Good looks and wads of cash usually get me whatever I desire, unless I desire a box of my favorite cereal at the grocery store right before it closes. As if tonight's loss wasn't bad enough, I'm now watching said box of cereal, my literal good luck charm, disappear in some woman's cart. The brazen woman denies my cash offer along with my proposal for a more intimate payment. How much loss can a man take in one day? At this point, who cares how rude I am to her? She's public enemy number one, and chances of seeing her again are slim to none.

Knox Holland is in a jam. After an incredible first year on the pro motocross circuit, he should be on top of the world. Instead, his bad reputation has landed him without a team. He's untouchable and desperate to turn it around. Which is how he ends up at my gym asking me to train him. As a college gymnast with two Olympic medals to my name, I know a thing or two about the pressure to succeed. Last season I choked and then injured myself before I could show the world that I'm not a twenty-year-old has-been.

I’ve always been a wild card–the first to start a fight on the ice, and the life of the party off it–but appearances can be deceiving. Being traded to the Boston Rebels could not have come at a better time. With serious family obligations to fulfill and a contract renewal with a new hockey team on the line, I have no time for anything else. I return to Boston knowing I need to buckle down and focus on what really matters.

I made a deal with my brother a long time ago to never date his teammates. Technically, Rowan Landry, the hot as hell center for the Chicago Falcons, is no longer my brother’s teammate. Or his best friend. Their college days are long behind them, and they barely talk now. Also, I’m not dating him—we’re just sleeping together. There’s a difference.

Jon Paul Dumont is everything I was warned about in this league—talented, entitled, and fully aware of both. The NHL's favorite bad boy has left a trail of broken hearts from Montreal to San Diego, and a year ago, I was stupid enough to become one of them. Now he's signed with my father's team, the Seattle Hawkeyes, attempting a comeback after a career-threatening injury and a DUI charge that got him dropped from the Blue Devils.

On the ice I’m formidable, relentless and I lead by example. Now my coach wants me to step up as Captain – and lead the team off the ice too. But this is my worst nightmare; I’d rather play hockey naked than do any kind of public speaking! To make matters worse, my best friend’s sister has shown up out of the blue to live with us temporarily. We have a history… it’s awkward, she’s starting to invade my fantasies and I can’t seem to escape her. But maybe she could be the answer to my problems…

It’s not easy being a woman working in a male dominated field. Add in the fact that my uncle owns the baseball team I work for, and proving I belong here is a constant battle. Dating a player was never an option. Not if I wanted to keep a shred of dignity and respect. Then Ronan Sinclair sits down next to me in first class with his alluring blue eyes and hard-to-resist dimples. To say nothing of his kindness and charm, or his determination to convince me that a steamy vacation fling is what we both need.

A little white lie never hurt anyone . . . or so I thought. One fake date and we’d go our separate ways, at least that’s how hockey’s hottest golden boy—Nixon Sinclair—convinced me this would work. But it turns out, Nix had other plans. Now I’m sneaking around with my brother’s teammate, refusing to admit he’s everything I want but never knew I needed.

Easton Hayes has been my knight in shining hockey skates since he saved my life. This devastatingly handsome grump may be everyone's favorite goalie, but to me, he's my strength when demons haunt my dreams. And okay—so maybe he's also the only man I've ever loved. But he doesn't need to know that. We're friends. It works for us.

If I had known how irrevocably my life was about to change, I would have walked the other way after talking to my coach. I should have taken any other route out of the Toronto Terror head office. But I didn’t and now–everything is different. At first I didn’t recognize the woman doing a victory dance down the hall when she thought no one was watching. Until she turned around. And that beautiful smile was aimed at me.

I’m a curvy sports geek. Liam’s a hockey god. He’s way out of my league… My brother’s best friend is acting really weird. Flowers keep showing up. He sends me Cameos and concert tickets. Then, there’s the job offer… Well, first, there was the fact that he tracked me down to NYC. It’s really complicated, okay? But so are my feelings for him. I’ve been ignoring them for so long that they became a wall I’m comfortable hiding behind.

My brother's best friend will do anything to win. Even if it means pretending to date me–his sworn enemy. But claiming my V-card wasn't part of the plan. He's Goalie-zilla of the Houston Heatwave and the man I can't stand. Number 33. Ryker-freakin-Balinger. The only things we have in common are the temporary roof we share and the arena where we both work. Dealing with this muscular, tatted-up grump is the last thing I need. But he needs good press. And I want revenge on the team's newest arrival. So this relationship is all for show.

Rule number one for becoming an NHL team’s social media manager: Don’t hook up with the star center in an elevator a week before starting your new job.

She's the definition of don’t even think about it. Look up off-limits in the dictionary, and not only is her name there—it’s underlined, bolded, and signed by her dad. And yet, here I am. Kissing my coach’s daughter against a wall where anyone could see us. Easily the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. Starting a fight on the ice? Sure. Taking a slapshot to the ribs and playing through it? Not my brightest moment. But this? It’s the kind of mistake that could end me. And the craziest part? I’d do it again. Because if Sophie Novak is a mistake… She’s the only one I ever want to make.

As your paralegal (and ex), I have to be honest: You’re a horrible lawyer. Honestly, the worst I’ve ever seen. You never communicate, you pile on overtime, and you’re constantly in a bad mood. Now, about those panties on your desk. No, that wasn’t a desperate cry for your attention. It was the result of a lost bet with my roommate. But if you were even half the lawyer you claim to be, you’d have figured that out without all the ego-tripping.