Zack Morgan is the king of the ice and the bedroom, but nothing prepares him for the mystery girl who shows up everywhere he does - frat parties, his favorite bar, and finally his front door with an offer he can't refuse. The only rule in her boyfriend bargain: no falling in love. But after one (um, two) smoking-hot hookups, he's done with pretending and vows to make their fake relationship real. Too bad she can't trust a player with a reputation for breaking hearts.

There are a few things that life doesn’t prepare you for. Like what to do when a super-hot guy catches you sneaking around in his basement, or what to do when a mysterious package shows up with tickets to a hockey game (because, apparently, he’s a professional athlete). Nor how to handle it when you get to the game and realize he’s freaking famous, since half of the 20,000 people in the stands are wearing his jersey.

Football god. Ladies man. Campus celebrity. Guys want to be me and girls want to bed me. Commitment? What's that? Then I saw her - tiny, gorgeous, and oh so...mine.  

Beckett Langfield is grumpy, rich and hates kids. I’m an overworked, overstressed, and overweight single mom. The only reason we’re getting married is because he needs to fix a PR disaster and I am available. As in sitting next to him, in a bar, when he has this brilliant idea. Considering I just got divorced, I’m not looking to do that again. But Beckett makes me an offer that I literally can’t refuse, so I don’t.

Bounty hunting can be dangerous, but Jace Reed is used to danger and always follows the rules. Including the most important one—never get emotionally involved. But everything goes haywire when the Brooklyn “it girl” interrupts his most important assignment. Beautiful Lucy Moor may or may not hold the only clue to the target that Jace has been tracking for months. So becoming her roommate to get the intel from her should be easy… right?

Good looks and wads of cash usually get me whatever I desire, unless I desire a box of my favorite cereal at the grocery store right before it closes. As if tonight's loss wasn't bad enough, I'm now watching said box of cereal, my literal good luck charm, disappear in some woman's cart. The brazen woman denies my cash offer along with my proposal for a more intimate payment. How much loss can a man take in one day? At this point, who cares how rude I am to her? She's public enemy number one, and chances of seeing her again are slim to none.

You know that post-vacation glow? Where you’re all sun-kissed and optimistic and determined to make changes in your life? Well, mine lasted for about five minutes. Until I walked into the office and saw Myles Salinger sitting in my boss’s chair. One look at his scowling face was enough to make me want to fly straight back to Europe. And no, he’s not getting any of the donuts I brought in for the team. He doesn’t deserve them. You see, on paper, he’s my contemporary. In reality, he’s been my workplace nemesis for the last two years.

Easton Hayes has been my knight in shining hockey skates since he saved my life. This devastatingly handsome grump may be everyone's favorite goalie, but to me, he's my strength when demons haunt my dreams. And okay—so maybe he's also the only man I've ever loved. But he doesn't need to know that. We're friends. It works for us.

Seven hours. That's how long I knew her in college. But that hasn't stopped me from thinking about her every day since. That's why I recognized her the second she walked into my bar. She glances over, but it's obvious she doesn't recognize me. And why would she? I think she only looked at my face once that night. Most of the time, she had her head buried in my chest, wailing about her idiot boyfriend. You'd think those few short hours would fade from my memory by the time I woke up the next morning, but no such luck.

He won’t tell me his last name, and maybe that should throw up a thousand red flags, but when I’m all alone in a new city and struggling to make ends meet, his texts are the lifeline I’ve been desperate for. I never would have answered that text if I’d known that Lincoln Daniels—superstar hockey player extraordinaire—was the one sending it. He’s trying to sweep me off my feet now. He says he’s obsessed. He wants me to wear his number…permanently. But is he still the wrong number, or can this hockey god prove he’s Mr. Right?

Aeris Relera has always drawn the short end of the stick in life—a self-absorbed ex, neglectful parents, and a past that continues to haunt her. When she's down on her luck one night, a mysterious knight in shining armor—or, more realistically, a knight in hockey shoulder pads—saves her from a few too many tequila shots.

Where I come from, there's no forgiveness for a whistleblower, even if I saved countless lives. Unemployed with a wrecked reputation, my only option is a pity job as a leadership consultant for a secret, government-employed team of assassins. After moving clear across the country, I thought I'd feel safe from the ones who want revenge for my so-called valor, but then I met him. Linc. The ghost in the shadows, who will never be seen for the hero he is.

A deer. A car crash. A damaged finger and dented pride. Not how I thought my evening would go. When a handsome man with a smooth American accent comes to my rescue, I decide that the day might not be all bad. The problem is that it's not just my finger that's damaged; it's my heart as well, keeping me tied to a past that's long gone. However, I have a plan: Therapy; Complete the bucket list my sisters wrote for me; Bed my American savior, who just happens to be none other than pro-golfer Hunter King; Eat cupcakes. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Ruth Murray thought she had seen the last of Knox Price when she walked away from him at their high school graduation. After always coming in second place, she was ready to be done with their rivalry and make something of herself. But then he created PATH, a company that retrofitted cars to self-drive, cutting automobile accidents in half. His name was in everyone's mouths, especially her parents, who still compared her to him even ten years later. His success was a sore reminder of her own stagnant career.

Emmett Lasker is impossible to work for. He might be model handsome and stupidly wealthy, but he also has it out for me. He’s given me more last-minute and weekend requests than anyone else, ruining any plans I make. I should quit. And I will. Just as soon as I hit my two-year anniversary and earn out my signing bonus. But after a particularly awful day at work, a breakup (via text!), and my computer crashing, I’ve had enough! So at 11:59 Friday night, I barge into Emmett’s office to tell him what I really think of him. Only, that’s not what happens. AT ALL.