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  Copyright © 2021 by S.L. SCOTT

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America

  ISBN: 978-1-7371472-3-7

  Cover Photographer: Britt & Bean Photography LLC

  Cover Models: Alexa and Javin

  Cover Designer: RBA Designs

  Editing:

  Marion Archer, Making Manuscripts

  Jenny Sims, Editing4Indies

  Proofreading: Kristen Johnson

  Beta Reading: Andrea Johnston

  Also by S.L. Scott

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  We Were Once

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  Complementary to Crazy in Love

  Never Got Over You

  The One I Want

  We Were Once

  Everest

  Missing Grace

  Finding Solace

  Until I Met You

  Hard to Resist Series (Stand-Alones)

  The Resistance

  The Reckoning

  The Redemption

  The Revolution

  The Rebellion

  The Crow Brothers (Stand-Alones)

  Spark

  Tulsa

  Rivers

  Ridge

  The Crow Brothers Box Set

  DARE - A Rock Star Hero (Stand-Alone)

  The Everest Brothers (Stand-Alones)

  Everest - Ethan Everest

  Bad Reputation - Hutton Everest

  Force of Nature - Bennett Everest

  The Everest Brothers Box Set

  The Kingwood Series

  SAVAGE

  SAVIOR

  SACRED

  FINDING SOLACE - Stand-Alone

  The Kingwood Series Box Set

  Playboy in Paradise Series

  Falling for the Playboy

  Redeeming the Playboy

  Loving the Playboy

  Playboy in Paradise Box Set

  Talk to Me Duet (Stand-Alones)

  Sweet Talk

  Dirty Talk

  Stand-Alone Books

  We Were Once

  Never Got Over You

  The One I Want

  Missing Grace

  Until I Met You

  Drunk on Love

  Naturally, Charlie

  A Prior Engagement

  Lost in Translation

  Sleeping with Mr. Sexy

  Morning Glory

  From the Inside Out

  CRAZY IN LOVE

  S.L. Scott

  S.L. SCOTT

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Epilogue 1

  Epilogue 2

  Never Got Over You

  Chapter 1

  Follow Me

  Thank You

  Prologue

  Harrison Decker

  Catalina Island - Avalon

  I don’t fall for chicks.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not heartless. I’m just wise as to why they’re trying to pin me down. If I’ve learned one thing while growing up in Los Angeles with my last name, it’s that nothing comes without strings attached. Everyone wants something from me. Besides my good looks.

  At this point in my life, I’m more interested in building my career in real estate and proving to my dad that I’ve earned a spot in the family business. Women are fun but a major distraction. I leave my dates sexually satisfied while keeping my emotions out of it. I get in, in every sense, and I get out.

  So why am I staring at the woman sleeping naked beside me, trying to figure out how to make this last more than one night?

  I’m not sure if it was being on a yacht in Catalina Harbor where her smile stole my attention away from the sunset, or how her laughter was the prettiest song I ever heard. She was a siren who called me to her restless sea. And I dived in headfirst, getting lost in her deep ocean.

  On the yacht. On her balcony. Within her sheets.

  Honestly, I’m surprised either of us is awake after the physical fun we’ve had. But just after midnight, she looked up at me. Bare before me as she lay on the bed, she was a study in art and composition with her tanned skin and dark hair poised on a background of crumpled white sheets.

  “We should make a pact.”

  “Oh yeah?” I like that I don’t know what to expect from her. She’s been up for anything and has made me forget the stress I have back home. I grin stupidly while rubbing my hand down her back. “What kind?”

  She’s caught me at the right time. I would give her anything she wants to be able to spend more time together. Our connection is more than our physical attraction. We might be more than just a wild night in Catalina. I’ve never before felt chemistry with someone like what’s sparking between us.

  An unfamiliar feeling in my chest I can’t quite describe.

  A longing.

  A desire that sex won’t satisfy.

  I can tell she’s feeling it, too. It doesn’t matter that we live across the country from each other. I make good money, so we have the freedom to travel and, more importantly, the desire to make something work. Who cares if it’s long-distance?

  There’s so much I want to discover about her. I’d make the effort because we’re more than a weekend.

  It’s a flight.

  A three-day road trip.

  At worst, a week apart.

  Reaching up, she caresses my scruffy cheek. I slide down next to her and angle my body to look into her eyes. I’m what my little sister would call smitten.

  Being with her has me feeling happier than I have in years. That’s because of Tate. She makes me feel like more than just a one-track robot doing what my dad expects of me.

  “I think we need to keep this simple,” Tatum whispers.

  “All right.”

  She curls to the side and strokes my cheek. “This is so good, the best night ever.”

  “Yeah, I think so, too.”

  “Good,” she says, smiling softly. “Let’s not blow it by pretending it can be more.”

  “What?” My heart
sinks . . .

  “Let’s not be one of those ridiculous couples who think they’re different, that they’re special enough to survive a long-distance relationship. I know this is just another night for you, and I’m not the clingy type.” Her eyes dip closed, her smile going with it. She’s hard to read, but her expression doesn’t seem to match her words. Does she actually want more too, but isn’t sure what I want?

  “You’re not?” It’s not what I want to ask.

  Her eyes find mine in the moonlight. “I can’t even keep a plant alive, much less a vacation fling.” Her mood lightens. “I know how this goes, so let’s just set the ground rules and continue the fun.”

  I’m still lost in where this went so horribly wrong when she slips her hand under the sheet and runs her fingertips across my abs. She kisses my shoulder, and then asks, “Are you in?” Right now, I’m not even sure I have a choice.

  I rub my temple and then scrub my hand over my face, utterly confused. “What are we agreeing to?”

  With a smile still residing on her face like she’s just given me a million dollars with no strings attached, she laughs and then taps my nose. “One good night does not make us destined to be together.” Rolling onto her back again, she stares up at the ceiling, but then her gaze slides over to mine. “We’re having fun, am I right?”

  Is there any other answer I can give her? I am having fun, so did I just break a cardinal rule—don’t fall for a one-night stand? Get in. Get out. Move on with my life. “Yeah, sure.”

  My mind is reeling that I’m being dumped by the only woman I considered worthy of more time. Sure, I’ve had girlfriends, but I didn’t feel like this . . . how I felt before she just rejected me, that is. What the fuck is happening?

  As if her idea energizes her, she sits up and faces me. “You don’t have to pretend this is the best sex you’ve ever had.”

  “It is.”

  Giggling, she says, “Me too. Well, you don’t have to lie to me in the morning about an early flight or that you’ll call me. I’m letting you off the hook, Harrison. It is what it is. A one-night stand. I’m so glad we’re on the same page.”

  “What if—?”

  A finger silences me. “No what-ifs. Those will only get us in trouble.” As her hand takes hold of my dick under the sheet, her eyes close, and her mouth presses to mine.

  She’s just given me a free pass to move on without guilt if I don’t call or text her. Ever.

  Great tits. Firm ass. Fan-fucking-tastic mouth. Likes sex. A lot. All without commitment. She’s a wet dream come true for most guys. But if it’s such a good deal, why do I feel like I just got punched in the chest?

  Holding out her hand, she asks, “Deal?”

  Is it the early morning hour messing with my head? This is an offer I can’t resist and one I shouldn’t refuse. I should be celebrating, but all I can think about is that I’m going to be leaving this room in a few hours, and I’ll have no way of ever contacting her again. Fuck.

  I take her hand, and she begins to shake it.

  Her brows pull together. “Are you okay?” I am not okay.

  This not only surprises me but also hurts my ego. Yet I don’t care because there’s no way I’m going to become the clingy one. Fuck that. I cup her face and move in so close that my breath is hers, and hers becomes mine. The faintest hint of wine still lingers from the bottle we finished hours ago, her lips full from the impact of kissing most of the night. “I’m more than okay, baby.”

  Just as she grins, I kiss her. I kiss her so fucking hard that an inferno burns inside, a blaze that only an orgasm can tame. Fuck it.

  If I only get one night with her, it’s going to be the best night of our lives.

  1

  Tatum Devreux

  Four and a half years later . . .

  “I came as fast as I could,” I say, barreling forward as soon as the front door opens and hitting a wall of solid muscle dressed in a black button-down.

  “That’s not how I remember it.” The voice—deep and seductive—causes my insides to tighten. The scent of the man I spent one night with years ago fills my nostrils, my entire being never forgetting. Slowly looking up, I’m greeted by a day’s, maybe two, worth of growth covering the drift of a defined jaw and that Southern California tan I remember so well.

  Only six words were spoken, but Catalina comes racing back to my thoughts like it was last night. It happens every time I see him. Damn him.

  “If I remember correctly, and I remember every one of your orgasms, your body betrays your words, Tate,” he says.

  “It’s Tatum to you.” I hate that my cheeks heat. Only Harrison Decker can do that to me. And I think he knows it. I cross my arms because each time I see him, I swear he gets better looking, and he was sexy as hell to begin with. Hence the vacation fling hookup in Catalina.

  I wanted Harrison from the moment I saw him, although he was a complete stranger, within ten minutes of our introduction I ran off with him.

  If the sight of him before me wasn’t already unnerving, the fact that I still have such a strong reaction to him is. It was one dang night. And one broken promise.

  But I haven’t been able to look him in the eyes since—not at my best friend’s wedding or the few times he’s flown to New York to visit Natalie’s husband, Nick—his best friend.

  I will never understand why he gets under my skin. Why can’t he be water under the bridge like any other one-night stand? Like the others since him have been.

  I’m usually better at hiding my emotions, but I should have been given a heads-up that he was here.

  Daring to look into his Mediterranean blue eyes, I snap, “I didn’t know you were visiting?” Ugh. Why’d I let my voice lilt at the end? The last thing I want is to show how he affects me.

  Leaning against the doorframe, he crosses his arms, wholly amused by the interaction, like he always seems to be around me. I swear he gets off on making me mad or blush, which I do both too easily around him. His biceps tug the fabric tighter, and I can’t help but notice that his muscles have gotten bigger. Wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around my body? “You mean you weren’t warned?”

  So smug. I roll my eyes. “Same difference.”

  “If it’s different, then it’s not the same. Technically.”

  I rolled my eyes too soon. Now would have been the perfect spot to interject that reaction. Fortunately, the door swings wider, and Nick claps him on the shoulder. “Ready to go?” When the wall of a man moves out of my way, Nick sees me and smiles. Natalie definitely scored with that one. “Hey, Tatum. Natalie’s on her way downstairs. Go on in.”

  “Thanks.” Since they’re blocking the entrance, though, I wait for them to exit first.

  Harrison steps onto the stoop beside me, and we stand there awkwardly, too couple-y feeling for my liking. “What?”

  “Just waiting for Nick.”

  “Let’s not make this weird, okay?”

  “Too late, I suspect,” he says, nudging me gently in the arm with his elbow.

  Nick holds the door open for me, and I’m quick to exchange places with him. If I don’t get away from Harrison soon, I have a feeling my eyes will be on a constant rolling loop. Taking the door in hand, I wave with the other. “Don’t have too much fun.”

  “Not without you,” Harrison replies.

  “Just like old times.” Nick chuckles as he trots down the steps of his brownstone. “See you later.”

  Harrison looks back from the sidewalk. “Hey, Tate?”

  So close to getting the door closed . . . I know he calls me that just to piss me off. I open the door just wide enough to peer out again. “What?”

  “I like your hair.” He winks and then gives me that smile that got me in bed the first time. “You look good as a blond.” Damn that delicious grin.

  I shut the door and lean against the back of it. Closing my eyes, I try to bleach my brain of that stupidly handsome face of his. He tried to apologize once . . . but was smart to
back off after that. Too little. Too late.

  “What are you doing?”

  My eyes fly open to see my friend coming toward me. I push off the wood door and wave off the crazy emotions Harrison Decker stirs inside me. It honestly makes no sense why I care at all. I need to forget him like he forgot about me back then. “I ran—”

  “In Jimmy Choos?” Curiosity angles Natalie’s brows as she looks at my shoes. “Are those new?”

  “Fresh off the display. Only one pair in Manhattan and I scored these babies.”

  “Babies,” she says with a softened smile. She suddenly hugs me like she didn’t just see me yesterday or the four days before that. My best friend since birth is the most happy-spirited and hug-loving person I know. “Miss me much, Nat?” I joke, wondering why she’s so sentimental today. I hug her back just as tight. Two peas in a pod.

  “I did, actually.” She takes my hand and pulls me deeper into the newly renovated, four-story townhome. “Word on the avenue is that my next-door neighbors are putting their house on the market after they finish the renovation. I think you should look into it.”

  Her design and décor are a stunning testament to her impeccable taste, and I might add mine since I helped make a lot of the decisions. “I can’t afford a townhome on the Upper East Side, especially the way the market is right now.”