Paint your toes. Pick up the wrong coffee and bagel order. Drive from Brooklyn to Jersey in traffic so slow you want to tear your hair out. It’s amazing all the useless things I can accomplish while on hold for three hours with customer service. Three hours when I should be getting the Date-in-a-Box website ready to launch at the big business expo in a few days. Except my shiny new website is glitching, and my inner rage-monster is ready to scorch some earth...when he finally picks up. Not the robot voice I expected but a real live human named Kal.

That smoking hot one-night stand with a former rock star? Turns out, he's my son's new teacher. Oops. But I didn't know that the night I met Campbell. All I knew was he played my body the same way he played a guitar - like he owned it. My libido is still high-fiving me after being self-served for too many years, and we're both ready for another night or two of fun, especially since we don't just have chemistry in bed - we connect over everything. That is, until I learn he's the man who'll be coming to my house twice a week to teach my son the best music lessons money can buy.

I didn't mean to sneak a peek at my older brother's best friend. But when I catch him showering by mistake, I can't help but look. The guy is massive - and I do mean everywhere. We're all home to celebrate Dad's retirement as one big happy family, except my newlywed brother's already getting divorced, my mom keeps asking why I'm still single, and most frustrating of all, Barrett Wilson is staying with us at my parents' home for the weekend. I've known Barrett for years, so why am I suddenly noticing so many new things about him - like how big he is? It's maddening.

The world’s sexiest firefighter is about to get a second chance with the virgin next door.... He’s bossy, arrogant, and so ridiculously hot that he should come with a warning label and a pair of flame-retardant coveralls. He’s also the boy who broke my heart when we were in high school. I want to move in next door to Ryan O’Dell the way I want to be the virgin gamer geek suddenly in charge of running my sister’s sex-toy factory. Too bad both are written in my stars.

It’s been said that you can’t love two men at the same time. You can’t split your heart, soul, and body in half. But I’m here to tell you, you can. Dylan Cole is like ice, sharp and unpredictable, the thunder inside a tumultuous storm. Smith Reid is warmth, soft and gentle, perfect like a sunny day. Both are mine. But I can have only one. There are two sides to this tale. I'm here to tell you mine. If you think this story is about a cheater, you couldn’t be more wrong.

I was only trying to help a friend. I swear. I was legit asking for a friend who was finally ready to date again. So I did what any good friend would do. Posted it for her. It seemed like a good idea at the time - I’d weed through the candidates, and bring her my top picks. But then he responded. Is it wrong to date the guy I screened for my bestie? Not asking for a friend.

We met in a trapped elevator. Emmett was on his way to work, sophisticated and handsome in his tailored suit and tie. I was on my way to the sperm bank. Awkward, right? At 35, my life hadn't taken the path I thought it would and I was tired of waiting - I wanted a baby. And I was ready to take matters into my own hands to make it happen. After our ill-fated elevator encounter, Emmett insisted on taking me to dinner - he also insisted on something else - that I ditch my plan involving a turkey baster and let him do the job. He would be my baby daddy.

Every family has a black sheep. In the infamous Casso crime family, that black sheep is me - Cannon Freeman. Except I’m not a free man. I’ve never been free. Not since the day I was born. I owe my loyalty to my father, Dominic Casso, even if he won’t publicly acknowledge me as his blood. I’ve never had a reason to go against his wishes...until I met her. Drew Carson turned my world upside when she walked into my club looking for a job. Now, my honor and my life are on the line.

I’m not boyfriend material. If a trail of broken hearts and a piss-poor record of failed relationships have taught me anything, it’s this. My buddies are happy to give me shit about my latest breakup from here to next Sunday. Thanks, but I’d rather have a root canal. And a vasectomy. At the same time. Relief comes in an unlikely package - the gorgeous and feisty Maren. She just so happens to be my best friend’s sister, so that’s not awkward at all.

Charlotte Taylor has three automatic strikes in my book: 1) She hates me. She also claims that I'm a "domineering jerk with a huge, overbearing ego". (I do have something huge. It's not my ego, though.) 2) She takes our mandatory tutoring sessions way too seriously. 3) She's sexy as hell...and a virgin. At least those were her strikes before our study sessions started lasting longer than they were supposed to. Until one innocent kiss became a hundred dirty ones, and until she became the first woman I ever fell hard for.

Lexington Dane was my brother’s best friend growing up. We did everything together. He taught me how to throw a punch, how to change a tire...and he taught me how to kiss. I fell hard and fast, and gave him all my firsts. I promised I’d wait for him.... But I’m done waiting, because he went off to college and never came back. He took his fancy business degree and moved to New York City, where he promptly became a real estate mogul - turning every penthouse and apartment project he touched into gold. 

Let me list the reasons why dating the sexy, charming pro hockey star is a bad idea: He’s one of my closest friends. All our friends are friends. The wounds I’ve got from past relationships go deep. And so do his. We’re both devoutly single - it’s just safer for the heart that way. But there’s no reason not to bid on the gorgeous, clever athlete at the charity auction this weekend. If I win, it’ll be a "friendsdate". 

He's back. Not just back in town, but living in the flat right beneath mine. And he looks good enough to eat, which is just one more reason to stay away from him. But I can't resist. The sex is incredible (pretty sure we've shaken the house right off its foundation), but he can't fool me - not this time. A degree in marketing and five years in advertising have taught me that "true love" is a fairy tale used to sell lipstick, diamonds, and perfume. It doesn't exist. He thinks I'm wrong, and he wants to prove it. I think he's crazy, so I dare him to try.

I have three goals: graduate from an Ivy League university, get into medical school, and follow in my father's well-established footsteps. Everything was going exactly as planned until the local bad boy was delivered to my doorstep. Literally. From the moment we meet, my old life becomes unrecognizable, but I have no regrets. I'm utterly captivated by him. His smirk. His heart. His sharp wit. He pushes me to live, to be wild, to pursue the dream I've always hidden inside.

It’s officially booty o’clock, I’m alone again in my kitchen choking down a slice of terrible chocolate cake…and I’m pretty sure I just got drunk texted by the man I have a ginormous crush on. I’ve been daydreaming about Eliot Hoffman’s dimples for two months, and even though I’m sure this was a mistake on his end, it doesn’t mean it’s not an opportunity on mine. It’s the middle of the night, and I just wanna talk to him. So I text him back.