I'm in a fake relationship with hockey's biggest star. His publicist needed someone to help fix his image. And I needed the money. But neither of us wanted to do it. After all, he dates models, not physiotherapists. And I just got divorced and will never, ever, trust a man again. Colton King isn't exactly likable. As a matter of fact, he's a total a-hole. How is anyone going to believe that we are a couple?

I had one thing on my mind and that was never going to change: The game. The only goal I had was beating the records set by my family. I didn’t have time for anything else. Until she walked in the room. The earth shifted, just like the stories said it would. I said it wouldn’t happen—not to me. I didn’t have the time, but now she was the only thing on my mind. I knew it was her. Now I had to convince her.

There are a million reasons why I shouldn’t date Fletcher Huxley. He’s a growly-faced, stubborn-streaked, international rugby legend trying to revive his flailing career in the US after being canned by his team overseas. While he might have the good kind of thunder thighs, intriguing tattoos, and a booty of steel, he also holds the top position on my very short nemesis list thanks to what happened the first time we met.

Demi Crawford was Magnolia Falls royalty. I was the boxer from the wrong side of the tracks. She was the epitome of everything good, while I was broody and rebellious. We couldn’t be more different. Her family was enemy number one which made her guilty by association. I despised her before I even knew her. It was easier that way. But now she’d moved in next door to me, and she was everywhere I turned. I couldn’t avoid her no matter how hard I tried. She was beautiful and honest and sweet. Everything I knew I shouldn’t want. Shouldn’t need.

Beckett Daniels is hockey’s hottest bad boy. He’s also my newest assignment. A chance encounter with his ex-handler gets me a job I need to pay off the dangerous debts I inherited. The only catch? The job involves making sure that Beck keeps out of the tabloids, the nightclubs, and the beds of women he shouldn’t be messing with. So now, I’m living in his house. Dealing with his venom, his pranks, his shirtless (and pantless) good mornings.