The boy next door. That’s what he was. Dash Frasier—my hero from the day we met, when I was six and he was nine. His sister was my best friend, the three of us one happy crew. Then one sweaty summer night changed everything.
No one understood me like Dash. No one made me feel so loved. That’s why, when he skipped town, it wrecked me.
Now I’m older. Wiser. I’ve just snagged my dream job, writing at a film studio. The lead animator on my project? You guessed it.
He’s not the boy next door. Not anymore.
I’m guarding my heart this time.
But Dash has secrets that could break us both.
Ella James is the USA Today bestselling author of sixteen teen and adult love stories. She's an angst-a-holic who loves exploring difficult situations and the emotions of the people caught up in them. Also, smut. But always, always romance.
Ella's obsessions include vanilla cream soda, hiking, other weird, crunchy things like rock collecting, and the antics of her three little monsters.
To find out more about her projects, follow her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/ellajamesbooks, tweet her at author_ellaj or follow her on Instagram (authorellajames).
Interested in the foreign rights for one of Ella’s books? Contact her agent, Rebecca Friedman, at firstname.lastname@example.org.
::: Bonus :::
::: Bonus :::
Crown Jewels will be on sale, #FREE for the week!
That's right, you can purchase this book for free & The Boy Next Door for $0.99.
Sale ends Saturday!!!
══ More about this Book ══
After that close-up of his package on the sailboat in Morocco, TMZ started calling him Crown Jewels.
Not that I keep track of Prince Liam. Definitely don’t stalk him online like my friends do.
I’m out of that scene now. My family’s reality show might still be running, but I’ve been off-screen for a while. When people pass me on the sidewalk, they might squint, but most of them don’t scream “Lucy Rhodes” and ask about my love of Lucky Charms or how my broken toe healed.
Prince Liam—my stalking his Instagram—that’s just for fun. It’s my dirty little secret. Trust me, I’m the only woman in the world who doesn’t actually want him.
Except I’m back in the Hamptons for the first time in two years. I’m at a party, and Prince Manwhore is here as well. I tell myself that smile has no effect on me. That his ridiculous charisma is a parlor trick I see right through.
After our one night together, no one knows that I succumbed.
It doesn’t matter. It meant nothing.
Not until I see those two pink lines.