When I put up a "Roommate Wanted" poster, he was the last person on earth I thought would respond. He was also the last person on earth I'd agree to let live with me...on purpose. But, here we are - roommates. I'm certain we can coexist without it being awkward, and I'm determined to make it work. There will be no sexual tension building with each accidental touch, no flutters when he wears that stupid backward baseball cap, and definitely no flirting when we text back and forth. Caleb Mills can't be the guy for me. He's my best friend's ex-boyfriend.

Dean Evans is the worst. Not only does the devil in disguise steal my pie on a regular basis, he also lives in the apartment right. Next. Door. I see him all the time. At the mailboxes. In the elevator. Every single morning. It's exhausting because he's exhausting. Now, after setting his apartment on fire, he's my roommate, and he's the worst at that, too. I don't know what possessed me to let him stay with me. Pity, perhaps? I do know that I won't be falling for his charm. 

My contract is up with the Carolina Comets this year, and I need to get it together if I want to stay with the team. I need relaxation, not a relationship. But when I’m scrolling on a dating app and stumble across the pretty girl who almost ran me over, I know I can’t let her walk away this time. Harper is funny, smart, and doesn’t care about hockey. I’m not supposed to be focusing on anything other than my career, yet I can’t get Harper off my mind. I know I shouldn’t fall for her…but I think I already have.

I hate Drew Woods, and she hates me. Too bad I'm not the cold jerk most make me out to be. When she needs help, I have no problem moving the single mom and her baby into my home despite how she makes me feel. Alive. She's too mouthy, too nosy, and her curves are way too distracting for my own sanity. Giving in to Drew would be a short-lived fix, and I knead something permanent to heal my pain. I'd be insane to think we could be anything more than temporary...right?

I knocked up my best friend's sister. Let's start with how she decided to inform me and Pacey the news...together. Imagine that nightmare. I was going into what I thought was a hockey marketing meeting, and then bam! I'm going to be a dad and my best friend/teammate is attempting to imprint my face with his fist. Threats were tossed around, friendships were revoked, and then I was marched up to her apartment, suitcases in hand, and forced to live with her so I could take care of her every need. Now I'm finding it harder and harder not to fall for my best friend's little sister.

Ridiculously charming, a total player and a hockey super star . . . Reed Davidson has been the boy next door who's had my heart for as long as I can remember. He was the ultimate bad boy, and I was just his sister's shy best friend. But when Reed's world is suddenly flipped upside down and he gets custody of his nephew, I'm the only one who can help.

The last person on earth I want to be stranded with is Gianni Lupo. But, thanks to the blizzard of the century, I’m trapped in a roadside motel room with that cocky bastard for two straight days, and with one small bed. Some women might thank Mother Nature for delivering a polar vortex that maroons them with six feet of solid muscle, those deep blue eyes, that sexy grin - but not me. I’ve known Gianni Lupo all my life, and he’s never brought me anything but bad luck, and trouble. I should have known what the disastrous end result would be.

I’m a single female who’s tired of relationships ruining my life. However, there are times when a date would be helpful. If you’re a single man, preferably mid-20s to late-30s, and are in a similar situation, we might be a match. Candidate must be handsome, charming, and willing to pretend to have feelings for me (on a sliding scale, as the event requires). Ability to discuss a wide variety of topics is a plus. Must have your own transportation and a (legal) job. In exchange for your time, I will give you mine. If interested, please email me. Time is of the essence. 

Jud Lawson found me stranded in the rain. Broken down on the side of the road in a deserted neighborhood with my piece-of-crap car. I wasn’t looking for a hero, and definitely not one who looks like him. An obscenely hot mountain of a man who screams danger. But I have little choice other than climbing onto the back of his bike.

Mistaken identity, drunk texts, and hysterical mishaps...just another day in my life. Girls all over the world spill the tea to me about their most intimate questions. They thank me for talking about sex with them. For fixing their love lives. I wonder if I’d still be a relationship influencer if they knew what a train wreck my own love life is? If I was writing anyone else advice, it would say things like: Never drunk-text your ex-boyfriend. No, seriously, that’s a terrible idea.

From USA Today and Wall Street Journal best-selling author Meagan Brandy comes an all-new stand-alone romance set in college about a hotshot pitcher and the girl he never saw coming.

I was hanging with the girls, celebrating my divorce, when I saw him - my crush, sitting in the corner of the bar, all alone. Being single and looking for a wild night, I asked him if he wanted to join me. To my delight, he said yes. On paper, it seemed like I had hit the jackpot. And if I wasn't fresh from a toxic marriage, I would have absolutely noticed the finer things about him. But, I wanted nothing to do with being married, so when I arrived back home from my eventful weekend in Vegas, the last thing I expected to see was a new doting husband already moved in. 

Lucky. The one adjective used to describe my entire hockey career. I prefer to call it hard work - at least I did until my game went to complete crap. I haven’t scored in eight games, and the team owner is talking about trading me. I’ve never believed in superstitions. Never needed one. I suppose I was “lucky” in that way. But now the best way to refer to me is desperate. I’d wear the same socks for an entire year just to be the high-scoring center I used to be. Imagine my surprise when after spending New Year’s Eve with a woman, I score a hat trick in the next game.

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.

The first time I met pro football’s hottest quarterback, we ended up horizontal just before the most embarrassing moment of my life. The second time, I unleashed all my pent-up anger on him. The third time was when the owner of the Vegas Aces introduced him as the newly traded player I’d be coaching for the next year. No…I’m not a football coach. I’ve been hired as his full-time behavior coach. Now I have to live with my one-night stand, his fiancée, and their newborn while I attempt to help him make better decisions.