I remember the very first time I laid eyes on Cole Lincoln. It still feels like yesterday when he stumbled into my life with his messy brown hair and dark eyes. Even though I was only 10 years old at the time, I knew right then and there that he was going to change everything. From that point on, Cole and I were always together, inseparable, and I naively believed we'd be best friends forever. But forever didn't last nearly as long as I expected. We grew up and grew apart, life driving the distance between us.

They say everything happens for a reason - that there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. For the longest time, I didn’t think that was true. I had stumbled around in the dark for so many years that I didn’t think I would ever find my way out. But when I finally did, it came in the most unexpected way. Miles Hollins had been my brother’s best friend for as long as I could remember. We didn’t like each other much growing up. Or rather, we couldn’t stand each other. 

Alec Murray. He was the one. From the first moment I saw him, I knew. I had never been more certain of anything in my 16 years on this Earth. But Alec didn’t notice me. At least not in the way that I wanted him to. He noticed my best friend instead. I stood by and watched their relationship blossom. An outsider looking in, wishing things were different. Torn between my loyalty to my best friend and the boy who had unknowingly stolen my heart. 

Arrogant. Egotistical. Playboy. Three words that perfectly describe Atlas Keaton. My twin brother’s best friend. The absolute bane of my existence. And my new college roommate. It wasn’t by choice of course. The last thing I wanted was to be forced to endure a full semester living under the same roof as him and my brother. But when a housing mix-up leaves me 3,000 miles away from home with nowhere else to turn, I don’t really have another option. It’s only four months, how hard could it be, right? Wrong...

Sham. Fraud. Hoax. All words that describe my relationship with Callum Hanson. It didn’t start out that way. We used to be friends. That is until high school, when Callum decided he was too cool to be seen with his less than popular next-door neighbor. 

It only takes one night-one moment, one small snippet of time-to change everything. At sixteen-years-old, Sebastian Baxter taught me that. He taught me a lot of things. He never had to work for my heart. In some unexplainable way I think it had always belonged to him anyway. Some might think our love story is over, but deep down I know it's only just beginning. Because it's not about where the night begins, it's about where it ends.

I remember the first time I saw Sutton Barnett in perfect detail–like a fragment of time suspended in front of my eyes. I remember his shirt–faded blue against tanned skin that had seen countless hours of the summer sun. Wet droplets peppered his shoulders from where his still wet hair had dripped onto the fabric. He rounded the bottom of the stairs, our eyes meeting for only a fraction of a second before he looked away, but it was long enough for me to know right then and there that nothing would ever be the same again.

You never get over your first love. It’s something I’ve heard countless times. Like someone has to point out that your pain will never go away. That your shattered heart will never mend. Because that’s exactly what my heart did the day I watched Asher Evans board that train - it shattered, splintering into a million tiny fragments that I didn’t think I’d ever be able to piece back together. He was the boy I had loved since I understood what loving someone mean.

Life is hard. There’s no secret in that statement. Life. Is. Hard. Simple enough. But my life hasn’t just been hard… I’ve gotten used to it over the years - come to expect it really. So when fate hands me yet another big f--k you, I’m not even a little bit surprised. Why should I be? I mean, after everything I’ve been through, why not throw my best friend’s ex-boyfriend into the mix and see how royally I can screw this up too. It doesn’t matter that he loved her first. It doesn’t matter that he’s wrong for me in every way possible. 

I didn’t believe my fractured heart and broken soul could endure any more pain. Until Jared rocks up to the art gallery where I work, with his fiancée in tow, and I’m drowning again. Seeing him brings everything to the surface, so I flee. Placing distance between us again, I’m determined to put him behind me once and for all. Then he reappears at my door, begging me for another chance. I know I should turn him away. Try telling that to my heart.

It’s funny how differently we view life when we’re young. Everything feels possible- limitless. If only things could stay that way forever. Then maybe life wouldn’t be so complicated. Maybe Jace would still be the same ten-year-old boy I fell in love with. Maybe I’d still be that same girl too. The girl who believed that there wasn’t anything we couldn’t overcome. But I’m not that girl anymore. Time has beaten me down, broken me, taken everything from me. And it’s taken even more from Jace. I naively believed that I could save him...From his dad. From his anger.

I’m falling for the father of the baby I’m carrying. The problem is: it’s not my baby. And the broody widower is not looking for a long-term partner. As a surrogate, the deal was that I’d only be in England long enough to give birth. At first, the man seemed as pretentious as his name: Sigmund Benedictus. He and I butted heads. Sig challenged my intentions, accused me of just wanting to do this for the money. Gradually, he learned to trust me.

Ryland Thorpe taught me the hard way that good doesn’t always win and sometimes the people we trust the most are the ones that can hurt us the deepest. At 15, my world began and ended with him. He was my older brother’s best friend. He was my protector. He was the boy I had loved since I was old enough to understand what loving someone meant. And he was a liar.... It’s been five years since I’ve seen him. Five long years and the memory of him still haunts me like it was yesterday.

Our parents’ friendship meant we had to co-exist. But it didn’t mean we had to like it. He purposely did things to get under my skin. Like spreading rumors about me in junior high so no boys wanted to go out with me. Or sleeping with several of my high school friends, just to prove he could.

At first, I thought I’d hate spending the summer with Archie Remington—the conceited son of my parents’ friends. What I knew about Archie: He was gorgeous, pre-law, and had always treated me like I didn’t exist when we were younger. When our families bought a house together on an island in Maine, he and I were forced to share a bathroom.