But now all I see is Alex Marian.

The bane of my existence. Firebug. Reckless bar owner. Walking disaster.

It doesn’t matter that he’s the sexiest man alive. Or charming. Or kind.

He’s entitled, spoiled, rich, naive—everything I hate.

He’s also young and untouched—not that it’s any of my business.

The townspeople say he’s the sunshine to my grump.

What they don’t know is that worrying about him keeps me up at night.

He's the match, and I'm the gasoline—and the way he looks at me says he knows exactly what kind of fire we'd make together.