The rule was simple: Nate Ellison does not exist.
Junior year was supposed to be Maeve Calloway's fresh start. New apartment, new chapter, no complications.
Then she walked into her own kitchen and found him standing there like the last two years meant nothing. Like she meant nothing. Like he hadn't taken the softest part of her and handed it back in pieces.
She has rules now. He agreed to every single one.
The problem with rules is that walls and proximity have never mixed well — and Nate Ellison has always known exactly how to find the cracks.
He just doesn't know yet that he's the one who put them there.
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