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 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.

Pine River was supposed to be a new start for me. And it was, especially attending school with my three overprotective cousins, who were the triplets at the top of the social hierarchy. Except they weren’t alone there, and the first day when I came to school, I saw him. Scout Raiden. Tall. Lean. Tattooed. Mesmerizing. He was a golden god with dark and piercing eyes—looking like he wanted to eat me up. The feeling was mutual, and that was a problem.

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.

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.