Advice from my future self: Don’t ask your best guy friend to give you nookie lessons. Oops. Too late. I already begged my rock star BFF to give me lessons in seduction. And sweet, strong, always-has-my-back Shep already let me down easy, proving I have zero game, even with people who profess to care about me. Now, I’ll never live down my embarrassment or figure out why I’m a failure with the opposite sex. Or so I assume…until Shep changes his mind, agreeing to three weeks of red-hot study buddy time before he goes on tour and we part ways as friends.

If people have polar opposites, Luca Rossi is mine. His butt is in the baseball hall of fame. Mine's comfortably seated in the hall of lame. When he's not snagging fly balls out in center field, he's modeling in shampoo commercials. I once jammed my own finger while stirring cookie dough, and sometimes I forget shampoo is a thing. He's a total cynic when it comes to love. I make a living writing love stories. But after my latest broken engagement (no, I don't want to talk about how many times that's happened), it's clear he's exactly the man I need.

Three things Lynsey Jones knows about the hot doctor: he's grouchy, an arrogant jerk, and strangely obsessed with pie. Three things Dr. Josh Richardson knows: He doesn't talk about his past, he doesn't do relationships, and the crazy girl in the hospital cafeteria who ate a fistful of French silk pie...is annoyingly irresistible. After a chance meetup at a bar and a heated cab ride together, things come to a head. Three months later, the weird cafeteria stalker who crept out of Josh's house like a thief in the night winds up as his patient in the ER after her Tinder date from hell.

Pop quiz: You just banged a rock star you vowed to loathe until the end of time. What’s next? Hint: You don’t agree to be his fake girlfriend. And you certainly don’t fall in love.

When I joined Seattle's NHL expansion team, I thought it was the start of something great. But nothing ever goes the way you expect. Take my introduction to my new neighbor. She came rolling in on the hot mess express at midnight, making a racket while she tried to get into my team captain's apartment. Did I mention that he's married to a woman who definitely was not her?

That irresistible, tattooed hottie who’s been flirting hard with me since he rode into town? The one who kissed me senseless in the back of a waffle truck the other day? Yeah, turns out he’s my new housemate.... Things I don’t need while up for a promotion to police sergeant - a roomie who makes me think criminal thoughts. Can I arrest him for being too good-looking? But I soon learn Derek is strong, caring, generous, good with kids, and kind to puppies...and might be able to help me with my promotion, which gives me an idea....   

We come from two different worlds. I’m from the streets. She might as well live in an ivory tower. I made my living with my fists. I doubt she could even throw a punch. Our paths never should have crossed. We never should have met. That doesn’t change the facts. I would sell my soul to taste those red lips. Fight the devil himself to hear her laugh. Burn in hell to have a single night. Scarlett Priest shouldn’t even know men like me exist, but sometimes temptation is stronger than will. If this is how I go down, it’ll be worth every second of the fall.

Nick Murphy. Hockey god. My best friend’s big brother. My friend with mind-blowing benefits. The best thing to happen to my nether regions since my subscription to the toy of the month club. The man I’ve been secretly in love with for years. And a total ass. I am so done with him. Except there’s one small problem. Now that I’ve cut him off, his hockey game is in the toilet. He’s convinced I’m his good luck charm, and he wants me back. But only for his game.

Mr. Santillian, Despite the fact I'm currently living out of your guest room and sleeping with you most nights, I am writing to announce my resignation, effective two weeks from today. In other words, I'll locate someone who is both obscenely overqualified and willing to devote their days to the handful of tasks you are able to wrench from your perfectionist, micromanaging grip.

I didn't mean to star in a sex tape, okay? It was just one of those unexplainable things. Like Stonehenge, Police Academy 2, and morning glory clouds. It just happened. Now, my ball-busting father is sentencing me to six months of celibacy, sobriety, and morbid boredom under the roof of Boston's nerdiest girl alive, Sailor Brennan. The virginal archer is supposed to babysit my ass while I learn to take my place in Royal Pipelines, my family's oil company. Little does she know, that's not the only pipe I'll be laying....

She says she doesn’t date players. She swears up and down that she’ll never handle my stick. We’ll see about that, sweetheart. When I win the pleasure of Harper’s company at a charity auction, I get exactly one date - one shot to win over the gorgeous and feisty brunette. Game on. I play hard, and I love a challenge. But just when I think I’ve finally carved out my shot...a huge secret implodes around us, threatening everything we’ve built.

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". 

Secrets have now been revealed...lies uncovered...and stubborn walls broken down. Reed always says everyone’s got a price...it’s been his mantra for as long as he’s had money in the bank. And now, he’s desperately trying to figure out Georgina’s before it’s too late. Will the truth finally set Reed and Georgina free to find the happiness they both so desperately desire...or have they lost their chance at love forever?

Call it superstition, but when a guy bats as hot as Brooks Elliott, you don’t mess with what’s working. And what’s working is him keeping his pants zipped and doing all of his scoring on the field. So when I hear he’s planning to ditch his V-card now that he’s been traded to baseball’s lovable losers - a.k.a. my home team and my reason for living every March through October - I do what any rational, dedicated, obsessed fan would do. I make a plan to stop him. But the thing about stopping him is that it requires spending time with him. Lots. And lots. And lots of time.

He’s bossy, moody, and overprotective. He’s also a pro athlete who needs to focus on winning games and staying out of the headlines. I’m fiercely independent and need a man like I need a second period each month. So when our worlds collide, I never expected him to be the one to jump in and save me. Especially not when my roommate disappears, leaving me with her baby. I’m clueless about babies - and it shows. Good thing Alexei isn’t.