Award winning kisses only, sweet romance.

My best friend’s annoying brother, some spilled tea, and a crazy proposition.

Josh Owens is the top receiver in the NFL, with a bad boy reputation. He’s click bait fodder for any, and all, gossip columns.

A released video shows us “kissing”, and the news is spreading like wildfire.Now me, "good girl" Brie, is in the rumor mills with him.

His agent sees this as a golden opportunity for Josh to get on better terms with his team.I think it’s crazy, but Josh needs help.

In spite of our love-hate relationship, I agree to be his “girlfriend”.

Spending time with him, I get to know the real person, not just the one who’s constantly pushing my buttons.

I can’t deny that I don’t hate him.In fact, I like him.A lot.

As fake kisses feel more real, Josh brings up making "us" a reality.

Only one problem.When my parents died, my heart went on lock down.

Can the bane of my existence be the one who’s had the key all along?

This is a sweet, kisses only, best friend's brother, forced proximity, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, and happily ever after. Let yourself get swept up with Josh and Brie! I hope you fall in love with the two of them and are left wanting more! This book is a standalone.

I can't borrow him.He's not a sweater or a skirt.He's not even her favorite dress—the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him.In my defense, I didn't know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers. But my blush came quickly, and his dimples indented with every smile. We definitely shared a spark of what could be.Too bad I didn't know who he was before I fell for him, because he can't be mine.

I can't borrow him.He's not a sweater or a skirt.He's not even her favorite dress—the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him.In my defense, I didn't know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers. But my blush came quickly, and his dimples indented with every smile. We definitely shared a spark of what could be.Too bad I didn't know who he was before I fell for him, because he can't be mine.

I can't borrow him.He's not a sweater or a skirt.He's not even her favorite dress—the lucky one she wears on first dates. The one she probably wore on her first date with him.In my defense, I didn't know who he was. To me, he was a cool, calm, confident stranger. He was perfection for the entire hour and a half train ride while the concrete jungle turned into a rolling green landscape.To an outsider, we probably appeared more friends than hopeful lovers. But my blush came quickly, and his dimples indented with every smile. We definitely shared a spark of what could be.Too bad I didn't know who he was before I fell for him, because he can't be mine.