I hate sports, and he is football royalty. I like quiet and predictable, but he's sex and swagger personified. I didn't particularly care for Saint Stevenson the first moment I laid eyes on him, but his warped brain seemed to process our initial meeting as foreplay. I have a meticulous five-year plan in place for myself and my career, but now this huge, cocky, self-absorbed quarterback who I've been assigned to at work is seriously f--king it up.

Being hired as the PR representative for the hockey team I’ve always been a fan of, should be a dream come true, especially because my old crush plays for them. My suggestion to save Briggs's career is solid… have him fake date someone wholesome who can change his image. That’s when my big mouth gets in the way and I admit to being the-girl-next-door. Now… my boss is offering me the promotion of a lifetime, but it comes with strings… Fake date Briggs Conley!

I made a mistake and had a taste of something sweet, forbidden, and highly addictive—Elizabeth. It's no secret that I'm greedy, and I want more. Now I just have to convince her that she does too.

After Elizabeth Hill is brutally attacked in her apartment by an intruder and then unceremoniously dumped by her ex-boyfriend, she moves in with family that she barely knows for protection. All she remembers about Roman is that he was the moody, mean boy who played a cruel trick on her when she was just six years old; but soon learns that he is now a complex and multi-layered man who has the ability to protect her, ignite her, and challenge her like no one ever has before.

The dreamiest player on the Moo U hockey team hangs a flyer on the bulletin board, and I am spellbound: Rent a boyfriend for the holiday. For $25, I will be your Thanksgiving date. I will talk hockey with your dad. I will bring your mother flowers. I will be polite, and wear a nicely ironed shirt.... Now everyone knows it’s a bad idea to introduce your long-time crush to your messed-up family. But I really do need a date for Thanksgiving, even if I’m not willing to say why. 

Harlow Hayes loves water. In its liquid form. The chlorinated kind she swims in. The perennial droplets soaking her adopted hometown. The waves she ventures out on to observe the ocean. Water, in its frozen state, holds no appeal to her. That's not the only—or most divisive—difference between her and Conor Hart. The arrogant, arresting captain of Holt University's hockey team spends every second not picking fights or partying atop a sheet of it. Plenty of girls fall for the charming lines and that cocky smirk. Harlow knows better. Knows more.

Taron Rhodes was my brother’s best friend. He was sexy as sin. But he was more than that.... He was ponytail-pulling, ice-down-your-shirt teasing, throw-you-in-the-lake screaming.... Strong, tanned arms and blue-green eyes over a heart-stopping, naughty grin.... Did I mention his tight end? I gave him my first real kiss, my heart, my everything. I said I’d wait for him.... I’m still waiting, because Taron Rhodes is still the man of my dreams. And I have a secret that has his blue-green eyes.

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.

Miles Cavanaugh is moving into “The Den”—a notorious four-flat apartment complex in Chicago with two of his new teammates from the Chicago Grizzlies. The Den is known for the number of women who come and go, but as the three bachelors start their new season, they get their first inkling that things are starting to change.

Tessa Graham has loved Malus for years. They were once a wildly popular band, topping the charts and leaving broken hearts in their wake. But for the past five years, they've been playing the same old hits, incapable of creating anything new. As an assistant working for the band's record label, Tessa is given the opportunity of a lifetime. Her boss informs her that she must help the band write and record a new album - and she only has seven months to do it. If she succeeds, she's in line for a huge promotion. If she fails, she's fired. And so is the band.

Have you ever fake dated your bodyguard? I don't recommend it. Especially if he's anything like Erik Wilder: Former football player, world class know-it-all and unapologetic grump. To be clear, I didn't want a bodyguard (hence the fake dating idea). Most days, I can’t figure out why he wants the job either. We drive each other insane, probably because we’re as opposite as two people can be. He’s suspicious, never talks about his past and has the comfort skills of a cactus. I’m a happily-ever-after kind of girl who knows exactly what she wants out of life.

Ski-racer Dane "Danger" Hollister does not do relationships, though he keeps his reason a secret. The real-life curse he's inherited from his mother will eventually cost him everything: his place on the Olympic ski team, his endorsement income, and his ability to fly downhill at top speed. Reluctant country girl Willow Reade meets Dane by accident. Literally. Her skidding truck forces him off the road during a blizzard. Stranded together in his Jeep as night falls, the two loneliest people in Vermont find themselves sharing more than they'd planned. And not just conversation.

I was never a girl to drool over the hockey players at our academy—they’re all egotistical jerks. But since my father is the coach of Scotia Storms, everywhere I turn, there’s a player—in more ways than one.

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.

I have a confession. I hate bachelorette parties. A night of awkward dancing, penis-shaped straws and being told “you're next, Kaitlyn!” Even worse: It's hosted at a super swanky Miami club where I stick out like a sore thumb. Couldn’t get any worse, right?