I Promise You Read Online Ilsa Madden-Mills

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Romance, Sports Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)

Read Online Books/Novels:

I Promise You

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Ilsa Madden-Mills

Book Information:

New adult football romance! Complete standalone!
WSJ bestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills returns with an all-new swoony romance between the football hottie and the mystery girl he kissed years before.
Dillon McQueen: Babe. I promise. You want me.
Serena Jensen: Um, who are you?
There’s a legend at Waylon University: the first girl you kiss freshman year at the bonfire party is the one you’ll never forget. She’ll crawl under your skin and never leave. She’ll spark a passion so fierce you’ll burn the world down to possess her. You might even put a ring on it.
As in all things with fate, timing is everything. That kiss can go horribly wrong. She might run in the opposite direction. And boy, did Serena run.
Dillon is Waylon’s hotshot quarterback with something to prove. All he wants is to graduate and make it to the NFL. What he doesn’t need is to finally meet the mystery girl he kissed at the bonfire freshman year. Isn’t it enough that she’s haunted his dreams for more than a thousand nights?
Fate laughs in his face when he runs into the quirky girl at the Piggly Wiggly. Surrounded by his entourage, he’s got all the Oreos in his cart; she gets revenge by buying every six-pack of his favorite beer.
Obviously, that legend is a curse. She’s not his type. She hates him. Worst of all, how can she not remember him when she left a Serena-shaped hole in his heart for the past three years?
So why can’t he stop trying to win her?
Will this quarterback score the girl or make the biggest fumble of his life?
Books by Author:

Ilsa Madden-Mills


There’s a universal truth at Waylon University: the first girl you kiss freshman year at the annual bonfire party is the one you’ll never forget. She’ll crawl under your skin and make her way into your heart. She’ll spark a passion so fierce you’ll burn the world down to possess her.

You might even put a ring on it.


As in all things with fate, the caveat is timing. That kiss can go horribly wrong. She might not want you. She might run in the opposite direction.

And because you kissed, you are screwed.


The ridiculous legend—the warning—swirls around in my head as I saunter around the crackling fire, my eyes surveying the party in the meadow. The September night is crisp with autumn, the scent of leaves and smoke from the fire wafting in the air. The crowd of students is thick and mostly drunk, some headed to the barn for games, others dancing as a band plays on a stage. My gaze snags on a couple as they sit under a giant oak tree and make out. Here’s some truth: I’m kissing no one tonight. I’m not the superstitious sort, but I’ll admit to a good sense of self-preservation.

Sorority girls follow me as I shoulder my way through the crush of people. I shake off an insistent blonde in a Theta jersey who’s been tailing me since I got here.

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” I tell her with a lazy smile when she latches onto my arm again. She’s hot, all long legs and big tits. “Find me tomorrow.” After this legend crap is null and void.

“Sure, baby. Call me. I stuck my digits in your back pocket.”

Of course she did.

She gives me a blinding smile, strokes my arm, and flounces off.

Some of the guys from the team call my name, motioning me over as they stand next to a keg. I head that way and am almost there when—


I stop and my body tenses when I see her.

This girl.

I do a double take.

What the…

An unseen hand strokes down my spine.

She dances alone in the midst of a crowd. Flickering light from the nearby fire glitters over her body, half of her in a dusky shadow, the other draped in glowing illumination. Tanned, slender legs bend as she twirls in a short red mini skirt and black military boots. Swinging her hips, she holds her long hair up as she sways. There’s a dandelion tattoo on her nape.

A silver piercing in her belly button glints under the lights. Closing her eyes, she undulates her body in a hypnotic body roll, her arms stretched toward the sky as she moves to the bass of the guitar.

Her face is heart-shaped with high cheekbones, her lips bee-stung full. Dark eyebrows frame eyes with a slight tilt at the corners. Her breasts are small but pert as they push against a white crop top with suspenders that snap to her skirt. “Not my type,” I murmur to myself, taking in her petite frame.

“Get over here, rookie!” comes from one of the guys, and I wave them off, still watching the babe. From a few feet away, a dude with a red Solo cup in his hand also checks her out. His buddies slap him on the back, urging him on. He takes a deep swig of his drink, hands it off to a friend, and pushes his way through the throng toward her. Dancing behind her, he grabs her hips and leans into her. She shoves him away, and I smile. That’s right, sweetheart. Be you. Dance alone.

Or not, I muse.

Screw that legend. It can’t be real, and my type or not, I’d like a taste of her.

I maneuver her way, moving through the crowd—

“Dillon! Let’s go, man. The guys are asking for you,” comes from Blaze as he grabs my shoulder and drags me to the group of football players. He hands me a beer and grins broadly. He’s a sophomore, and we just met at summer camp. I have a good feeling about him; in fact, the whole team is like a dream come true. I know I’m not the best player—yet—but it’s the happiest I’ve been since my brother died.

“We’re gonna get a group together to enter the rope pull contest. Those Kappa guys are built like tractors, but we can take ’em. You in?” He pops an eyebrow at me.

“Mhmm,” I reply, my gaze back to the girl as yet another guy approaches her. She’s like a damn magnet. She gives him a withering glare then prances off and settles closer to the stage. Off limits, her body language declares.

Vicious girl.

She knows what she wants, and it isn’t those guys.

“I thought this kid was focused. He looks dazed,” Ryker murmurs. He snaps his fingers in my face. “Freshman, get your eyes off the girl.”

“Done,” I say, looking at him. Ryker’s our starting quarterback, and I have a ton of respect for him.