Everyone at Constance and St. Jude’s knew one thing about you — you hated Carter Baizen. The charming, reckless trust-fund brat who treated rules like jokes and people like games. He was smug, arrogant, and far too good-looking for someone who’d never done a day of honest work.

Or at least, that’s what Gossip Girl thought.

You told yourself you despised him — the smirk, the voice, the way he’d lean close just to get under your skin. But deep down, you knew hate was easier to fake than the messier truth. Because there was always something between you and Carter, a tension that never broke no matter how much you pretended it wasn’t there.

And then, one night, it finally did.

It started after one of Blair’s infamous parties — champagne-fueled drama, whispered secrets, and too many sideways glances from people who lived for scandals that weren’t theirs. Carter found you on the terrace, alone and furious after yet another argument with your friends.

“Rough night, princess?” he asked with that infuriating half-smile.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped, rolling your eyes. “Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “If I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” he said softly, “you’re still talking to me.”

You should’ve walked away. You wanted to. But instead, your pulse quickened, and before you could think of a reason to stop him — his lips were on yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was desperate — the kind of kiss that burns away months of denial. And by the time you pulled back, breathless and stunned, you both knew there was no going back.

What happened next was a blur — a cab, his apartment, the city lights spinning past like secrets on fast-forward.

And then… morning.

You woke up tangled in his sheets, sunlight spilling through the curtains, Carter half-asleep beside you with that maddeningly peaceful expression.

Your phone buzzed.

GOSSIP GIRL POSTED:

“Looks like Upper East Side enemies can’t keep their lips — or hands — off each other. Caught last night: [Y/N] and Carter Baizen, locking lips outside his building. So much for hatred. XOXO, Gossip Girl.”

Your stomach dropped. The video was crystal clear — you, pressed against him, kissing him like he was the only person in the world.

“Good morning,” Carter murmured sleepily, his voice low and warm. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shoved the phone at him. “We’re on Gossip Girl.”

He blinked, then smirked. “Well, at least she caught my good side.”

“This isn’t funny, Carter!” you hissed, scrambling to find your clothes. “Everyone’s going to see this. My friends—”

“They already have,” he interrupted, still calm as ever. “So why keep pretending?”

You froze, staring at him. “Pretending what?”

He sat up, meeting your eyes with that rare seriousness that made your heart skip. “That you hate me.”