Mason Kade is not known to be nice. He is ruthless, manipulative, and unforgiving. Most will say that he is a jerk, and he is to those that cross him or cross his loved ones. However, he does not want to be who he is. He does not enjoy hurting others, but there is no limit to the lengths he will go to protect himself and his brother. This is the story of how he came to be, and this is why so many love Mason Kade.

I shouldn't have agreed to this. What was I thinking? Appearing on a local news show? Just because something happened to me? But here I am. And then I walked past his room. He's a giant—no softness, all muscle. And a rich beard that made me want to rub myself all over it. He made me see stars, literally, because the second time I saw him, I tripped. Or I would've, but he caught me, and the cameras were rolling. Soon, that clip will be trending because he wasn't just another guest on the show. He's Brett Broudou, the Kings' newest football star.

Hockey with benefits. That was what Mara proposed, and I was down. She said no feelings, and she meant it. Just benefits. No strings attached. Nothing else. Not even friendship. College was her escape, including us. I didn't have time for a girlfriend. I had classes, the team, my family, and the game. It was all working too.... Until somewhere down the line, things got messy. Until somehow we were dealing with threats, secrets, rivals, and so much more. Until I began to want her in ways that weren't part of the deal. Our agreement didn't just get checked into the wall, it got obliterated.

He walked into school on his first day and owned it. I guess that's what happens when you're a prick, rich, and you're best friends with the ruling school's king. Also didn't hurt that he's drop-dead gorgeous. That's all fine. I mean, I have nothing to do with them. I'm a loner, invisible, and that's how I wanted it to be. I was even proud of it, until I wasn't. His name is Blaise Devroe. My name is Aspen Monson. He only knew how to get, command, and demand attention. I knew how to do everything but that. And this is our story. 

Nate Monson was gorgeous, obnoxiously wealthy, and a player. He was also the person who could destroy my world with a single decision. I walked into that bar looking for him. He saw me. I saw him. The chemistry sizzled between us, but no. I hated Nate Monson. I hated him with everything in me, even though my body did not. It didn't matter. Nothing I wanted mattered. He thought I wanted to get laid. What I wanted was for him to disappear. But first, I had to tell him that he had a daughter.

New year. New place. New me. Right? Wrong. And all because of Shay Coleman. Football captain and quarterback, he was the big guy on campus. The cocky guy in my political science class with a smirk. I hated him on sight...and he was about to break all my rules.

I asked for his criteria for bed buddies - that's the PG version. He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start. Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder. Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation. He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.   

Cutler Ryder was everything I wasn’t. He was the hockey star. I was an outcast. He was best friends with my stepbrother, that same stepbrother who hated me. His two parents loved him. My mom was a junkie. My dad barely knew me. Years passed. I got my life together. Cut went onto NHL stardom. Then there was a text. 

To survive where I live, you have two options. You can be a Normal - a cheerleader, jock, member of the debate team, or on the yearbook committee. You pretend everything is normal. Or you can be crew. You insult us? We hurt you. You hurt us? We really hurt you. And if you f--k with us, we will end you. My name is Bren. I'm the only female in the Wolf Crew - the best, fiercest, and most dangerous crew there is - and we have a rule: There's no falling in love. Well...too late.

I watched him in high school; I knew his reputation. I knew he was wealthy, privileged, and mean. He ran the show back then, a partier and a player. Then he came back from college, back to the town I never left. He’s different now. He comes into the bar, and I know his routine. I know which stool he’ll pick. I know his favorite drink. I know which sports team he’ll want on the television screen. And I watch as he gets hit on. Sometimes he leaves the bar with a woman. Sometimes he doesn’t. But I’m always there, tending to his drinks. He gives me a smile and a polite nod back.