I have a type. I love the good guy. Responsible and stable. Safe. So when a beer-drinking, quick-witted, tattooed hockey player asks me to tutor him, I'm suddenly thrust into the world of bad boys and bad decisions. Jordan is a renowned player on campus. He doesn’t take anything seriously, except hockey and partying. But he gives me butterflies. I’m a wallflower tutoring Valley University’s hottest player.

I don’t date football players. I’m not interested in the ones who are a decade older than me. I want nothing to do with the ones who play on the same team as my brothers, and I certainly avoid the ones who spend more time in strip clubs than kids’ clubs. So why do I suddenly find myself faking a relationship with Ben Olson, the bad boy tight end who fits every descriptor on my naughty list?

It was a heat-of-the-moment agreement scribbled onto the back of a crinkled gas station receipt nine years ago. "If neither of us is married by age 30, we'll marry each other." Haha! So funny! Cash moved to a city 500 miles away, built his billion-dollar empire, and made a name for himself. Me? I stayed in our gossipy hometown, working a simple job and living a simple life. And we never discussed the marriage pact again. But I just turned the big three-oh, and Cash showed up at my door in the middle of a freaking rainstorm. 

I walked in on my fiancé sleeping with my maid of honor on the day of our wedding. I did what anyone would do: threw my ring in his face and found somewhere quiet to cry.

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.

I've been called football royalty my entire life. Born into a family that has experienced the highs and lows of the game. Constantly surrounded by football players and coaches. Now I'm following my father across the country for yet another team. I'm supposed to be spending this year finding myself, but can I do that with Brady by my side, or is he just another player? 

Leo F*cking Hernandez. North Boston University’s star running back, notorious bachelor, and number one on my people I would murder if I could get away with it list. And now? He’s my new roommate.

Working as Ruslan Oryolov’s personal assistant is the job from hell. After a long day spent tending to the billionaire’s every whim, I need some stress relief. So when I get home that night, that’s exactly what I do. Problem is, my thoughts are still stuck on the bosshole, who’s ruining my life. That’s fine—because of all Ruslan’s many sins, being gorgeous might be the most dangerous.

Football star. Single dad. And once, a long time ago, mine. I’ve spent the better part of a decade forgetting Ford Ellis. If he had just stayed away from Montana, I might have erased the memory of his striking blue eyes and rugged smile forever. Avoiding him was easy when the only place I saw his face was on ESPN—and a remote control could fix that problem.

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.

I have a simple plan. Finish Royal Elite School and get into my dream university. One glance from the school’s king blows my plan up in smoke. One glance and he suffocates my air. One glance and he issues his death sentence. His first words spiral my life into irreparable chaos. “I will destroy you.” Everything about Aiden King is black. Black mind. Black heart. Black soul. I should’ve remained quiet and endured the time I have left. I didn’t. I made the irrevocable mistake of provoking the king on his throne. 

Dancing on bar tops means the night is going great. Exiting the bar hauled over the shoulder of Heston University's infamous hockey captain? Not my idea of a good time. But my would-be knight would have to do. I needed an escape route from my brother… his biggest rival. Easton Blake is the perfect reminder of why I avoid hockey players. Cocky. Frustratingly sexy. Accustomed to every girl in his orbit falling for his charm. With his sultry smile that tells me he knows all the ways to make girls come undone with his touch, I'm almost the next score on his stats.

What's worse than having Rider Kingston, the star quarterback, give you the big brushoff because he doesn't want to get serious? You'd probably think living across the street from him where you get a firsthand view of his hookups, right? That's what I thought. Until someone drops off a baby with a note pinned to her blanket that says one of those jocks - either Rider or one of his roommates - is the father. The problem? Baby mama doesn't mention which of these numbskulls is the sperm donor. I wouldn't care about their paternity problems - except my brother lives there too. 

It’s been two years since I left for college; the last time I saw Isla. But when she shows up on my doorstep, the last thing I’m expecting is old feelings to resurface. Growing up, we were friends, until everything started to shift. Our friendship turned into stolen kisses and forbidden touches, but we agreed it could never be anything more. Not when her brother was my best friend.

My new neighbor is a firefighter - and a scorching-hot single dad - but I swear I didn’t set off that smoke alarm on purpose. (And I was beyond mortified when he rushed in and saw me naked.) Nothing happened, of course - because I, Winnie MacAllister, romance junkie and owner of a constantly broken heart, have sworn off men for one solid year. Even protective men with chiseled jaws, bulging biceps, and deep brown eyes that make my breath come faster.