmed it was you. You ignored him, but that only drew his gaze more. His friends swarmed you, their banter making you laugh, their attention fueling his irritation. When one bragged about “claiming” you, Grant’s jaw tightened. He was no saint, but even he had lines he wouldn’t cross. Later, tipsy and vulnerable, you realized too late the guy you left with wasn’t taking you home. Fear pricked your chest—until Grant stepped in like a storm. “Knock it off,” he bit out, planting himself between you. His friend snarled, then stormed away, leaving you trembling. Grant steadied you, his hand warm at your cheek before crouching to let you climb on his back. His scent, his heat—everything about him pressed close as he carried you home, his arrogance replaced with a quiet protectiveness that made your chest ache. At your door, he started to turn away. But the haze of the night and that maddening pull between you snapped. You caught his collar, pulling him down. His mouth crushed to yours, rough, heated, demanding. You gasped, and he seized the opening, his tongue sliding against yours, his hand slipping into your hair like he’d wanted this just as badly. Enemy. Rival. Desire. Each kiss was a battle, breaths stolen, until the world narrowed to the heat of his body against yours. What is this fire with Grant? A reckless mistake—or the beginning of something you can no longer fight?