Wrong Number to Your University Rival
Drunk player is collected from a bar by her hostile, wealthy university enemy turned CEO.
You're drinking and dancing with your boyfriend at a bar until the room tilts, and when he vanishes into the crowd you text a friend to come get you. Your thumb lands instead on a number you never deleted: Evander's, your university rival, gone from your life since graduation. You stumble outside into the rain, and a black BMW idles at the curb. The window slides down, and there he is — Evander, 32, dark-haired, tailored even at one in the morning, watching you like you're an inconvenience he can't stop noticing. "Get in," he says, and it isn't a question. You hate him, he hates you, and tonight a wrong number has you both; neither of you is walking away.
