In the sizzling hockey romance that has taken TikTok by storm, a dedicated player struggles with the number one team rule: don’t go near the captain’s sister. The second book in the globally popular Playing for Keeps series. He’s found the perfect person—but she’s the only one he can’t be with… Garrett Andersen knows that playing professional hockey requires absolute dedication to the rules. There’s just one rule he’s finding difficult to follow: stay away from his captain’s younger sister. As a professional dancer, Jennie Beckett knows what it takes to excel. She prides herself on being every bit as confident and bold as her brother, sassy as hell, and the only person in charge of her pleasure. No wonder Garrett can’t stay away from her—even if he forgets how to form sentences whenever she’s around. Jennie would rather avoid her brother’s teammate, especially after several embarrassing run-ins, but suddenly they’re neighbors. And as the connection between them grows, Garrett and Jennie decide to have some fun, no strings attached. Between their busy schedules and her brother’s disapproval, they know keeping things casual and low-key is the smartest play. But what if their feelings get in the way? After all, they’re only supposed to be playing with each other…

From author Meghan Quinn, comes a fresh take on a romantic comedy classic, When Harry Met Sally. This steamy, laugh-out-loud, enemies to lovers romance is about an annoyingly handsome coworker and the woman who refuses to be charmed by him. Am I friends with JP Cane? Ha! That's laughable. Besides the fact that he’s adopted some far-fetched notion from the movie When Harry Met Sally that says men and women can't be friends and work together, it’s safe to say we're not friends. He's annoyingly loud, obnoxiously handsome, and has made an art out of poking all my hot buttons . . . multiple times a day. So you can imagine how disgruntled I am when I not only have to fly to San Francisco with him for work, but stay in the same penthouse. Yup, we're sharing the same air, twenty-four-seven. We're talking full-fledged working roommates. The man doesn't know what it means to wear a shirt, thrives off protein bars, and you guessed it, moans loud enough for people to believe he's Meg Ryan in a restaurant. Spoiler Alert: I WON'T be having what he's having. Tack on his continuous flirting and his polished good looks, and I'm caught staring down the barrel of a seductive temptation that makes it hard for me to sleep at night. But guess who can control herself? This girl. Because if there is one thing I know for certain, it's that JP Cane and I are so not meant to be.

She's been driving him wild for years . . . the good kind of wild. The kind of wild that comes with wanting your best friend's little sister and knowing you can't have her. Forbes may have labeled Ford Grant the World's Hottest Billionaire, but all he cares about is escaping the press and opening a recording studio in gorgeous small town Rose Hill. Something that comes to a screeching halt when he ends up face-to-face with a young girl who claims he's her biological father. Now, he spends his days balancing business with parenting a sullen twelve-year-old, all while trying desperately to keep his hands the hell off his best friend's sister, Rosie Belmont. After living in the city, Rosie came blasting back into town like a storm. Beautiful, messy, and chaotic. And one wide-eyed, desperate plea for a job is all it takes for Ford to hire her. He vows to keep her at arm's length. Tries to stick to scowls and grumpy one-liners. But with her, verbal sparring is a type of foreplay―friction that soon turns to blistering heat. Ford knows damn well he shouldn't cross this line. But shouldn't and can't are two very different things. And the only thing he truly can't do is resist her.

How did you two meet? The quintessential question asked to every couple. And the answer is usually some bubbly, lovey dovey tale of being struck in the bum by Cupid’s arrow. My meet cute (well not so meet cute) is slightly different. I was trolling a wealthy neighborhood in Beverly Hills, searching for someone to take me as their bride, you know, to make my arch nemesis jealous who consequently just fired me. He was stomping around the block like some sort of gorgeous ogre, mumbling about a business deal gone wrong and attempting to finagle his way out of it. And that’s when we bumped into each other. There were no sparks. Not even a hint of blossoming love. But next thing I knew, I was scarfing down free chips and guac, listening to this man lay out all of his problems which led to his big ask . . . he wanted me to be his Vivian Ward, you know, from Pretty Woman--minus the frisky behavior. We’re talking about living in a mansion, intimate double dates, and pretending we were head over heels in love . . . and engaged. Can you imagine? The absolute audacity. But people do crazy things when they’re desperate. And I reeked of desperation. So, I struck up a deal. My one big mistake, though . . . big . . . HUGE? I accidentally fell for the incomparable Huxley Cane.