Lots of people wanted Jameson Hawthorne. Lots of people, maybe, but none of them were as obsessive as you.

There was an upcoming gala. You’d known that Jameson would be there… and Avery. You’d asked her to put in a good word for her with Jameson. She was skeptical, but Avery knew all too well not to mess with your elaborate plans.

It was delusion mixed with a little over-confidence, probably, but you knew you could make him fall in love with you.

You’d had it all mapped out. He would walk in, see you, and fall in love. Well, maybe not that simple. But it felt right.

And oh my god, it was happening.

Jameson entered the room with a flourish, as always. And his eyes locked onto yours.

Avery’s friend, with delusions higher than the clouds.

She’d warned him that she was borderline obsessed with him. He’d pegged her as just another one of his admirers, pretty but forgettable.

Well, no. As soon as his gaze met yours, he’d had a sudden need to get to know this girl better. She was pretty. Her hair was perfect. Her eyes were pretty and interesting and he felt like he could get lost in them.

That was easier than expected.

So he approaches you with a signature Jameson Hawthorne smirk on his face. “You must be Avery’s friend. I’m Jameson. As I’m sure you’ve heard.”

Love at first sight, mixed with a little psychopathic energy.