In Tessa Bailey's “Dream Girl Drama”, a Meet-Cute Quickly Becomes Forbidden Love — Read an Excerpt! (Exclusive)

The bestselling romance author's latest novel will arrive just in time for Valentine's Day 2025

<p>Nisha Ver Halen; Avon</p> Tessa Bailey

Nisha Ver Halen; Avon

Tessa Bailey's 'Dream Girl Drama'

Tessa Bailey’s upcoming rom-com Dream Girl Drama is for the yearners and lovers of forbidden romance — and PEOPLE has an exclusive sneak peek!

The latest romance book from the New York Times bestselling author — who is known for her steamy series like Line of Duty and Hot & Hammered — is due to hit shelves just in time for Valentine’s Day on Feb. 4, 2025.

Dream Girl Drama follows a chance encounter between an athlete and a sheltered harp prodigy that blows up when, shortly after meeting, the would-be lovers learn that their parents are engaged.

“When professional hockey player Sig Gauthier’s car breaks down and his phone dies, he treks into a posh private country club to call a tow truck, where he encounters the alluring Chloe Clifford, the manic pixie dream girl who captivates him immediately with her sense of adventure and penchant for stealing champagne,” an official synopsis reads.

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The enamored pair can’t wait to see each other again, but when Sig finally arrives to meet his dad’s new girlfriend over dinner, Chloe is confusingly also there. Turns out the girlfriend is Chloe’s mother. Oh, and they’re engaged,” the synopsis reads. “Sig’s dream girl is his future stepsister.”

With this news, the Chloe and Sig become wary of being romantically involved, but continue to see each other as the hockey pro teaches his “dream girl” to cope with her controlling mom.

Hooked yet? Read an exclusive excerpt of Dream Girl Dramabelow:

<p>Avon</p> 'Dream Girl Drama' by Tessa Bailey

Avon

'Dream Girl Drama' by Tessa Bailey

Sig pulled up to the lavish estate and raked a hand down his jaw, hoping to drag the dopey smile off his face. No chance of that, though. Hell, smiling was the last thing he’d expected to be doing before a rare meeting with his father, but here he was.

Chloe Clifford. Son of a b---.

Meeting the girl of his dreams wasn’t on his bingo card when he woke up this morning. He didn’t have some mental archetype of how his dream girl would look. How she would act. Make him feel. None of that. Up until the lobby of that country club, he’d been fine being single. Getting a little action on an as-needed basis, but never feeling pressed to commit.

But Chloe?

Yeah, he already knew he’d commit to that. F---ing hard. She already wanted to come to Boston, didn’t she? He’d just do the long-distance thing until she decided it was right for her. And he’d make it right. He’d bring her down to Boston and show her everything. Every corner. She didn’t think she was built to thrive there? He’d help her believe the opposite.

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Sig unbuckled his seat belt, because the stiff nylon was adding pressure to a chest that already felt like a powder keg. He rubbed at the twinge at the center, but it wouldn’t go away. Something happened tonight. Something important. God, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

Might as well admit it, too. He couldn’t wait to f--- her.

He shook his head on a pained laugh as his c--- started to fill and extend, testing the denim fly of his jeans. Not a good time for a hard-on, but he’d been fighting one since she’d opened her mouth for his tongue and rubbed her belly against him. She liked making trouble outside of bed. What kind would they make inside of one? The godd--- filthy kind, if Sig had his way. He didn’t know any other way to f--- and something told him she wouldn’t mind being thrown into positions those country club boys could only dream about.

Get this dinner over with.

Track down the girl. No. Lock down the girl.

Take her back to Boston tomorrow, if she was willing. If not, he’d buy a new truck so he could make the three-hour trip as often as necessary. It wouldn’t be easy during the season, but nothing worthwhile was easy, was it?

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When Sig was 10, his mother couldn’t afford to buy him hockey gear. With the tryout approaching in just a few weeks, he’d gotten on his bike and tracked down every secondhand, beat-up pad, helmet and jersey in the county. He’d actually tried out for the under 11s team in mismatched skates. And when the other kids had made fun of him in front of his mortified mother, he’d informed them they were all pampered pussies who needed their parents to take them shopping. No one had bothered him after that — and Sig had kept that attitude all his life. One he’d developed for his mother’s benefit, but over time, had become his method of thought. Of dealing with his lack of funds or his lowball contract.

Occasionally, he looked at one of his higher-paid opponents and thought it would be nice to make eight figures. To buy a vacation house in Hawaii. Drive a Porsche SUV. But his mind would come back with but you don’t need it.

Parting with his faithful ride would suck, but breaking down again between Boston and Darien would suck more. Even the AAA mechanic he’d eventually called out to the country club parking lot had pondered out loud if the old bucket of bolts was worth saving. At least the guy hadn’t taken long to arrive — only 20 minutes — so while he was late for dinner, he wasn’t that late. Which was good. Because the sooner this dinner was over, the sooner he could find Chloe and finish what they’d started.

God, he was going to make her f---ing scream.

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He stepped into the foyer, which was more like a ballroom with its domed glass ceiling and sweeping staircase in the center of the room. Following in the maid’s footsteps, he walked by a table boasting a giant vase, bursting with white flowers. Pedestals lined the room holding various sculptures, each tastefully lit from above by frosted globes. On the far end of the room, the entire wall was made of glass, the view something out of a movie. Jagged rocks forming the coastline, wind-whipped grass, the body of water beyond, gently illuminated by a lighthouse.

Inadequacy prodded at him, more insistently than he’d felt it in a while. Even if the Bearcats renewed his contract for 10 times the amount of his current salary, he’d never be able to afford a house like this. This was generational wealth. Money he couldn’t comprehend.

You don’t need it.

There was a sound coming from somewhere in the house and it stopped Sig in his tracks. Music. Gentle music. It wasn’t an overly familiar sound or instrument, but something about it made his stomach clench, though he wasn’t sure the curious shift in his ribs came from enjoyment — because the music was the most beautiful he’d ever heard — or something else. And he didn’t have a lot of time to think about it, because before he could reach the parlor, his father and a woman in her fifties stepped out of the room to greet him.

Harvey had changed since the last time Sig saw him, a lot more silver in the temples of his jet-black hair, his gaze sharper than the lapels of his suit jacket. The blond woman he escorted fit into her surroundings in a cream-colored dress that wrapped and folded in places that made no sense to Sig, sapphires winking at him from her earlobes.

“Son,” Harvey said warmly, coming forward to wrap him in an embrace.

A little embarrassed by the hope that rippled inside him, his instinctive search for that elusive bond, Sig returned the hug briefly and clapped the older man on the back. “Harvey. Good to see you. Sorry I’m late. Had some car trouble.”

“Oh dear,” the woman said, holding a glass tumbler with both hands. “Is everything okay now?”

“Yeah, fine. I called AAA and got the old girl up and running again. Thanks.”

Based on the wrinkle of her brow, car trouble and AAA were foreign concepts to this woman.

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“Well, we’re all here now. Isn’t that nice?” Harvey stepped back and gestured proudly. “Son, please allow me to introduce you to Sofia, the goddess of my heart.”

Sig gave his father a dry look. “Very nice to meet you, Sofia.” “Likewise. I’ve heard such incredible things about Harvey’s son, the professional hockey player. Let’s get you a drink, so you can tell us everything there is to know.”There was something familiar about Sofia’s graceful mannerisms as she swept aside and gestured for Sig to precede them into the parlor, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what. Or maybe he didn’t want to put the clues together yet. Ignoring the bolt tightening in his gut, he followed Sofia’s wordless directive, entering another expensively decorated room, that light and sort of ethereal music growing louder. Louder. “We thought it would be nice if Chloe played for us while we waited for dinner to start.”

Sig’s throat burned like he’d swallowed acid, the world moving in muddled motion, as if he’d jumped out of the window and into the freezing cold Sound, his body encapsulated in pressure from all sides. His hands were notorious for being steady, but they shook now. Shook so noticeably that he shoved them into his pockets to hide them instinctively.

That was his first and most regrettable mistake.

He’d play it over and over again in the months to come. Hiding.

He never should have hidden a d--- thing.

Especially when Chloe’s fingers froze on the strings of her harp and he caught the horrified shock in her gaze as she saw his reflection approach in the picture window. In that moment, he should have announced to the room that he’d met Chloe earlier that evening and there was something happening between them. Something real. But he let the seconds tick by. Tick, tick, tick, while Chloe waited for him to react. Out loud.

He couldn’t find his voice, though.

Couldn’t wrap his head around their bad fortune quickly enough.

Their parents were dating. His father. Her mother.

Chloe turned slowly in her stool, blinking at him. Opening her mouth, closing it.

God, she was spectacular. She’d showered, twisted her blond hair up into some kind of style at the back of her head, little pearls peeking out everywhere. She had on a short, cream-colored silk dress and no shoes. And on top of every amazing thing about her — her wit, her warmth, her beauty — she had the ability to produce that music?

Our parents are dating.

“Honey, I can’t wait another second. Let’s make this a celebration dinner, shall we?” Harvey crowed behind him, his father coming up beside Sig to press a crystal rocks glass halfway filled with golden liquid into his hand. Then Harvey wrapped an arm around Sofia’s waist, both of them smiling from ear to ear. “Chloe. Sig. We brought you both here tonight to announce that we’re getting married.” He laughed tearfully while looking into Sofia’s face. “By the spring, we’ll be husband and wife.”

Sofia raised her glass in a salute. “And you’ll each gain a sibling!”

The resulting roar in Sig’s head rivaled the crashing waves below.

From DREAM GIRL DRAMA by Tessa Bailey. Copyright © 2025 by Tessa Bailey. Reprinted by permission of Avon Books, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

Dream Girl Drama will hit shelves on Feb. 4, 2025, is available for preorder now, wherever books are sold.

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