When your nemesis also happens to be your fiancé, happily ever after becomes a lot more complicated in this wickedly funny, lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy debut. Naomi Westfield has the perfect fiancé: Nicholas Rose holds doors open for her, remembers her restaurant orders, and comes from the kind of upstanding society family any bride would love to be a part of. They never fight. They’re preparing for their lavish wedding that's three months away. And she is miserably and utterly sick of him. Naomi wants out, but there's a catch: whoever ends the engagement will have to foot the nonrefundable wedding bill. When Naomi discovers that Nicholas, too, has been feigning contentment, the two of them go head-to-head in a battle of pranks, sabotage, and all-out emotional warfare. But with the countdown looming to the wedding that may or may not come to pass, Naomi finds her resolve slipping. Because now that they have nothing to lose, they're finally being themselves--and having fun with the last person they expect: each other.

“Deliciously wicked [and] truly hysterical. Naomi especially is laugh-out-loud funny.”—NPR

“[A] hilarious debut romance…[that] rewards readers with laugh-out-loud moments and a satisfyingly sweet and redeeming ending.”—Booklist

"This book is the perfect dose of sweet, hilarious joy. It's masterful comedy plus tenderness, unique voice plus rich characters. Nicholas! Swoon! We are in love." —Christina Lauren, author of The Unhoneymooners

“I could not get enough of this fresh, insightful, and totally hilarious book! Sarah Hogle is a master of comedic dialogue and sexual tension; she had me rooting for Naomi and Nicholas from the very first page.” —Kristin Rockaway, author of *How to Hack a Heartbreak

“You Deserve Each Other* is an achingly sweet and laugh-out-loud funny story about how the road to happily ever after is rarely a straight, smooth ride. Packed with emotion, humor, and sexy tension, this book is a welcome punch straight in the feels.”—Lyssa Kay Adams, author of *The Bromance Book Club

“Earthy, authentic, and laugh-out-loud funny, I read this in one sitting. A refreshing and unputdownable debut!” *—Samantha Young, author of *Fight or Flight**

“Laugh-out-loud funny and heartfelt, You Deserve Each Other is one of my favorite books of the year.” *—Jennifer L. Armentrout, author of Wait For You***

"Laugh-out-loud funny and a love story with incredible heart. I absolutely loved You Deserve Each Other." *—Katie McGarry, author of *Pushing the Limits**

"A snarky heroine, wickedly funny banter, and a cast of quirky characters make this a laugh-out-loud read." *—Maisey Yates, author of Secrets from a Happy Marriage***

• Autorentext

  Sarah Hogle

  Klappentext

  When your nemesis also happens to be your fiancé, happily ever after becomes a lot more complicated in this wickedly funny, lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers romantic comedy debut.

  Naomi Westfield has the perfect fiancé: Nicholas Rose holds doors open for her, remembers her restaurant orders, and comes from the kind of upstanding society family any bride would love to be a part of. They never fight. They're preparing for their lavish wedding that's three months away. And she is miserably and utterly sick of him.

  Naomi wants out, but there's a catch: whoever ends the engagement will have to foot the nonrefundable wedding bill. When Naomi discovers that Nicholas, too, has been feigning contentment, the two of them go head-to-head in a battle of pranks, sabotage, and all-out emotional warfare.

  But with the countdown looming to the wedding that may or may not come to pass, Naomi finds her resolve slipping. Because now that they have nothing to lose, they're finally being themselves-and having fun with the last person they expect: each other.

  Leseprobe

Chapter One

 

One year and nine months later

 

What an ugly, crappy day. Rain pelts off the windshield of my coworker's likewise crappy car, which smells like cold McDonald's French fries and pine trees. Leon taps his fingertips on the steering wheel, leaning forward a bit to see out. His windshield wipers are stroking back and forth with all they've got, but the rain is pouring down like someone slit the sky down the middle and an ocean started roaring out.

 

"Thanks again for the ride."

 

"Sure, anytime."

 

I roll my lips inward and inhale a bloom of pine. Whatever he misted in here before I got in is going to follow me around for the rest of the day. I don't know too much about Leon, so it's fully possible there's a corpse in the trunk and the pine spray is to cover it up.

 

"Raining pretty hard," I say. Brandy couldn't take me home because her sister picked her up early. Zach took his motorcycle today, which I bet he's regretting. Melissa offered to give me a lift, clearly hoping I'd decline, which is why I did. I kind of hate myself for still wanting her to like me. She's been unreasonably prickly toward me ever since I set her up with my fiancé's friend, who turned out to be a serial cheater. She thinks Nicholas and I knew he was the cheating type from the get-go and shredded her trust in men on purpose.

 

"Yeah, it's supposed to rain all week."

 

"That's too bad for the trick-or-treaters."

 

Leon turns to face me for a moment, before his eyes slide back to the road. Or what he can see of it—frankly, I don't know how he's still inching along because I can't see a thing. We could be mowing through a field for all I know. It's the tail end of October and forty degrees. Last week I was wearing shorts. The week before that, it was so cold that it almost snowed. Autumn in Wisconsin is a joy.

 

"You passing out candy?" Leon asks.

 

The answer should be a given. I love candy and I love kids, especially obnoxious little boys because I think they're funny. I also love the fall. All month I've been using the shimmery copper pan in my eye shadow palette, trying to give my eyelids the same glow of sunset gently slanting over a pumpkin patch.

 

My bedroom floor is a mess of soft pullover sweaters that make me feel like a sea captain, knee-high boots, and infinity scarves. Every meal contains some hint of pumpkin spice. If I'm not ingesting pumpkin, I'm breathing it in like an addict, lining every available surface of my home with candles that smell like food. Apple pie, pumpkin pie, pumpkin spice, apple pumpkin.

 

My aesthetic is aggressively, unapologetically basic. Some of it stems from a lady at a MAC counter telling me I'm an autumn, because of my amber eyes and long, stick-straight hair the color of pecans, but I know in my leaf-ogling, beanie-loving, pumpkin-gorging soul that I'd be a basic bitch even if I had neutral undertones. It's in my DNA.

 

And yet I don't feel like passing out candy on Halloween. I haven't even decorated, which used to be one of my favorite things to do at the start of a season. I might end up spending the evening alone in sweats, watching bad TV while Nicholas is off playing Gears of War at a friend's house, or we might turn in before nine p.m. after passing out cheap, travel-size toothbrushes and floss to disappointed children.

 

"Maybe," I say at last, because I no longer care what I do. I could be riding a roller coaster or writing a grocery list and my enthusiasm level would look the same. The thought depresses me, but what depresses me more is that I'm not going to do anything about it.

 

"I would if I lived on a busier street," he replies. "I don't get any trick-or-treaters out where I live."

 

There's no such thing as a busy street in Morris. We're so …