It all starts with a bucket list and a romance novel…. I’ve known Ryder McAdams my entire life. We’re neighbors and our families are besties. He’s also friends and teammates with my younger brother, Maverick. But Ryder and me? We’ve never been close. In fact, I’ve always gotten the distinct impression he doesn’t like me very much. He goes out of his way to ignore me. Know what makes it worse?

Theo Brooks is hard not to notice. With his coy smirk, rock-hard abs, and skilled agility on the ice, he's the cockiest of all the jocks and, unfortunately for me, my new roommate. When Admissions mixes up my first and last name, and I end up living in the male dorms, I feel my perfectly tied schedule loosening with every string Theo pulls. And he likes to pull every single one. It isn't until I find out that my long-time boyfriend is sampling other girls that things get interesting. Theo proposes a solution to my problem.

From a young age, the only thing in life I've ever taken seriously is hockey. I'm not the guy anyone—besides family and teammates—can count on. This is all true. At least, until a certain curly-haired, blue-eyed goddess comes to me looking for an easy hookup. And hook her up I do. But what's supposed to be a one-night stand doesn't stop at one night. What's meant to be easy sure as hell gets complicated fast. It becomes clear that Addison LaConte is just as much my savior as she is my demise.

After my ex crushed my dreams in the music industry, I’m done with getting my heart broken. Working as an assistant for an NHL player was supposed to be a breeze, but nothing about Jamie Streicher is easy. He’s an intimidatingly hot, grouchy jerk who can't stand me. The guy has a massive ego. Keeping things professional will be no problem, even when he demands I move in with him.

Hi, my name is Bree Camden, and I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend and star quarterback Nathan Donelson (so is half of America, judging by the tabloids and how much the guy dates). The first step is admitting it, right? Except, I can never admit it to him because he clearly doesn’t see me that way, and the last thing I want is for things to get weird between us. Nothing but good old-fashioned no-touching-the-sexiest-man-alive platonic friendship for us! Everything is exactly how I like it! Yes. Good. (I’m not crying; I’m just peeling an onion.)

Trust me when I say that Rowan Michaels fever is alive and well at Western University. His fanbase is legendary. The guy is a major player. Both on and off the field. Girls fall all over themselves to be with him. They fill the stands at football practice, show up at parties he’s rumored to be at, and basically stalk him around campus. It’s a little nauseating. Don’t these girls have any self-respect when it comes to a hot guy? Fine...I’ll admit it, he’s good looking. If you’re into that kind of thing. Which I’m not.

Tristan Stiles is the bane of my existence. He never wears a shirt. We can’t seem to stop fighting. He’s an arrogant playboy with a filthy reputation. Sure, I had a crush on him when I was fourteen but that was a long time ago. I know better than to trust him. I just need to survive long enough to find a new job and get a new place. And not accidentally let Tristan show me exactly how well-deserved his reputation is.

I met my dream girl. That’s right. She’s stunning and the worst bartender I’ve ever seen. I should have gone home and gone to sleep—dream girl or not. I had an early morning and the season was starting soon. But when she threatened me with boy band karaoke, I couldn't help myself. I went. The stars aligned. I have never felt more alive or wanted anyone more than I want her.

Mia Stanbury is the quintessential girl next door: smart, beautiful, and determined. She’s got it all going on. Is it any wonder that she’s been on my radar for as long as I can remember? We’re talking middle school, folks. I’ll admit that I’ve made a few boneheaded mistakes as far as she’s concerned, but what can I say? I’m a dude. Sometimes I think with the wrong head. We’ll just chalk it up to one of the hazards of having a Y chromosome and leave it at that.

There was a time when Skye Sinclair was my entire world, then she dumped my ass and took off. Now she’s back, waltzing into town three years later like nothing happened. She’s hoping we can coexist on campus until graduation. That’s not going to happen. One run-in is all it takes to realize I haven’t moved on. I still want her.

Can a guy and girl ever be just friends? I used to think so, but now I’m not so sure. Emerson and I met freshman year of high school and we’ve been tight ever since. I’ve been pretty good about keeping her locked in the girls-I-don’t-think-about-having-sex-with part of my brain. Which is no easy feat, because let’s face it, unless we’re related, you’re potential spank bank material. Luckily for me, Southern University has an overabundance of Red Devils hockey groupies, which means there are always plenty of puck bunnies for me to choose from.

My dad has been the coach of the Charleston Coyotes for as long as I can remember. All the time I've spent in ice rinks has taught me two things: 1. I will NEVER date a hockey player. As a single mom, it's not like I have time for romance anyway. 2. Nothing smells worse than hockey players after a game. And I work as a dog groomer, so I have experience with smelly animals. It's amazing how quickly my rules are forgotten when Darius walks into my pet salon.

Before my junior year at Lincoln University, I promised myself three things. Just three. One: Actually dig into the whole sorority girl bit. Two: Stay away from athletes. Three: Seriously, stay away from athletes. When Professor Taylor posted our chem midterm partners, and I got stuck with the captain of Lincoln's Ice Hockey team, I was sure I'd be able to abide by rules two and three. After all, I was immune to Leo's whole "hottest guy on campus" thing. I grew up with him—my brother's best friend... Who I've been obsessed with since I was eight. F me.

Roan King. The uncrowned king of Barnett University. He's like a freaking celebrity around here. It's totally ridiculous. People, by which I mean grown women, actually stalk him on the internet. And around campus. Apparently, he's God's gift to both football and the ladies (I'm using that term loosely). All he has to do is smile, and girls fall right onto their backs before spreading their legs wide. I've heard that he's already plowed his way through half the female population at Barnett.

Carter is my cousin’s best friend, and thanks to the fugue state I must have been in when I agreed to this living arrangement, he’s my roommate for senior year. Everything would be fine if he would just stop messing with me. But he’s incapable of restraining himself. So when he takes his antics too far, who can blame me for retaliating in kind?