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.

We met at my older brother’s house and instantly I knew that he was trouble. He kissed me, right there in the bathroom without a care in the world. And from that moment on, I was his. We were young, brave and naïve when we met. Sneaking around and falling in love. Giuliano Ferrara was perfection. A beautiful, crazy mistake. With his big brown eyes and his boyish charm.

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.

Pine River was supposed to be a new start for me. And it was, especially attending school with my three overprotective cousins, who were the triplets at the top of the social hierarchy. Except they weren’t alone there, and the first day when I came to school, I saw him. Scout Raiden. Tall. Lean. Tattooed. Mesmerizing. He was a golden god with dark and piercing eyes—looking like he wanted to eat me up. The feeling was mutual, and that was a problem.

When Jess Montell meets Trace West at a hockey game, she doesn’t know his name or occupation. What she does know is there’s an instant attraction that’s impossible to ignore—or forget. And forgetting is exactly what she wants to do when she learns he’s not just a successful Wall Street suit but the heir to one of New York’s biggest Mafia families. The last thing Trace needs is a romantic anything with law enforcement, and parole officer Jess has trouble written all over her. Too bad he likes trouble.

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.

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. 

I crawled into Ryan Jensen’s bed that first night by accident. I barely knew him. I thought it was his sister’s bed - her room. It took seconds to realize my error, and I should've left... I didn’t. I didn’t jump out. I didn’t get embarrassed. I relaxed. And that night, in that moment, it was the only thing I craved. I asked to stay. He let me, and I slept. The truth? I never wanted to leave his bed. If I could've stayed forever, I would have. He became my sanctuary. Because - four hours earlier - my twin sister killed herself. 

One punch took him from Hollywood’s Golden Boy to Bad Boy Brody. The media didn’t care he was grieving his brother’s death. They descended on him, but to change his reputation, his manager got him a deal. Act in an indie film, one that already had Oscar buzz, and he’d get the movie roles he needed to secure his future. He took the deal. Yet he wasn’t prepared for the real-life people behind the script. He wasn’t prepared for the murder the movie was based on. And he really wasn’t prepared for her, the biggest secret of all. She was wild. She was beautiful. She defied gravity.

I shouldn't have remembered him. He was just a guy who walked through a restaurant. I didn't know his name. We never made eye contact. There was no connection between us at all. But I could feel him. The tingle down my spine. The command in his presence. The snap of tension in the air around him. That was the first time I saw him, and I was captivated.

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.

Being empathic is the least of Davy's problems. She wants to go to college and live a normal life, until someone gives her something she doesn't want. Now she has to deal with the supernatural and a prophecy that no one knows about.

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.   

Carter Beckett is the NHL’s resident bad boy, top player both on the ice and in the bedroom, and quite possibly the sexiest man to ever grace my field of vision. But worst of all? He knows it. He’s arrogant, self-centered, and the man doesn’t seem to know what a filter is, let alone how to use one. He’s had everything served to him on a silver platter, including endless strings of women, and apparently, I’m up next. I have the solution to all my sexual frustrations in a drawer at home, and it’s far less complicated than Carter Beckett.

There were always whispers about my roommate at Hillcrest Academy. The wealthiest of the wealthy sent their kids to our boarding school, and Brooke Bennett had been at the top, though I never quite knew why. She was fun and outgoing, but she kept quiet about her family. The only things she showed me were photographs of her brothers. I became fascinated with her second-oldest brother. Kai Bennett. Smoldering. Hypnotic. Alluring. Kai had eyes that pulled me in and a face that haunted my dreams.