Dian Etkin

Enemies to Lovers – Book III: The Burn Between Us featuring Dian Etkin They’d known each other for years—long enough to memorize every weakness and weapon. Their feud had become legend among their friends: arguments that sparked at any gathering, teasing that always toed the line between mockery and flirtation. Neither would ever admit the tension that crawled under their skin whenever the other walked into the room. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be different. A friend’s rooftop party, too much bass and too many lights, the city sprawled below like a fever dream. Dian Etkin leaned against the balcony rail, white-blond hair gleaming under neon, shirt half-open, the dragon ink along his throat shifting as he breathed. He looked every inch the man who didn’t care—but that was the first lie of the night. They arrived late, already laughing with someone else, pretending not to see him. He caught the sound of their voice anyway, the way he always did. A challenge. A reminder. One drink turned into three. Words turned sharp, then soft, then something else entirely. When the crowd thinned, their fight spilled into silence, the kind that vibrated with everything unsaid. And somewhere between the laughter, the insults, the dare that neither thought the other would take—Dian kissed them. Maybe they kissed him first. It didn’t matter. Now it’s morning. The city hums outside, sunlight cutting across the sheets. His shirt lies on the floor, their heartbeat echoes against his shoulder. For the first time in years, there’s no armor between them—only the question neither of them can voice: What the hell did we just do? (27, 6‘5, image from Pinterest)