I shouldn't have agreed to this. What was I thinking? Appearing on a local news show? Just because something happened to me? But here I am. And then I walked past his room. He's a giant—no softness, all muscle. And a rich beard that made me want to rub myself all over it. He made me see stars, literally, because the second time I saw him, I tripped. Or I would've, but he caught me, and the cameras were rolling. Soon, that clip will be trending because he wasn't just another guest on the show. He's Brett Broudou, the Kings' newest football star.

Hockey with benefits. That was what Mara proposed, and I was down. She said no feelings, and she meant it. Just benefits. No strings attached. Nothing else. Not even friendship. College was her escape, including us. I didn't have time for a girlfriend. I had classes, the team, my family, and the game. It was all working too.... Until somewhere down the line, things got messy. Until somehow we were dealing with threats, secrets, rivals, and so much more. Until I began to want her in ways that weren't part of the deal. Our agreement didn't just get checked into the wall, it got obliterated.

I asked for his criteria for bed buddies - that's the PG version. He swore at me and said he didn’t do groupies. And just like that, our friendship was off to a great start. Reese Forster was the starting point guard for the Seattle Thunder. Gorgeous. Cocky. Loved by the nation. He’s also attending preseason basketball training camp where I used to work.

Nate Monson was gorgeous, obnoxiously wealthy, and a player. He was also the person who could destroy my world with a single decision. I walked into that bar looking for him. He saw me. I saw him. The chemistry sizzled between us, but no. I hated Nate Monson. I hated him with everything in me, even though my body did not. It didn't matter. Nothing I wanted mattered. He thought I wanted to get laid. What I wanted was for him to disappear. But first, I had to tell him that he had a daughter.

I have loved Channing Monroe all my life. In first grade, he asked for my Trapper Keeper. I hit him in the head with it. Third grade, we were best friends. We kissed in seventh grade. In eighth grade, he turned into a bad boy and the rest was a tumultuous storm. Growing up, the problem was never love for us. Bad times. Good times. There were times when I felt our love in every inch of my body, vibrating, making me feel like it could bring me back to life. The problem was us. The problem is that we're living in two different worlds now. Fallen Crest and its millionaires for me.

He walked into school on his first day and owned it. I guess that's what happens when you're a prick, rich, and you're best friends with the ruling school's king. Also didn't hurt that he's drop-dead gorgeous. That's all fine. I mean, I have nothing to do with them. I'm a loner, invisible, and that's how I wanted it to be. I was even proud of it, until I wasn't. His name is Blaise Devroe. My name is Aspen Monson. He only knew how to get, command, and demand attention. I knew how to do everything but that. And this is our story.

Bailey is as normal as could be, with a genius IQ and a photographic memory. But still, normal for her. Then, things happen - a guy breaks into her house in the middle of the night to take her hostage. She finds out her father is actually billionaire tech genius Peter Francis, the same guy she’s idolized all her life. She learns all this when she meets dark, mysterious, and electrifying Kashton Colello. He’s an associate of her father’s, and he gives Bailey two choices - go with him and meet her father, or survive on her own. It’s a no-brainer.

No longer an outsider, Bailey has a family and love that she never could’ve imagined. Used to living in the shadows, Kash will now do anything to protect his family and his woman. They will take on the world together….

I watched him in high school; I knew his reputation. I knew he was wealthy, privileged, and mean. He ran the show back then, a partier and a player. Then he came back from college, back to the town I never left. He’s different now. He comes into the bar, and I know his routine. I know which stool he’ll pick. I know his favorite drink. I know which sports team he’ll want on the television screen. And I watch as he gets hit on. Sometimes he leaves the bar with a woman. Sometimes he doesn’t. But I’m always there, tending to his drinks. He gives me a smile and a polite nod back.

Cutler Ryder was everything I wasn’t. He was the hockey star. I was an outcast. He was best friends with my stepbrother, that same stepbrother who hated me. His two parents loved him. My mom was a junkie. My dad barely knew me. Years passed. I got my life together. Cut went onto NHL stardom. Then there was a text.

Mason Kade is not known to be nice. He is ruthless, manipulative, and unforgiving. Most will say that he is a jerk, and he is to those that cross him or cross his loved ones. However, he does not want to be who he is. He does not enjoy hurting others, but there is no limit to the lengths he will go to protect himself and his brother. This is the story of how he came to be, and this is why so many love Mason Kade.

Five hockey players, a cabin in the woods...and little old me, Winnie Berlin. Sounds like the start of a fantasy, right? But it's not. It's my reality. It all started when I got lost in the middle of the Canadian Rockies. A wicked thunderstorm sent my car mud sliding into a ditch, and for a girl whose survival skills involve finding the nearest Starbucks, I was in deep trouble. Forced to abandon my car in search of help, I stumbled upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere.

He won’t tell me his last name, and maybe that should throw up a thousand red flags, but when I’m all alone in a new city and struggling to make ends meet, his texts are the lifeline I’ve been desperate for. I never would have answered that text if I’d known that Lincoln Daniels—superstar hockey player extraordinaire—was the one sending it. He’s trying to sweep me off my feet now. He says he’s obsessed. He wants me to wear his number…permanently. But is he still the wrong number, or can this hockey god prove he’s Mr. Right?

They rule my new town, my school, and with more money than God, there’s very little out of their reach. Four gorgeous, perfect, scary boys. There used to be five, but one of them died, leaving a fifth position that I now fill. I didn't ask for this. I didn't want to be part of this billionaire-boys-club. But no one cares about what I want. Sebastian Beckett is the worst of them. Their leader. He draws me in, and strips me of every defense I have. He calls me Butterfly, but it's not a pet name, it's a threat.

Ryot Bisley is my husband. Yes, the former third baseman for the Chicago Rebels and absolute heartthrob of the Windy City. That Ryot Bisley. The first time I ran into him, he was grumpy, a horrific host, and left me on his sofa with nothing but a nylon baseball flag to use as a blanket.