We’ve seen our fair share of band drama from Fleetwood Mac to One Direction and now Mazey Eddings is putting it all together for a brand new and unforgettable sapphic romance that is the perfect vibes for the upcoming concert season. The author from some of our favorite romances like Late Bloomer and Well, Actually is taking us on the road as one band tries to navigate the wild world of music, love, and fame.
Cosmopolitan has an exclusive look at Mazey Eddings’s You Won’t Forget Me, which is set to be released on June 9, 2026. The book follows Cubby Clark, who is left heartbroken when her BF and her band’s leader Connor leaves the band. But the tabloids think she’s moved on with another band member, only it’s not the one that she might be growing some feelings for. Can the new trio survive this new level of fame? Or will things get super complicated as they try to finish off their summer tour? Here’s some more info from our friends at St. Martin’s Griffin:
From USA Today bestselling author Mazey Eddings comes a dazzling sapphic romance about fame, friendship, and falling for the one person you were never meant to.
Lost. Reckless. In love.
Cubby Clark is the heart of her band—loyal, earnest, and determined to make music that matters. But just as they’re about to break out, Connor, her on-again, off-again boyfriend walks away . . . and rockets to solo fame with a hit song tearing her down.
Left with a fractured band, a publicly adored and toxic ex, and relentless writer’s block, Cubby is barely holding it together.
The only thing keeping her steady are her friends and bandmates Darcy and Harry. Especially Darcy—bright, magnetic, and more guarded than she lets on. But, when a seemingly romantic photo of Cubby and Harry goes viral the same night Cubby and Darcy hook-up, the inseparable pair begin to fracture.
Thrust into a whirlwind tour, Cubby and Darcy are forced into close quarters. Now Cubby has one summer to decide what she’s willing to risk. Walking away would be easier. But staying might mean everything.
Tour is about to start, but you can get a sneak peek at the setlist with an exclusive excerpt below that gives us a glimpse at some of the chemistry these bandmates have between each other. Just make sure to pre-order You Won’t Forget Me so you can find out what happens next!
Five years ago
“I think Connor’s going to kiss me tonight,” I say, staring into my bedroom mirror, my face an alarming shade of gray-green. My eyes flick to the corner of the glass, locking with the reflection of my best friend, Darcy. She blinks at me from where she’s sprawled on the bed.
“Enjoy,” she drawls, scrunching up her nose before turning back to her phone.
I whip around. “Like, he’s going to kiss me kiss me.”
“Congratulations,” she says through a yawn. “Would you like a gold star?”
“Darcy, I’m serious.” I stand, pacing the room to the beat of my nervous energy.
My lovely, giving, exceptionally compassionate friend manages to turn off her phone with a sigh and sit up, watching my move- ments with a bored expression. “I’m serious too. I’m so sorry I don’t have a cake prepared. I’ll run to the shops while you’re on your date. congrats on smooshing your face against someone else’s for the first time! or something like that written in icing. Invite your brother and mums to join the celebration.”
“I hate you.” I throw a pillow at her head, then collapse on the mattress next to her.
“Sure you do, Cubby love.”
I scowl as she slides down to level her face with mine, a playful smile tugging at her wide mouth.
“Let me make sure I’m following,” she says, voice velvety but wrinkled with teasing. “The boy you’ve been friends with for five years, in a band with for three, had a crush on for one, and been obsessively texting for six months is going to kiss you tonight and you’ve worked yourself up so much you have the complexion of a zombie because . . . ?”
“Because I’m eighteen and I’ve never done it before and you know that and I probably should have loads of kissing experience by now, and what if I screw it up or what if I’m awful at it or what if—”
“Your breath smells terrible or you move in too fast and break his nose?”
“You are truly the worst. Why do I talk to you?”
“Because you love meeee,” she says in singsong, tapping my nose.
I slap her hand away then snatch it back up, holding it against my chest, my steady anchor as insecurities jangle through me.
Darcy stares at me, features dropping from light and teasing to something careful. “So this whole thing’s real, then, yeah?”
I frown. “You’ve known I’ve fancied him for a while.” Connor moved from Ireland to our small corner of Surrey during primary school. It wasn’t until a few years later, when Darcy and I were in choir with him and our other friend Harry, that we bonded. It didn’t take long for our love of music to cinch a lasso around us, our world shrinking to the four of us but expanding with our boundless dream to make music.
“Yeah, no. I mean, I knew, like, conceptually you liked him. But it seems like you really like him.”
I shrug. “I guess so?”
Darcy shakes her head, something sharp flashing behind her eyes, gone before I can read it.
“What?”
She schools her features, fixing me with a bland look. “I’m fairly certain there’s a textbook worth of examples of what a terrible idea it is to date a bandmate, but follow your heart or your knickers or whatever.”
I shove her, and she laughs. “Well, if I’m as horrible a kisser as I’m assuming I’ll be, there won’t be any dating, just awkward tension in a fissured friend group.”
“Which everyone knows is great for a band’s sound.”
“I’m glad our music outranks my personal romantic happiness on your list of priorities.”
“You could practice,” Darcy says suddenly, sitting up and crossing her legs, that serious look back.
My mouth twists. “On what? A pillow? Is all of this not embarrassing enough?”
“No, you weirdo. On a person. On . . . me.”
My heart stutters for a beat, then kicks into overdrive, a flood of warmth diffusing through me to the tips of my toes and fingers at the image that flashes in my mind. I shake my head, clearly misunderstanding her. “What do you mean on you?”
Darcy tucks her blond hair behind her ears, the ends recently dyed blue in her latest act of rebellion. “Hear me out. I’ve kissed loads of guys, right? I know what makes a good kiss and a bad one. I can give you . . . pointers.”
I stare at her, my mouth falling open as all words leave me. Her eyes flick to my lips and I lick them without thinking, then bite down hard on the lower. “Wouldn’t that be, um . . . weird? For us to, er, do?”
Darcy clears her throat, giving a nonchalant wave of her hand. “’Course not. It’s you and me. Nothing’s weird with us.”
She’s right. Darcy’s been my best friend since we were both in nappies, having grown up next door to each other. I have a twin brother who I’m very close with, but I’ve always felt equally close to Darcy, sometimes even more intensely. She’s like family, but it’s more than that. She’s someone I choose to spend time with, share everything with, tell my deep dark secrets to, listen to hers in return. It makes sense we’d share this too.
“Okay,” I say slowly, looking at her glinting blue eyes, my stomach clenching and heartbeat vibrating in my palms. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Darcy’s smile is dazzling as she shifts onto her knees, leaning to- ward me. “’Course I don’t mind. What are friends for?”
I swallow, anticipation rising from my belly to rest as a shim- mering ball in my chest, the glow radiating down my arms. I nod, scrambling up so I’m mirroring her position.
We stay like that for a moment, looking at each other, something delicate but electrifying weaving in the space between our bodies. My heart is beating so hard I wonder if she can see it through my shirt, can feel the reverberations against her own chest like ripples in a pond.
“To kiss, you generally need to be closer,” Darcy whispers, a tiny laugh in her voice. I can tell it isn’t at me but in response to the strange volts of giddiness between us.
“Right. Yeah. ’Course.” I shuffle nearer, a few centimeters separating us now. “This better?”
Darcy’s grin is crooked, a dimple popping out on one side. She puckers her lips like a fish and makes a popping sound, then frowns. “Was that a good kiss for you?”
I roll my eyes, and she snorts.
“Like this,” she says, one hand reaching out to land on my hip. With a light tug, she brings our bodies together—thigh to thigh, chest to chest. Now I know she can feel my heart pounding.
I look between us, her hand still on my hip, both of mine some- how on hers, holding tight. I don’t remember putting them there.
Fundamentally, this is no different than a hug. No different than how we cuddle close when she sleeps over on the weekends. I can’t figure out why it feels so charged, every nerve ending a trip wire ready to detonate. But then again, things with Darcy always feel gleaming and hyper-focused, like she absorbs all the light in a room, then reflects it back tenfold.
“Okay?” she asks gently. I look up, and all teasing is gone from her face. I nod, my throat dry and tangled in a knot so tight I can’t get any words out. My stomach swoops like I’m cresting the highest hill of a roller coaster, limbs tingling with adrenaline and excitement and a tinge of fear that maybe I’ve made a mistake that there’s no turning back from.
With all the care in the world, Darcy lifts her free hand so her palm cups the side of my neck, thumb brushing the angle of my jaw. I watch her watch where she touches me, brows knitting for a moment like something about it confuses her.
“Are you okay?” I echo.
She blinks, coming back to herself, a bit of that teasing resurfacing in slow degrees. “’Course,” she says, tapping her forehead against mine. “I’m just taking my role as a teacher very seriously. I can’t be responsible for the neighborhood youths being lousy snogs.”
Some of the tension eases in my chest as we land back on familiar, sarcastic ground. “Darcy Burton: bassist and kissing instructor. Your CV is glowing.”
“Mum and Dad will be so proud,” she says with a tinkling laugh. I feel that laugh—the way the warm air of her exhale dances across my skin, vibrates into my chest, every sensitive cell in my body absorbing the sound waves like they can hold on to her forever.
Something about that laugh unlocks me.
Before I can process the movement, I press my lips to Darcy’s, searching and hungry, wanting to taste her joy before it evaporates.
She tenses, and I do too, pulling back just as suddenly. “I’m sorry,” I bumble out, eyes wide. “So sorry. I think you were supposed to do that part. I—” She cuts me off, molding her mouth back to mine with urgency.
My mind clears like the extinguishing of a candle flame while the rest of my body catches fire. Darcy is so soft, so warm, her hands sliding up to tangle in my hair in a gentle, desperate grip, urging my head to tilt slightly to the side. I follow her guidance and she deepens the kiss. An involuntary noise vibrates at the base of my throat, and she hums back, the sound both needy and satisfied.
We break apart on a sharp intake of breath. Oh my god, one of us whispers.
From YOU WON’T FORGET ME by Mazey Eddings. Copyright © 2026 by the author and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Griffin.
You Won’t Forget Me, by Mazey Eddings will be released on June 9, 2026 from St. Martin’s Griffin. To preorder the book, click on the retailer of your choice:
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